SITTING HERE ON MY TERRACE in the ardent sunshine, I was going to write about the alchemical effect of music on the soul as strains of a Handel Concerto Grosso drifted through the living-room entrance. But as I began to type, I noticed a heart-stopping, long-awaited sight just a metre from where I was sitting: My little citrus Lime Tree had suddenly acquired a leaf-shoot bump, as I realised on closer inspection; followed later by more similar bumps all over it, along with a number of flower-buds bursting out with Read the rest of this entry »
There is a curtain right in front
of every soul who scours this earth;
though most are blind and see no veil
or element obscured by drapes.
And written on this curtain are
some words right off the Richter Scale
in ink invisible except to those
whose hearts the whole Truth rapes! Read the rest of this entry »
IF CHRISTMAS COMES EARLIER EACH YEAR, then so can my “Tasteless Kitschmas” Song (see the 3 images below). Do you think it will get in the “Hit Parade”? 🤣 The melody is in a “Skiffle” style, a bit like “My Old Man’s a Dustman”. 🙂 You’ll never hear me sing it; but I mean every word of it. Christmas… an obscenity on the face of humanity — like a hairy wart on a beauty-queen’s nose. What does it have to do with Christ? Nothing at all. Enjoy the song though… Click on “Read the rest of this Entry” to read it all: Read the rest of this entry »
There has never been a true “cessation of hostilities”.
For those three NewSpeak words can only ever be
a gassy smokescreen made to mask the secret liability
of those for whom all peace is all ways merely just
the disingenuous space that comes between 2 wars.
In every dirty hushful place where vulture salesmen
gather to be pedlars of the means of our destruction, Read the rest of this entry »
TO ANY BUDDING BUREAUCRAT OR APPARATCHIK OF THE STATE who may imagine this is their concern (although it’s none of anybody’s business [and yet, in a way, it’s everybody’s too]): I AM A CITIZEN OF NOWHERE — inhabitant of déjà vu. For I am not part of this wasteland world. Where I come from, a thesaurus (that is, a treasure-chest) of gemstone words has swirled inside all heads from long before they were a twinkle in an angel’s eye. Where I come from, it is irrational to fear to die — unnatural to never cry with tears of blesséd joy. Where I come from, bureaucracy would never calcify the Read the rest of this entry »
From what I have observed of shame, it has a taste.
Metallic, subtle, sulphurously hiding underneath
one’s gritted teeth, it cloaks itself in sugar-coated
candyflossedish vain houdiniesque derangerous
escapological decay. For people run from shame as if
it was a guillotine or other similarly end-it-all device.
Read the rest of this entry »