Runic J Spedding

Thunder storms and lightning strikes,
Friday Big Brother eviction night.
Ancient rituals within moonlit forests,
Mexican food from a shiny white van.
Farscape adventures,
Super glued dentures.
Egyptian Arabic,
Battery powered robot.
Runes caved with a dremel,
Plastic bags full of Yopo.
Golden Virginia and Golden suntan,
Witches flying ointment and Datura stare.
How to get what you want,
The Triumph of Painting.
Bic biro,
Long Forgotten giro.
Siberian drum made in Bacup,
Slow workshop take up.
A chance not missed:
Thaumaturgist.

Up and down the Far away tree, in and out of the rabbit hole, eyes open eyes shut, the sounds of rubber upon tarmac and the lime stained gourds of the Kogi; I Thaumaturgise.

When I was younger I used to think that I had been born 1500 hundred years too late, that the time of my ancestors had given me up to the confusion of Twentieth Century living, as I grow older I realise that time itself is of no consequence. For both myself and my ancestors there has only ever been the ever present moment and that within this moment all that has been, is and might be, exists as one. The only defining line is the one that we create for ourselves in our constant attempt of trying to make some sens...