workshop
Canto One ~ In the heart of the City of Laura, beneath Torgándon and its White Salt Mists, a glittering, cream white colored spire stands flawlessly straight and reaching tall enough to be shroud most mornings in the swirling clouds that so often blanket the North Country. It is The Cornicle of the King and has stood, by men’s reckoning, more than a thousand years, but the reckoning of common men is short.
My Wish For You
Since you're so hell bent
On finding someone new
Is that you find her
Your perfect woman
The ghost that haunts our relationship
The bitch hanging over my head
My Wish For You
Is that she is all you ever dreamed of
That she performs to your satisfaction
May she meet all your ridiculous requirements
Perhaps you should make her fill out an application
My Wish For You
Is that every time you screw her
You see my face
Wouldn't want you to forget
Your biggest mistake
As anyone noticed lately ‘
How time is speeding up?
An old friend of mine says
it’s the detrition of the time continuum’ ?
I got up one day last week
made breakfast
Had a shower
got dressed
Just in time to see the sun set!.
When I was young
I remember one day
it was the school holidays, June
I went in the woods, to play,
That day lasted three n’ a half weeks!
Whew’
I was glad to get to bed that day.
Mud on the belly of the rainbow serpent
mud in its gut
mud oozing from it's eyelids
mud from between each sodden layer of skin
flung at every speed in every direction,
a floriade appears for a snap from the the caked on dust.
Mud as your bones prior to your skull closing
mud that stretches out it's hands to catch your weeping body
mud that sleeps next to you, that wakes up
to whisper it's going to be okay
mud over your mouth as you whine for food.
Killer needed a new tool
So He went to Dave’s Not Here
A thing for slow and tortuous death
A thing instilling primal fear
There was a special date real soon
He wanted something to impress
She is a special lady friend
Can’t wait to see her in a dress!
Now Dave is up for some inventing
But let’s have coffee and a joint
I’d like to wake and bake a little
before we get down to the point
sits on her royal haunches
dark saucer ovid watcher
and offers a submission
climbs aboard my haunted frame
her short shorn look
and leans her muscle clad
throat against
my chest
where my heart sings
my hand floats like a searching
ghost
and settles on her spine
on the union where her dark wings
gather
we are both weary
brokering our deals
beneath auspicious
sweat stained days
Scott's -------------------------------------------------------------Ron's
the lines on my face --------------------------------------- the mapwork furrowed
tell a furlong tale ----------------------------------------------- on my face will spell
no thought dare erase ----------------------------------- each loss a burrow
I saw myself meandering through those streets
which once were the lovely galleries of time…
age has ruined the lame,
as always
and
upon the lacerations of time on poor skins
we new lives want to begin
sad as it may appear
but what will they do
for whom solution of poverty is dear,
money dearer too
they can only bark at those already down trodden,
what else can they do
but to let ruins be the final outcome,
strung taught
temptress gleans an edge
hovering above holy
to the surrendered one
paten shines
glistening wet with adore
pain the welcome price
grail reachable
aflame
candles upon the alter
offer reverence
flagellation
mind body unite
explosion
cosmos condones
this petty flight
Canto Twelve ~ The storm is in its last hours as Gundhag races to the battlefield.
All the region is aware of the tumult caused by the boy and his ill contrived adventure. Few, if any, might understand. Legionnaires scattered about the countryside huddle fearfully in campsites. Their original purpose was to collect resource materiel left behind in combat. Some of them now await more than the storm’s end.
A terrified cry emanating from the monster has brought the witch quickly and without customary store of tools mystical or otherwise.
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