Studied the environment lately and it just makes me desire a life in the country even more so, and also to travel the world, to see amazing sights before they are torn and ripped and turned into buildings. 'Great' cities, such as London. Culture but no heart, activity with no excitement and interaction with no passion.

Mother Earth

Cars, as tears, make haste to trace
Roads, as wrinkles, which line thy face
and men, with crosses, anger thee
crediting god, for your beauty
and they close your legs to us all
make us pay to answer your call
you are tamed, shamed and made to whore
where bouncers in green guard your door
your bright hair, in which we'd play
aged so sudden, turned to grey
cement and concrete reach the sky,
as nameless grey suits heave a sigh
and your sweet, fresh, natural breath
turns to smog, a stifling death.

New things for new seasons

Hello there.
Well, Spring is slowly beginning to wake up, which is nice. I hope she's in a jolly mood. With the new season looming i've developed a new musical love...Quran recital vocals. How strange, yet very moving. Maybe now i can bury my head in the Quran! Although i don't get on well with religion so maybe a bad idea.
I can officially say i've given up smoking now, after 12 years of cigarettes spewing industrial like smoke into the land of my lungs. Good that i stopped before my lungs became the ozone layer though :)

New Beginnings and happy times...

Spring Trees

The trunk is the easel, the leaves the art
The former the body, the latter the heart
Neighbouring trees that begin to entwine
To share the sunlight, its clearly a sign.

A perfect picture, a time to begin
To study the world; to take it all in
To dance in the rain; to bathe in the sun
Give legs to ideas and let them run.

Well, i was most upset when i had to try building and couldnt decide what to use for buttons and some features. All these strikes are making me think of the miners strikes in the 80s. Although obviously they haven't reached the same heights and hopefully they won't. Still they made me think about those times and it has just hit me that it was coal that was used for snowmen, i forgot about that!



A life that was lent.
Britain's going bust
Ruined by the rich
Naïve, misplaced trust
Drove us to the ditch

Clearly the bankers
With bonuses so big
Are worthless wankers
Chasing rainbows to dig

The whole school of thought
Always to borrow
To have what we sought
Forget tomorrow

Well tomorrow came
As the jobs all went
And spoiled our game
Our life that was lent.

lost childhood

Well, to be fair, it's not really lost. I know exactly where it is, that doesn't mean i can grasp it though. This is because it's in the past. The snow reminded me of been a child, i haven't experienced snow like that since i was very young! It was a wonderful and refreshing feeling to bury my head in the snow like the ostrich that i am. I did this to hide from my advancing years, i found the snow much more welcoming than the dry, choking and intrusive sand. However, my hide-away has officailly turned to grey slush and drenched grass. Back to reality which, to be honest with you, is quite a nice place to be right now.

Growing Pains

From daisy chains and summer lawns
to rainy nights & a soul that mourns
for innocence lost, for all the mistakes
daggers in backs and dull winter aches
blood that bled red has changed its hue
to a startling shade of forget-me-not-blue
eyes which were white, turn nicotine yellow
whats now desperation was once so mellow
bright searing flames fade to charcoal black
which hide what we had and show what we lack