poeticfire.co.uk
Shallow | poeticfire.co.uk
http://www.poeticfire.co.uk/2014/03/shallow
Laquo; Sacred Opening. The Joy of the Present Tense. March 26, 2014. When the arc consumes. The wine in the cup. The bread on the platter. Then the Royal Arch. Opens up it’s sealed doors. And the temple curtain. And through that holy gap. Through this dense excruded gravitation. This outlaw rogue dimension. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *. Towards a Deeper Sense of Reality. Time and the Timeless. The Secular Man Speaks.
poeticfire.co.uk
The Secular Man Speaks | poeticfire.co.uk
http://www.poeticfire.co.uk/2014/03/the-secular-man-speaks
Laquo; The Score. Time and the Timeless. The Secular Man Speaks. March 26, 2014. Now hanging above the earth. Mindful only of a swirl of images. I have become dis-eased. Conscious of my acidic, bill-filled stomach. Car seat body, screen-screwed eyes. Tense, twittering neurons. This aging image needs Viagra,. The regular pump of a gym treadmill. A bronzing holiday or big lottery saviour. I saw a hearse today. And wondered about the empty husk. Those suited remains within that polished box.
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Carol Ray
http://www.carolray.net/newsletters.htm
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poeticfire.co.uk
The Priest Replies | poeticfire.co.uk
http://www.poeticfire.co.uk/2014/03/the-priest-replies
Laquo; The Joy of the Present Tense. March 26, 2014. Hold me in the healing hour. Touch my self-inflicted bruise. I am terrified of love. You draw me on, but I abuse. All the resurrecting loving. All the mysteries unfolding. All the hungry, urgent calling. That lights the knowledge I’ve been trawling. Shall I worship you as God? Yes, you are my most trusted friend. You walk with me along life’s path. And light my way, and light my end. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Your email address will not be published.
poeticfire.co.uk
Short Stories | poeticfire.co.uk
http://www.poeticfire.co.uk/category/short-stories
February 1, 2012. And why would they attack us anyway? Many are still hunting and gathering, though some of us are growing a few crops and settling down a bit’! Have you no imagination? And so it was done. Such is the power of imagination. And it did catch on; hundreds of menhirs/quoits and stone circles were erected by hunter-gatherers, and later at least 900 hill forts were constructed inBritainby primitive agriculturalists. November 30, 2011. Only the sound of his own breathing, and the throb of his o...
poeticfire.co.uk
Old | poeticfire.co.uk
http://www.poeticfire.co.uk/2014/03/old
Laquo; In the Mountains. March 26, 2014. The warmth doesn’t seem as warm as it was. And the cold’s like a wintering tide. But I remember long summer spells. When muscle-taut skin glowed with pride. Though the winters were sharp as icicles’ spikes. That pierced every bone to the marrow,. I grew in it’s grip, and drained every drip. Thirsty and eager and callow but. Now my old body can’t capture the warmth. Dance and play in the green’s dripping dew. But deep down inside, there’s still a spring tide.
poeticfire.co.uk
Wind | poeticfire.co.uk
http://www.poeticfire.co.uk/2014/03/wind
Laquo; Time and the Timeless. March 26, 2014. The wind blew open my heart’s door. I cursed, and slammed it shut once more. I cried atop a ravaged hill. Till only silence made me still. And in that silence grew a voice. Victim or victor was my choice. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *. Towards a Deeper Sense of Reality. Time and the Timeless. The Secular Man Speaks. The Joy of the Present Tense. On IN THE DANCE TO BECOMING.
poeticfire.co.uk
The Priest Spoke | poeticfire.co.uk
http://www.poeticfire.co.uk/2014/03/the-priest-spoke
Laquo; Canine Meeting. March 26, 2014. Curse this cross that nails my mind. Confines me in this tortured cell. Naked, but for one wrapped towel. Around the sex I’m taught is hell. These polarised, magnetic spikes. This rack that stretches every joint. Is this a resurrection life. Or what I worship, but a point. Towards a mirage in the sand. Where virgins wait to drain my powers? Is my vain worship in between. The aching thighs of time’s twin towers? Oh, I could wish a madman’s plane. Time and the Timeless.
poeticfire.co.uk
In the Mountains | poeticfire.co.uk
http://www.poeticfire.co.uk/2014/03/in-the-mountains
Laquo; The Priest Spoke. March 26, 2014. We have come to your wilderness. For we are sick of accountants’ analysis. And the tensions of tabloid terrors. Within your ancient, oh so ancient. We recognise our deepest need. And cling like heather. To your bosomed slopes. Into your waiting skin. While in the valley. Unconscious men drive blinkered on. Of their measured roads. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *. Towards a Deeper Sense of Reality.