This ****** world just got bloodier,
The streets of the romance city are painted red.
Islamic state, you owned up and sound
So pleased with yourself.
How dare you.
In the name of Allah, the all loving,
You just killed people,
You did it.
Allah, who may well be benevolent,
Has nothing to do
With the blood on your hands.

I have been heedless
reckless in my need
for perpetual motion.

Hours, a blurred periphery
promises like blades
pointed down

in case I stumbled.

The poet frames the void.
The critic voids the frame.

Sitting down to a game
that neither of us knew how to play ..

Sometimes the night is so quiet
feels like it's demanding us
to disperse into its chasm
like the seeds of silence
and caressed by the darkness
A perfect zilch to be within
leaving me with a kind of abscess that only a deadly cold could favour me such
and me lying and enduring the abyss.....