The mysterious ‘presence’ syndrome
Demons on the move...

A wisp of mist, like smoke rising from the virgin...
Dawn and me on the move...

I am a man
A victim...

Step out from behind the many masks
that you believe are your protection...

The threads that bind
Inspection to the present...

asleep at dawn? you just missed the best
the world has brushed its teeth...

Intersecting past and future, ‘is now’!
You need to learn the art of self-discovery...

I take to my pen as weird thoughts fly about
Politics a game of thrones...

Under the mantle of a star filled African night
I listen to the wind in that majestic setting...

The old man is standing,
Why? the bus does not stop here...

God means different things to different people
You cannot run away from that one...

This write brings me back to full circle
No closer to anything other than conjecture...