From a Lawyer and Poet

Legality and poetry
are two different things
when you post a snap or poem
'tis yours,
yes
as time is recorded

but you also permit it
for sharing and commenting
see the guy coming
with cement behind
he will cement poetry
with legality
both will solidify into one bulk
so don't sulk

poetry is simple emotion
legal guys
work is to exploit
well up tears
so the jury may feel
how hard up may
one may have been

Tuesday
Im still in Tuesday...

Windscale gardens are reading hot
below the high box chimney top
equipped the bomb to join
the race
Uranium oxide
saving face
and cesium too
strontium 90
particles spew

in 57' they stopped
the two
no more toxicity
too the blue

...

Raining
tapping on the tin
the dark wing of
eve falls fast
like a hush
thankful the windows
only on the east side
went
far enough away
from the detonation
that nothing burned
either...but
the wind
was blowing
and not in the
good way

In cosy Western Camelot
(on humankind , another blot)
seems Aylan's been remembered, not.
The world forgot. The world forgot.

So now we have another sign.
Another icon for our time.
He's only five, concealed in grime.
He could be mine. He could be mine.

I watch him slowly wipe his brow
then stare, confused it seems, as how
his hands are dirty, bloodied now.
My head I bow. My head I bow.

At the Tartan Bonnet
next to the Smithy’s stall,
a picture labelled monster
is hanging on the wall.

The photograph is fuzzy,
looks like a bunch of tyres,
held to a piece of deadwood
by nails and string, or wires.

The locals say that tourists
are gullible, rich fools,
that no sign has been noted
by scientific tools.

The view over the water
is really rather good;
another compensation
is finest ale and food.

An ancient memory invades the fuar 
I pull my cape around me close
And climb the rock to see:
for I belonged to him
He ne’er belonged to me

I sit alone and stare to sea.....
Shrouded by the mist- 
my soul calls out to crashing waves
summoning his memory.
For I belonged to him.
He ne’er belonged to me.

LUCIFER

Across a dark and brooding sky
in winged flight , he fell, the Favorite
of God’s kingdom, the Bearer of Light,
and like a shooting star streaks of fire
betrayed EVIL’S coming .
Man lost his innocence . And the Soul
shuddered in fear

I am merely dirt, camouflaged as sand.
A snake-like twerp,
spreading poison
at the touch of my hand.
Commonly confused with bile
I hide behind the vilest of smiles.

I'm nothing if not a plague.
One so bitter, so rancid, so overstayed.
Wretched and putrid a few of my names.

A perfect storm that is sorrow
mixed with some shame.
When Blended together,
makes a hurricane no one man can weather.

I am all that is hate.
The purest of disease.
Unchallenged by Fate.
I rule with such ease.

a machine is a wreck
with flesh
purpose its mere
animation

people...pets..
animals are Love
care..survival
nurture if all went
well

they are not wrecks
but flesh and bone
heart and soul

journeys and travels
routs and rails
flightpaths
and compounds

and of the Creatures
collisions of Love
of Night things
and Day beings
the clash
power
control