We Share …

We share a long road, a loud stage:

The snake, the soldier, the lord and I,

Learning from each other that bad,

In some circumstances,

Can be quite the opposite

But that wrong is always wrong.

We feel the earth move –

In  a good way –

Around us, feel the warmth,

The support

As well as the cold.

The Orange Genie

In my head of course

I’ve always been

Master of the

One-legged,

Turn-around,

Tumble-down

Snake and shake shuffle

Between platform five

And the fantasy gun

I aim at the midnight sun.

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Questions Without Marks

I feel them all,

These whispers without whispering,

As they rattle secretly -and not –

Around this real-ether world.

We’ve never been face-to-face

Yet, disturbingly, and its opposite

She knows me so well.

There are moments, she says

Without speaking when she hangs

On my words. There are days,

I know when I am held in thrall by

Her brutally innocent intuits:

Questions without marks.

“Were we not more whole,

More in touch, when we respected

Those who commune with serpents?

When we recognised the snake as

Healer rather than nightmare?”