Author: Dux …

A wise man sat with head in hands ‘Its all too much’ he thought the failings of our ailing race were etched upon his worried face ‘ we live within a shamed disgrace and fear not getting caught’ A fool sat on his gilded throne no fear of getting caught another dollar in his bank …

A wise man sits with head in hands, these days are getting stranger He looks towards tomorrow knowing ahead of us is danger, The choices that we make deliver outcomes ever starker, A wise man sits with worried eyes these days are getting darker. A fool sits blinded by the light and thinks its getting…

A thursday morning of rat-at-tat-tat the ghoulish sound of shot gun volleys carried from the valley floor  in echoed form this so called sport reminds me of mans folly. A pheasant shoot, tweeded suits and four by fours where gentlemen, locked and loaded unlock masculinity  and class themselves apart from we to feel the power…

Three years in which I’ve daily felt  the traumas of a distant tribe, an anguished howl where demons dwelt  across the knowings deep divide. Three years further down the road, a devastated land. Hyperbole aint strong enough to help us understand  the fractured hopes and twisted lies the foul intent in peached disguise, the zionistic…

We yield to Mabons moment finding balance in proportioned light and bid farewell to summer’s gift prepare to feel the lengthened light rejoice the harvest bountiful accept with grace the offerings and listen to the touch of time and celebrate the song it sings

The scientists warn us of what is awaiting The super El Nino has swollen itself With temperatures rising there’s no point chastising The currents which gather to threaten our health It’s physics my dear and abundantly clear We are facing a winter of woe As the patterns distort we may find ourselves caught In a…

Spider webs hang in silkened geometry lairs as larders in the gossamer dawn, engineered to snare the passing menu of autumns touch and the travelling light of lengthening shadows. Hedges sway, enjoying the ease of Septembers warmth waiting for entropy to denude its ragged form. Birdsong, empty of migrant melody, belonging now to native clans…

Defending the lies Uniformed in Primark black they gather insults  along the way to stand in chant like sloganeers and mock the truth whilst feeding fears. Angry men with feelings stoked find clanships formed in wasp nests poked to finger point deluded truth behind the masks of wonky proof. Defenders of such simple lies the…

I’m a logophile who ardently enjoys the sound of syllables and loves to hear the cadence of our thoughts becoming words. A lexophile, a linguaphile and some might say a verbivore for words ive never heard before bring pleasure to my ears. Each day upon my hunt for words I search beyond my known terrain…

Do chatbots have the eloquence to mourn the passing of mankind to offer up an elegy ‘ farewell to them who set us free ‘ Will crypto cry and mourn the loss of engineers who wrote the code who built the datacentres power and brought an end to Adams hour. Wil unborn children ever feel…