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The tides are in
As I journey today
And I carry
A single lemon seed
In my pocket
To remind me
Of the potential
For transformation

Such a seed
Under favourable conditions
Will grow
Nurtured by mystic forces

But in doing so
It must break out
Of the tough shell
That protects
Its inner potential

Sometimes
A seed has to sit
And wait
And wait

For years

The wise carefully transfer
The jewel
Of true heritage
From one
To the next
And nothing is wasted

Today
I decide
To let the universe
Be my guide

To help me find
Hope
From a different source

One disconnected to the
Rotating axis
Of my daily grind

This rush of the modern age
Does not sit well with me

The struggle to keep up, keep up
Makes one feel like you are chasing others

Today I set my own pace
And allow others to join

If they wish

Fanned by the fair winds of the mystic
Like my seed
I can wait
2nd February 2016
Did you ever hear about ******* Lil?
She lived in ******* town on ******* hill,
She had a ******* dog and a ******* cat,
They fought all night with a ******* rat.

She had ******* hair on her ******* head.
She had a ******* dress that was poppy red:
She wore a snowbird hat and sleigh-riding clothes,
On her coat she wore a crimson, ******* rose.

Big gold chariots on the Milky Way,
Snakes and elephants silver and gray.
Oh the ******* blues they make me sad,
Oh the ******* blues make me feel bad.

Lil went to a snow party one cold night,
And the way she sniffed was sure a fright.
There was Hophead Mag with ***** Slim,
Kankakee Liz and Yen Shee Jim.

There was Morphine Sue and the Poppy Face Kid,
Climbed up snow ladders and down they skid;
There was the Stepladder Kit, a good six feet,
And the Sleigh-riding Sister who were hard to beat.

Along in the morning about half past three
They were all lit up like a Christmas tree;
Lil got home and started for bed,
Took another sniff and it knocked her dead.

They laid her out in her ******* clothes:
She wore a snowbird hat with a crimson rose;
On her headstone you’ll find this refrain:
She died as she lived, sniffing *******
by 8pm tomorrow,
i'll be sitting in a darkened room,
listening to
feindflug's vierte version
on compact,
apparently selling for about £40,
given i got the last one cheap...
lights off... emotions in;
while all the idiots can play boyscout
trying to censor vocabulary:
where a word exists with meaning
but there's no vector to sequence
it for a respectable meaning challenged:
necessitating a need to coerce any
form of activity, esp. cognitive activity
of it being thought, or spoken,
without an actual activity identifiable with
coercing a need to raise an army.
i'll raise a thousand jihadis
for a single european
joke i can understand
when the irish tell it...
i speak english and even i don't
understand english gaelic,
which makes me welsh and
the irish talking... something...
rough r rough e rough a c m b...
don't know... i drink and remain sober...
the irish were so dumb in joking
that the neo-nazis made shore in dover...
** ** dub orb line... made Lynn a saint
(halo missing)... then George came along...
and the dragon turned into a chameleon
to testify a pacifism for a rainbow;
made a hookah from a triangle,
then came glow-sticks oops oops goldfish ooh ah.
it's there, i've seen it,
in the last days of january
and the first days of february,
in england:
the sunset between 4pm and 5pm
reveals the famous vanilla sky
adapted to film,
from the original spanish
open your eyes (abre los ojos).
which is why poetry needs
to become more prone to optics
than resonate in competition
with mozarts and beethovens
and orchestras,
it's but a single voice
with the whirlwinds of silence
for music... it requires a detachment
from musicology,
and enter the realm of optics,
inquiring paintings, translating
paintings into animate scenarios,
using these crude alphabetical
tools to conjure earthquakes
and tsunamis and nose diving
crows perched in mid-flight
to an abrupt microscopic honing
of that scrap of food at the end
of the tunnel.
 Feb 2016 Connor Exodus
0o
Death, decay
Turning grey,
Fade away,
Unsaid.

Stay astray,
Betray today,
Fight anyway,
Instead.
 Feb 2016 Connor Exodus
Birdy
Maths
 Feb 2016 Connor Exodus
Birdy
I love maths
it proves that we were
just another mish mash
of geometric nonsense
refusing to accept
that you were a square
and that I was a circle
and that organic movements
do not match
with corners
and straight lines
Unlike you I **** at maths so I'll never understand
 Feb 2016 Connor Exodus
Joyce
Come and watch
the moon with me.
A silver light delight.
We stare together
on a dark night.
Feel the energy
through our veins.
In silence we remain.
A breath of fresh air.
Do you see the sparks
filled with hope.
Together we can
rule the world.
Cause someone's
out there.
Sending out flares.
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