I know you are there, all I can do is stare at the inside of my mind. I'm still alive, to tell you I strive, but, I can’t make you see I’m still alive. No movement I make, you hope I awake, laying here is not the person you know, I look like a fake. … Continue reading Life Machine
Deserted Street
Men and boys say good bye all know the reason why. Called up to serve in a war they don’t deserve on the front line, not reserves. Whole Streets fighting together as a regiment. Swathes of streets empty of men who will never return. Desolate streets no dads to greet, no sons to hug mums, … Continue reading Deserted Street
Bomber
Why do you kill hurt and maim, it’s not done in my name, making children die and families cry, so you can be a martyr up in the sky? Yet you are fake, you need a shake, there is no excuse to cause a wake. No motive, no greed, just false belief that makes lives … Continue reading Bomber
Little Boy Soldier
Little boy soldier what have they told ya? Kalashnikov on your shoulder, ten or eleven not much older. Did they tell you that you might die and stop you from having a cry and did they tell you the truth about why? It won’t hurt you won’t die and if you do you will be … Continue reading Little Boy Soldier
Beautiful Day
Wind blows through shimmering trees, blossom flies up to the sky with the bees. freshly cut grass makes you sneeze, children playing with dirty knees trees turn green for as far as the eye can see. Birds pick at insects and worms before departing on isotherms. the wind lifts them to the sky on their wings, carrying … Continue reading Beautiful Day
Apache
A big wind fills the sky dropping out of the storms eye, dust cloud to shroud, ready to deploy its lethal crowd. Down goes the ramp to start the decamp, thirty men fresh out of camp. Out they go to and froe; left and right into the night covering the arcs in case of a … Continue reading Apache
Graveyard
In the ground row by row stand headstones and crosses some with names and couples and heroes, some plots of people we don’t know. Adults and children who will never grow but who’s memories will never go. Young and old death makes no distinction all of them laid in the cold. People come and pay … Continue reading Graveyard
Rhythm of the Ink 
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