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The Dark Realities of Addiction

Long live subtleties. And small gestures. All we need is fresh air and the correct posture. I thought I had lost ya. And somehow I got ya. 157 more words


Mr. Somebody's Prose

He spent ages looking for a place to go. But with no place to go he decided to write pages. And pages. And pages. “This time is different…” he says. 135 more words


Sunday Go to Meeting Bun!

Sunday Go to Meeting Bun


L. A. Marzulli

Do not love the world nor the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.  661 more words

L. A. Marzulli

jesusavesisrael reblogged this on JESUSAVESISRAEL.

Where to From Here?

Six engines shun neon.
Broken frames like clouds.
I look up, squint,
Zoom in and gasp.
The guards zap me.
“Re-wind.” Whispers the constable.
“What?” My tongue curls. 12 more words


Excuse my convolutions

(Inspired by a positive blog which I shan’t name for my negativities may infect its remedies.) – thank you to that blog author.

Love fell from nigh… 78 more words



Sunday evening, Cricket’s on,

Lewis lost in Monaco,

My two boys must go to bed,

Bank holiday tomorrow.

And so the evening settles in,

The family’s happy, feeling fine, 14 more words


In the confluence of language 

Being without being

The dubious garden of memory

How striking, a word without reverse