Bunce Island, Sierra Leone - deserted slave fort island. Visited by sailing dinghy '78
I don't belittle slavery here, its how I felt at the time:)
As most will know, Kunta Kinte is from the book 'Roots' which I read in '77.
‘Life is Love and Love is all Cr… Words of more than lyric consolati… The heart lies in the place of min… Building worlds of singular invent…
Compliments to the baker and so too my Barista Smoothest crema on the tongue juxtapose to lemon vapour. Intense acute sensations
As a company of poets, I trust upon your empathy. This lyric passion that we share has led me to epiphany. Of worldly craft I am bereft,
To yearn for love is not a rarity but every man’s inevitability; craving satisfaction for our unbroken hearts - affirmation of existence
The ancient seers knew the score in granite etched on Dolmen door with Spiral glyph and centred dot, such subtle pictographic plot. Tho’ cyclic emanations flow
I like to think I’m quite a spark a wise and clever man I can name the elements or kings of old Siam but sitting in my techno-cave
You’ll cheer for the thief on stag… Root for the urchin and crook. Believing yourself of judgement mo… Why throw that aside with the book… What of the chav; 'have not’ to yo…
Sativa, queen of spiral code her genome holds a key, that turns the cogs within my mind once stuck, now running free. She sparkles in the Autumn sun
If I was an Afghan, whatever would I do? Bullets flying everywhere I wouldn’t have a clue! -
One land - many maps each map - many roads every road - two directions
'We’ the west can be so proud of o… where everyone can take a vote for… We’ll fund the freedom seekers who… and understand they must rise up t… We’ll help them when they turn for…
One land - many maps each map - many roads every road - two directions One God - many faiths each faith - many sects
The Atheist scoffs at talk of God and finds me rather odd! “We came from Nothing - Heading for Nowhere” “Nothing to Nothing -
A flight of fancy to mystical land in Arjun’ chariot I crossed Ram’s… to that cinnamon isle of gold-grai… —tear of Mahabharata On a palm-trellised beach I held…
I followed an English rose to the gates of the Sahel - I thought I knew I loved her; I… young and couldn’t tell. ......all so long ago now, I don’t