Thursday 21 September 2017


Stasis in sunlight.
Then the blue expanse
of sky and horizon intrude.

Arthur's archetype
has drawn me here
to this high place - the Head

and its fissured precipices,
crumbling walls
and secrets I cannot quite catch:

The Grail.
Knight Seekers inciting
fanaticism -

hidden unfathomable truths,
mythic ghosts.
Now, something more profound

hauls me back through centuries.
Changing shape,
I am a different being -

a black
Cornish Chough, perched
in Gallos' hollow centre.

And now I
call to the Once and Future King:
a Totem's cry

carried on the Dragon's breath.
And I
become the Horn

whose reverberation
reawakens Him
to Albion's dire need:

a new Armageddon is upon us...

Friday 1 September 2017


Snowdon summit, air thin, two exhausted climbers.
World population seems illusory here.
Our shadows must surely touch Australia.

Thick cloud rushes up and over the Saddle.
It's cloying touch slows our progress, makes breathing difficult:
light-headedness brings visions of the Dark Angel.

Loose rocks dislodged from underfoot crash
over a thousand feet down sheer sides.
We gasp in unison: that could just as easily have been us!

The Angel's blackness closes in. Vertigo
induces transcendental awareness: we have strayed
into the shadowy realm of lost Souls...

Sorry, I meant to say...I will be absent for two weeks. Will be studying hard...and without access to any media.
It's gonna be tough...but hey...I'm sure I can do this - with the aid of your supportive thoughts!
See you soon...xoxoxo