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The Phantoms of the Blue Caves
I am no longer playing cards With these floating white devils The corruption of their blank games Has done little to illuminate The brittle poetry between the lines The fifth sun has now completed its journey Its terrible reign will not be mourned
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Cinquième Soleil
It is nearly dark now This the most beautiful Of all my remembered suns Is nearing its extinction There will not be a sixth sun
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My Financial Journalist
I met Malcolm Peters at the FGX and then he was gone Twenty years previously he had exposed corruption Within the highest levels of government Three politicians were assassinated by three radicals I poisoned the Prime Minister it was a quiet assassination Not violent and showy like the rest but just as deadly Sham the […]
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Spring Starts at Six
As the winter slowly faded I wrote these words In my heavily flowered diary Spring Starts at Six My ambition was meaningless It was a tired empty thought Which now as the April arrives Seems as vacant as this journey
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Sud-Ouest
Every Summer we drive South South-West To our pink and white Monila-Chess Caravan We try to follow the sun And understand the sea winds As we are situated beach side Amongst the rolling sand dunes It is a gentle idyllic location Which is much loved by my friends Robert Monica Kristof & Pal
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Mad Voyage Around L’Wren
Every day when I wake up I receive At least twelve photographs from my sister Of trains and mountains Of birds and bees Of giant valleys And verdant trees Sometimes I lose track of L’Wren She is lost in her mad voy-age
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L’Wren drinks tea
My sister is in Sri Lanka at present With her friends Su and Phill Yesterday they visited A tea plantation L’Wren sent me two photo graphs
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Cuba Commune
We grew our hair long and tried To forget about our comfortable past There were no rules or ownership We were all free or so we thought Wes Banski was the first leave Followed shortly after by Purple Sue Wilma Jayne and Nelly Parks The construction workers treated us well And were for the most […]
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Mauvais œil
One day I will find the most evil of words
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Sans visage
If you wear a mask for long enough Then it becomes your actual face