Mark Heathcote
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My stories
Over new; greens seas drip-fed
The poet is a lonely, snail… With elongated eyes espy. Following a spiritual brail… Questioning: what’s a wry? What; lucidity nears him by. A non-apologetic; dreamer…
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- 458 reads
Checkmate!
I’ve pride in the work I’ve done and will do… But who are you? Too take that away, from me. Your knights might… Encroach upon the field of play. But my king rules over me
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- 371 reads
The Blackbird’s startled wing…
“Words come down, outer space Mop my brow, dust these books Upon the mantelpiece Ignite the candle, long since Flickered perpetual light Before it’s time to say goodnight!
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- 734 reads
The physical scent of life has gone…
Where; did all the wood garlic—go? Sure it must have been dispensed. By the ice, and snow, 2 yrs.’ ago 2010 / 2011 now never; seen again. I ask myself will it ever recover…
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- 821 reads
Stillness is not, acceptable!
Stillness is not, acceptable. Like an incense burning candle It needs a purple vicious night It needs a vacuous, Veracious, blowing breeze It needs a lotus blushing Pink and diamond white!
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- 594 reads