since felicity is first amongst the faculties

it will never need you
to find a golden calf
in El Dorado
or a lost penny on the beach.

when spring-time comes
my beagle skateboards for the World Cup,
and kisses aren’t a better father-land
than wishes

undignified i sweep by all irregularities
(don’t crypto-analyse this)

It occurred to me
as I came across another
interminable entertainment slaughter
unfolding on my so-called smart TV

That the carefully crafted
blood and pain and fear I saw
was the same identical engulfing maw

of hatred murder rape and torture
that fills almost every media item
in our despairing poisoned broken land.

How much violence do they want
to pollute our daily lives with,
How much horror is enough
to sate the brutality of profit?

I am your divine motivation,
Incensed, the only white ghost you sense daily,
The invisible sharpness of pain you feel thinking of me;
Triggered by the sudden death of my social media presence;
Imagination haunted;
Longing escapes into the graveyard;
Together with prayers of resurrection.
I am your buried treasure in the movie of life;
Dualism coveted--
my invisible citizenship on earth, and -
Roaming free with ghosts in another universe,
distanced from you, was it by choice?

I am the sun, I am the sky
The light that shines with wonderous eyes
I am the moon, I am the stars
The meteors that shower Mars
I am the earth, I am the roots
The trees that tower flowers bloomed
I am the rock, I am the stone
The minerals that hold below
I am the North, I am the South
That gives direction to each cloud
I am the wind, I am the breeze
The elements that flow with ease
I am the fire, I am the heat
Igniting dreams that spark each beat
I am the birth, I am the breath

I was standing in a corner
draining the vein, you see
When out from the wall, stepping slowly
came a man of pure ebony

Plain and black and not there, but he was...
I saw him you see, was I dead?
His eyes were a blank, didn't see me
but the emptiness filled me with dread

The man sleeping under the plastic
moaned low, and Reaper touched lightly
He lost the race, another day of life
The man gasped just once, so slightly...

A whistle follows her down the street
like a puppy going through puberty
Various voices of admiration
aged timber and saplings alike
rustling their leaves and shaking branches

Unaware of the havoc caused by her very presence
she strode straight through the resolve
of every married man on the street
to steal bits of heart, and feed imaginations
let loose in the night

I'd like to be invisible
How much fun you think it'd be
If they couldn't see you
when you pinched their knee?

Sometimes I really wonder
what do people do
when no one is about
I'll bet you wonder too

But peeping in on people
is rude, or so they say
So, I guess that when they're looking back
I'll return another day.

Here I stand
Where all great things collide
Upon the daylight’s bittersweet waning
The moon is now full for the second time this month
It is blue and massive and floats low in the horizon
This is the last full moon of summer
whose days now scatter to the shifting winds
like wildflower seeds who lie dormant
Waiting ever patiently
for their inevitable rebirth

The bins of Old London are fattened and gorged
Gulping down gadgets and cracked plastic toys,
Gagging on curry, tofu and toast,
Somebody’s rubbish and somebody’s joy,
Grandpa’s teeth and mothers’ pink socks,
All bunged in the bins of old London.

But foxes feed here, and squirrels swing by,
So do the homeless and thrifty.
What is worthless to you
Is worth more than jewels
To the hungry and poor of Old London.

The magics of the will imprinting upon your personal aura,
With the pineal gland transferring its shapes into your brain,
And dynamic minds essence corrupting not becoming purer,
Leading an individual's enlightenment to then become insane.

As I focus my thoughts into their densities they condense,
And my patterns of consciousness become a part of yours,
The weight of your actions consequences now so immense,
I Influence your freedom and nature through sacred laws.