The disciple

It is the knowing right from wrong and how long it takes to make the distinction. When you walk in dead men’s shoes losing track of time what was and no longer is becomes forever mine. I only touch on truths by chance they usually stay well hidden, but when I set my mast to…

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The intro editor

And even if you do cry an ocean someone will fill it with plastics and radioactive elements because nothing’s sacred anymore. Three score and ten if I last until then I’ll be lucky. The bible’s been ripped up and used for cigarette paper the acts of the apostles? I think not. Nothing’s inviolate it’s all…

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Lights out at nine

When we’re lost for something to say because the way that words are, they don’t go far enough and all that stuff about transparency hides me from what truth there might be if I had the words to express the feelings that howl within me which I hold deep in my chest. Life is not a…

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The factory whistle

More than fears grow. In the labyrinth where years are measured in moss on the wall and where the mighty call ‘yield’ the shield of truth is no protection. falsehoods twist through the corridors and swirl in the mist Kingdoms for an honest answer are not easy to come by, the knight at the helm…

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Tanker spills

  You can blame it on the headlights the chi-lites the shiites if it’s that which makes your matches burn   I take it on the chin and blame him or her, but never me I see many truths within the truth which we all know is a lie…

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‘pop goes the weasel’

I was never about being perfect because that’s a trick I can’t do, perfect is when you’re size nine, but you fit in a size eight leather shoe and perfect only becomes so when you want it but don’t even know. So, near enough is good enough and that’s good enough for me, if I…

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