Everything in its Right Place

Break in the Clouds The stones upon dead beaches  lie with oil that’s dripping. And the cry of all the wildlife echoes in the distance. Along with all the voices of the ones that weren’t “God’s children”. So you walk with eyes shut tight for how else can you glimpse a future? And try to keep your mind straight,  your body calm and sober. For within the darkness you search for the silhouette of justice, which has, long been smothered by the prime minister of hatred who speaks with a slippery tongue and is a master of phatic language. Seek from him only lies for he’s not known for honest answers. And then plead for the rain to stop. So tired, tired of waiting, waiting for a break in the clouds. The road like a line drawn by a fat magic marker. The engine like a static on a once harmonious frequency. The ale that kept you warm has since left you cold and empty.  Close these beaten eyes momentarily to perceive, the nigh...

The Treehouse          “I honestly don't know how many times I have to tell you Jack; I am not having another year of you letting our son down”.          “Well what do you want me to do?” Jack spoke with growing impatience and anger. It wasn't as if he was indifferent or apathetic to her cause. He wanted the same thing. He was just fed up of having the same argument over and over and getting nowhere. Is this what it all becomes? That sweet scent and inseparable moments turned to ashes, still clinging but untenable, like the sole of an old pair of shoes.           “Look I know I promised him this and I don’t want to go back on my word, I know it won’t set a good- “          “You’re too right it won’t set a good example Jack. If this was the first time I think I’d understand but it’s becoming rid...