Amos Greig

Steel capped icebergs' pierce the sky.
In artificial towers
Rapunzels refused to let down their hair,
Satisfied to watch the tired and hungry
...

Sheltered field of pleasant green
The susurrus of distant wind,

Nature gossips
Protests at intrusion,
...

Faceless streets close in around, as corridors seem to stretch into infinity,
A burst of adrenaline and the heart seems to beat irregularly a small bird
Desperate to escape the cage. The flight of logic begins as images blur into
Chaotic thoughts.-
...

Urban concrete jungle
In the twilight hours
This is where the lost boys are.
...

Scaraveen,
Changing weather
That is the best description of Irish weather.
...

Blood dripped onto the green grass
He turned to his followers
"Tie me to the standing stone"
He commanded
...

He was different from me and yet the same,
We had both come to this place of healing
Because of the pain our homelands had suffered.

Communication was difficult
...

Generation Y should I?
clones following the latest
footballers hairstyle
children with pierced
...

Bronze Age shelter slowly eroded by the careless
Impersonal presence of sheep and cattle,
Ironically being repurposed for original
Role.
...

In late summer your family disrupted the roads
Brought traffic to a standstill,
A line,
Mother and children blocked the way.
...

It begins almost motherly,
a return to the warmth of the womb,
a central point on the journey to oblivion,
time travel is a lie an uncaring trick of time.
...

Twilight the even' flight,
Soars,
Dives,
Flows,
...

I have always enjoyed the smell.
of burnt peat, sometimes I would
languish in the smoke wreathed chambers.

For my Irish ancestry peat,
...

Social cohesion was our dream,
we the gardeners and cultivators of tomorrow,
watched in sadness as rot set in,
turned our hopes into bitter memories.
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Your dark birth has long been prophesied,
My dark parasite needed yet twisted
Far beyond your original purpose.
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Quicken muse, your words
Can spark an amber fire:
Defender of the past
Vanguard of futures
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I see the hidden spheres which over lap our own,
not all of the time but there are moments,
of crystal clarity/
in the rain/
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Smoke etched shadows
Crowded the halls
The night you were assaulted,
Dressed differently a bright flamingo target.
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The world turned...
I see chest of drawers, wardrobes, tv, painted models dusty abandoned, bandana's The Ladder plays softly mingles with distant dogs barking and window framed birds chirping.
My world turned...
I see old scripts discarded sketches that never existed a pile of art pads, note books, models, pencils, paints an assortment of artistic implements.
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Onyx waters lapped pebbled shore,
Lonely candles hold total darkness at bay,
In distance town lights beckon like lonely Wisp's.
...