Dead Vulture - A Photograph by Munir Virani 20/155

I am convinced you cannot understand
How I feel right now, just sat here
The potent force of an implied demand
The stillness of death is somehow shocking
"do something, do something, don't just sit there"
As a dead bird speaks from a photograph
by Munir Virani, does he still care?
Such a poignant and and stirring epitaph
Overflowing with emotion, I am
I have been near to death so recently
Could this be a weird and self centered scam?
Can I create with generosity
I hope so, I really want to believe
A fertile heart can respond and receive

http://www.rspb.org.uk/supporting/campaigns/vultures/
http://www.peregrinefund.org/conserve_category.asp?category=Asian%20Vulture%20Crisis
http://www.munirvirani.com/

On Loving The Coco Queen Bean 19/155

I am so deeply in love with Coco
For too long advertisers have stolen
The abandoned joy and sensual glow;
As more than their bank accounts got swollen,
Of the darkly sensual Coco Queen.
Mother Earth's dark bean is so misused
Mixed with ingredients that are obscene
Shameful bingeing as bodies are abused
Sugar coated rise in obesity
Brilliant beauty trapped in a fat shell
Dying to escape the monotony
Of craving the succour of that dark well
Raw chocolate is healing with pure intent
Full of vitality and nourishment

Note: For those of you who like me (post Cancer etc) LOVE chocolate but want to avoid sugar and dodgy additives the best I have ever tasted is made by Liz Bygrave available at www.sweetsensationsuk.com. I mention this because I support ethical companies who have the well being of the planet and the consumer at the core of their ethos.

The Sweet Young Boy With The Toy Hand Grenade 18/155

It is amazing how the eye can twist,
Turn and embellish the things that we see
It fell from his hand and behind his wrist
About to explode but then silently
The sweet young boy with the toy hand grenade
Smiled at me as I looked at his play thing
Lost in the feverish inner tirade
A plastic owl, an awakening sting
An innocent young boy with no weapon
Walking down the street and playing sweetly
The sick demons of my own perception
Imposing this dark scene so suddenly
The 'grenade' was my own dark confection
A figment of my own sad invention

Knowing 17/155

I have been a dumb blonde most of my life

I am not suggesting I am thick, like

Just that all my conversations are rife

With high mountains I am afraid to hike

Sweet hidden barbs of all the things that scare

Little secrets that only I could know

An unwelcome hole in my underwear

A big gap that suddenly starts to show

I mind that gap in my integrity

That traps my nerve endings in a dark vice

Eroding the voice of my dignity

I am a drip, drip a wafer thin slice

Who in tarnation am I meant to be

Ah yes, I know, I am meant to be me

Micro Anorak 16/155

I think I am an anorak, Oh Yeah

God is in the detail of all nature

Small beautiful landscapes, appear, confess

The latent force of their hidden future

Withering plants hold tomorrows sweet pods

Held on a stalk of a dying Mother

Declaring their destiny to the Gods

We all get lost in the wide scream of life

focussing on our intimate drama

Still perspective is the Devil's dark wife

Freezing us in a strange diorama

I scratch the surface with my micro lens

The cycle is not harsh, it just pretends

The Tempests Seed 15/155

You have to be brave to admit new peace

We've clung to the rocks of our perspectives

Serving our own argumentative beasts

Certain of our own moral invectives

How to release through waves of confusion

that permeate this steely certainty ?

Is the white flag an illusion

Or does it require a response from me?

This is what we want and all that we need

But letting go is a subtle art form

From the razors edge and tempests seed

new born trust is taunted by righteous scorn

This is the wrong kind of adaptation

in such a delicate situation

Vanities Cage 14/155

Fat face let go of your simpering rage

Beneath the bile you are a Lioness

Release dignity from vanities cage

Listen to the words of the wise witness

I have been with you all along the line

I have listened to the words you have said

And placed in places with different signs

To deflect the light while your warm heart bled

I felt your confusion and frustration

The fear and sense of inadequacy

filling the shadows of every situation

immune to your emotions fluency

All ways and forever striving to be

Resisting the grace of just being me