Alchemisland

Warped floorboards of once lordly manor, courtly manners Old banners old families, armour suits rattling at passing phantoms Glances, hints of spirits on the landing chalked up to flights of gin fancy By gentlekin of quaint habit, a monk in a stained habit this house inhabits Stained glass depicting a knight in plain tabard, scabbard…

Breathing harder seeming this season, it is the cold and that alone I feel cold and something in the throat, I groan and know not why I will survive I will survive, I will bud in Spring, return alive From the three day cave where my corpse climbed I awake to life, straining at the…

Acme anvil dropped on head from a height, ouch Always “and still” after my title fights, bet the house Lit up, shut up security with a look Primed the left hook but shook it off Nobody looks crooked since I took off They’re asking me about bookings Booklets, how to become crooked as My wake…

Stabbing every clock I see, trying to kill time I am half-digested stones masquerading as eaten infants In a malicious god’s wafflepocket Oh! The woes behold the sons and fathers In their roles as opposites, at throats like foxes in famine Why must we battle, what must we master – and fast – to avoid…

Broad banners dangling like a gin-zonked aunt’s hair Spilling over a couch arm after a festive family affair Rafters hidden behind plaster versions of the works of old masters Many masons happen to be in attendance, attendants await patiently Their need, sickly sleek obeisance, carrying gin-laden trays To lined mavens and ladies in waiting Men…