#ArtBillyChildishPoetry
It isn’t in the way the moonlight… nor is it in the way your hair mov… it is not to be found if you set o… nor is it in your past waiting for some archaeologist of the mind
I met a man who could recite all t… of the “Romance of the Rose” but… I met a man who could recite PI to one thousand decimal points but could not find a rhyme
“I met a man called Norman Manly, who’d spent 38 years of his life installing, repairing and cleaning church organs. He’d have continued in this way had it not been for the rather stran...
Riding through the night on my thr… Green light dancing in the land of… One eye closed and one wise open Runewise led and mantras spoken Over hills and through the valleys
I am the Raven a boundary crosser at the gates of… at the gates of life I am the outsider artist the educated fool
I made my way to the crossroads at the very edge of town around that magic demi hour when the sun goes down old newspaper headlines
An eight year old boy scrambles over the rubble of his neighbourho… where once he played streetball with his missing schoolmates. With Ibex like agility he leaps,
I am a young man stealing time and sunlight from the gods I am an old man refusing to pray or pay for more life I am a caged animal trying
Like a hoof-pick digging deep into the V shaped groove of the horses hoof the poets pen must be gripped forcibly yet tenderly
It is only by thinking things out as one lives them, and living things out as one thinks them that a man or society can be said to think or live at all
God is everywhere God is in the meadows full of flow… God is the child locked in a cupbo… God is with the dolphins in the se… God is at the heart of all atrocit…
Trimming the wick of the giant can… the last lighthouse keeper rides t… climbing out onto the ledge he exh… as the cruel green sea beckons lik… one step away from eternity he hes…
When I was a homeless teenager on… in the early seventies, I consuned… pharmaceuticals, smack, barbs, spe… ....one time I even injected whisk… just to see how it would feel....
Drip, drip, drip says the stand-pi… in the shanty town as the young mothers gather round plastic containers on the ground listening to the drip, drip, drip
Give me lungs of the wind and the… Give me blood of the torrent and… Give me five stupid question witho… Give me gifts of compassion and f… I’ll give the breath from these lu…