Gazing south as if some wise, well worn fisherman,leaning against the wroughted railed pier in all its victorian, gordy, standing, splendor.

Warmed and held by the summer sun as close as shared spoon-cuddled arms.

On thermal  air, calls and laughter rise from towelled steaked plots
blinding and shading the razor sharp hungry sea-gulls eye from flakey white flesh in all its golden battered salt-shuck sharpness,
competeing on the nose with hand-held melting creamyness, as they waft and weave gently by.

Below the slatted sound , the magic hypnotic spell of lapping waves lift and tilt me on a day dream of youthful lost love.

To a day we made our sun run in all its lazyness, dimming the enviour moon in its wake and kissing still the hands on the pasty-face black towering clock
                                          As time slipped way and was some where else.

With worn drift wood and tingleling toes you defaced the sand with a graphity the council tryed but couldn't erace.
And there it lies still, benieth the smooth pebbled shore,
                                                          ­                                                           kissed each day with salty tears and remembered sighs.

A fearful screaming siren pieces the soft English air, Its doppled blast, chilling,  pushing, demanding its screeching way through the brain, to some others pained, tear filled day,
                                                            ­                                then fades on the breeze.

A sun blushed child frowns through pink Brighton rock lips and eyes as blue as the sea, a secert smile is shared as if in that innocence I knew  that one magic day she will run on skipping painted toes and giggles sweet to etch for him in soft blank sand her love on this dreamy day beach.

So off the sea and off the pier I strole, absorbed and lost among the tripping faced crowd,into the sun dipped west and home alone.

Yet knowing you will remain forever mine, held in crystal dimonded grains, whilst around the bitter -sweet changing tides ebb and flow          
                     down
                                       through
                                                          the  
­                                                                 ­  years.

and the skies with sudden encore come
filled with words not worked
orchastrating a full complement
of treacherous ambition
and will an exploration
of competeing claim of unsundry wills
and such as is gives men a will to transform themselves
to give a cause to anciet or recent voice
a permissible presentation of possibilities
in battle and brawl with a blunt rhetorical and physical disorder
which does emphasize such dramas
with stark, violent and repressive potential
all tantilized with the prospect of wealth in the ground
make a contention with vicious energies
of hate and ambition that propels
an intence and exhausting experience
upon a once civil-world to spiral
vertiginously toward an ancient choas
enacting old stories with the oppresiveweight of the past
now monstrous individualism
whose hideously fragile bonds to peace
no longer exeert their hold
and thus divorse themselves
with an individual rapaciousness
annihilating lives with a curiousley
derivative quality for a store of gas and oil
and disinherite themselves from moral constriant
evoking the soliloquy of historical hypocrisy
with a mutilation of truth
in a tragedy of lament for all human kind
then sudden uncalled for encore fills the skies