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Fuelmeat
His sanctions are conveyed through imaginations So she said Before the cross, drawn by the trail Left by a Christ who bled as he fled, Before she was fed to flames. La Pucelle The pagan splendour of that amazing maiden.
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Judging me
A poem says less than a bed unmade Swearing every other day proves the rule’s usefulness.
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Natural boundaries
The end of all rainbows Where mightiness ends Where mightier no longer lends itself To prolonging Rome. Let clefts And shelves and sheets and seas And peaks and marshes rank with disease Mark borders, beyond which no Roman feet No roman fleets No roman steels Shall seek to steal Or impose leanmaking tithes A screaming…
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Who writes the waves? Who plots the heat?
He creates stirring Turner waves To smash survivors begging to be saved. Wakes to survey; enjoys fiery lakes forming in craters after quakes, Theirs the Hammer Saint, destruction-favouring devastator. To show them His favour and patronage he did send trials Job-fashion Ensured the icy fracture of the grand galleon That allied Belfast had fashioned After…
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God the tinkerer
God’s fist gives the course of history its due licks. A sable legend kept fact and unalleged, unlegend By the protected ledgers of Protestation’s progeny, Whose sterner God wields a burning rod, And is leal to a hod wielder. God of field and of honest creatures Of the screeching pagan, the discreetly burned page Of…
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Alchemisland 