Mr. Media what do you see in use?
Stupidity in a chair, idiocracy in the air

Education is just a blur, a vision that has been lost

Crippled by news crews that cast platooned views then show you what's not true.

Picture your life in a frame of comparison then digest their daily distorted narratives.

That's a daily dose for the average men. Lies captured in vivid images, Titles Capitalized, idols dress in disguise

take out your knife and cut the veil from your eyes for their message is too addictive, don't let repetition A rise.

Depressions a state of mind, medication is what follows, but what would happen to the industry's if their pills were never swallowed.

a family's all you need to fill the gaps & the hollows, don't choose your friends for today instead keep them close for tomorrow.

You'll never know what could happen, you'll always fear in the night...tragedy and calamity always just sound alike.

But if you take a moment to breathe you'll realize that you will be all right, medias all left...us with faulty fears of fiction and pure threat...depictions of falseness, fueling the mindless, yes those who don't feel, will soon witness a riot, a riot of self-destruction

Everyone has a function, soon you will find yours, with this property comes decisions, decisions at all doors

I watched the fox, rat held firmly in its jaw,
Trot across the street, lithely avoiding the cars,
Ears pricked up.

It slithered under a fence and weaved through the undergrowth,
Not once acknowledging my presence.
Disappearing in the night, it yelped out its echoes in the wood
Licking out worms.

The shadowed moon slung down its light
Like weak silver bristles from the back of a carved out hedgehog
Covered with newly deposited fox saliva.
It had screamed as it was consumed-unable to die!

The crow stabbed at a newly dead rock pigeon
As the stalking cat pounced......
Death mingled!

Joe, who lived near me, waved:
I waved back, wondering why he saw nothing.

The grey fox barks
every evening, echoing
the perimeter of its
territory.

The red fox cozies up
next to the brook house
making a friend with the
inhabitant inside.

The black bear sits
its frumpy *** on the
porch of a new homestead.

The trees bend towards the
Earth. Reminding each creature
of its transient position.

Long ginger muzzle
eyes burning
through the copse, fixed upon
the snuffling vole eating
grubs in the moonlight,fangs
like stunted darning needles
revealed in its widening jaw.
hunching in the grass
it crawled cautiously forward
and pounced
like a god on an acolyte
quenching blood-lust-
the fox ate again that night.

In today's complex world
Full of questions and hazards
Where some voices go unheard
And people have conflicting standards
Sometimes I wish
That for a little time
I could be less human-ish
And more canine

I could run like crazy
And bark like a dog
And after hours of playing
I'd skeep like a log

I could jump and yip
As a clever little fox
With agility and wit
I could skip over rocks

I could join the chase
As a strong hunting wolf
In an open, starry space
I could just howl and woof

Somedays I'd like
To be of genus Canis
For I'd enjoy being doglike
When humanity gets on my wits

The sunrise burns the sky
A carefully coloured explosion
Blooded light flooding the low Kent fields that lie
Before Maidstone, excreting soundless motion:
Yellow carnation shards sway
With this violent advent of day.

In Hucking Estate diaphanous bluebells nestle
Beneath the groping canopy
Of Ash. Oak; the encroaching stinging nettle
Shields the frequent woodland scree
Covering with a verdant flush
Brooks that through the stones invisibly rush.

Within the hour, the Gorgon-headed sun
Sweeps aside the cloud-
The red into blue and orange has run
And in Lower Fullingpits Wood the increasingly  loud
Shuffling of badger attacking vole, fox strangling rabbit,
All compounded into daily habit.

The Kent Downs rise and fall
Like resurrected earth-bound music from a time
When hill, wood and pool
Emerged from unfettered chalk and lime.
Before the Cantii hunted in ancient Wents Wood,
For deer and boar, spurred not by hunger but for the love of blood.

Above the sparrow-hawk attacks the sparrows
Claw enmeshed in feather,
Beak unravelling neck. The unalterable sorrows
Of nature and weather.
Cruelty never ceases, but just gets more efficient-
Kindness remains deficient.

When He's here.
When I have night terrors, he's next to me.
When I laugh, he smiles with me.
When I get stressed, he distracts me.
When I'm working, he follows me.
When I cry, he kisses my tears.
When I wander, he's always at my side.
When I became paralyzed, he became more alert.
When I need a hug, he accepts my one armed hug.

Night time; the foxes dance in the pale moonlight,
with their beautiful black eyes shining bright.
The wolves howl towards the night sky,
singing a sublime song through each and every cry.
Owls hidden in the swaying forest trees,
watching out for their prey, solemn and at ease.
This is the wild and it's a beautiful place,
one that humans should learn to embrace.
- cowritten with Maddison Perry (9 years old)

a young fox nestled
beneath its mother's red tail
sleeps soundly once more