…European history is littered with the blood of martyrs, saints and the common man killed in the name of untouchable conceits, beliefs, money, freedom and more than anything else the land that no-one owns.
A couple of years ago I suffered a bereavement. I was twisted up driving around going through my own personal hell at the time. Last time I saw her she was “recovering” and glowing like lightning. I knew I`d see her again. But I was wrong & this really brought the world down around my feet. A year later I was driving across the empty plains out of my mind when I came across a lonely chapel in what I`ve recently found out was a utopian community set up by a man with vision. Doomed to failure all that remains of this mans great dreams are a set of four empty gravel avenues, and the chapel, lined with sycamore trees. I think there may have been a murder there; a tragedy of some kind. I went into the empty chapel, got down on my knees and began to pray. I wrote this close to that that time and threw it down just now as fast as I could. It`s not a lament but a vision too so I guess we all have a streak of idealism on the road or in searching for hope or dreams…
Who you want to be II
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I know its loose as hell, loose as hell; an improvisation around a textual idea…
