human being, being. For
this joy I endure.
Before being killed at seventeen, I was G C Kite-Powell. Now zombiefied, I have breathed ghostly, fragmented life into this blog. Within, you will find a series of snapshots in the form of corrupted, subjective haiku, intended to enliven.
Breathe deep
The gathering gloom
Watch lights fade
From every room
Bedsitter people
Look back and lament
Another day's useless
Energy spent
from Nights In White Satin (Full Version)
- Moody Blues
Saturday, 20 August 2011
314 Neutral-ish: Robbery
Doubtless, Cameron's
class war on human rights will
gain support from plebs.
313 Dark-ish: Treachery
Dad's shout-attacks were
betrayals of trust. They brought
crisis in their wake.
Friday, 19 August 2011
310 Dark-ish: At Dad's Dentist's,,, (Five years old.)
Beautiful red bar:
Silent, glowing, liar. You burned me, and I SCREAMED!
Thursday, 18 August 2011
Wednesday, 17 August 2011
306 Light-ish: Lucky Targets
A blur panics birds
in the willow. Noise draws cats,
but the hawk's hunt failed.
304 Dark-ish: Sitting Ducks
Behind closed doors,
helpless kids absorb Dad's rage.
Endless flashbacks form.
Tuesday, 16 August 2011
303 Light-ish: Homecoming
Meeow! Scratchy scramble.
In via the window. Food, then
perhaps a greeting.
302 Neutral-ish: Elitist Violence
Tories talk too tough:
Hard on rioters, tax cut
for thieving bankers.
301 Dark-ish: Disabled
Dad made dread, self-doubt.
Life chances slipped by, decades
of thought-stunting angst.
Life chances slipped by, decades
of thought-stunting angst.
Monday, 15 August 2011
Sunday, 14 August 2011
297 Light-ish: Financial Violence
Clipperty clop, the
first horseman was a banker.
Nay, a highwayman!
296 Neutral-ish: Riotous Motive
British people fear,
want revenge. Trade your freedom
for a safer state?