Squigglesy's profile

Concrete seagulls, bullied crows, fields that no farmer mows, Wind from turbines in the ground, people lie beneath the mound. Copper morning sky beats down, sun’s eyes peep through golden crowns, Spits of water white as day whistle on their downward way. My mind flits around the scene, in and out and in between, My eyes float on night’s old paint; bruises growing soft and faint.

I ask myself what saves my Life; Reason’s corpse hid in the night? Reason told me yellow-eyed, “A wretched Life should prob’ly die. Harm can only come of one Whose turning eye and forkèd tongue, Whose face of paste and marble hue At once is here and bids adieu.” Life cantered over bush and brook, Lane and bridge with mirth were shook. Hope’s beyond the distant stile, Forever further, mile on mile. Life raced on until its humour Curdled, twisted to a tumour. Perhaps a passing gorse bush sank N...

I ask myself what saves my Life; Reason’s corpse hid in the night? Reason told me yellow-eyed, “A wretched Life should prob’ly die. Harm can only come of one Whose turning eye and forkèd tongue, Whose face of paste and marble hue At once is here and bids adieu.” Life cantered over bush and brook, Lane and bridge with mirth were shook. Hope’s beyond the distant stile, Forever further, mile on mile. Life raced on until its humour Curdled, twisted to a tumour. Perhaps a passing gorse bush sank N...

Characters: RENÉ DESCARTES VOICE MALIGN GENIUS UNICORN TWO SERAPHIM. Props: A French 17thC style wooden desk. A chair of the same style. A large bale of herb resembling marijuana. A brandy bottle shaped container that bounces when dropped. Two clouds on which people can sit, to be lowered from above stage. A rolled cigarette resembling a joint. ............................................................................ (RENÉ DESCARTES walks on stage in appropriate 17thC dress, followed by a ...

(chorus) If the cold on the mountain turns to rain, The rain makes a stream, The stream makes a river, And the river fills the sea, Why won't this cold leave me? (verse 1) It's been a while since I sailed Through strawberry-flavoured days, My greenhouse has failed And shattered in decay. (verse 2) I've been searching for a muse On icy Mount Parnassus, But the virgin snow I used Has turned to ashes. (bridge) It's so sublime, I've lost myself Beyond even an echo. But, in time, I've found myself...