This family of fishermen
Fishing for fifty years
It’s all in the bones, you know
Feeding off freshwater
Interacting with anglers
The day progresses
And a cold beauty
Etched in the ripples
Of this river running rapid
Meandering slow and clear
This tree shelters me
Swans slice through the water
Watched by the willows
Waiting on the sloping bank
Isn’t it time we drew a veil over all this? (*Wince*) For the last two weeks I have had to sit on my hands, to lock myself in my own flat, to place an armed guard at the foot of my bed so I won’t go out and buy myself a Goddamn veil. Not because I have suddently turned to Islam but because the ‘Veil’ issue is not only a religious issue, it is also a feminist issue. No man has the right to tell women what they cannot wear. The veil acts as a way of separating the wearer from the society in which he exists. Well, whoop-dee-doo. I separate myself on a daily basis from the society in which I am forced to live – Ipod, sunglasses, hats, my front door. And guess what? I like it. I don’t need to be ‘liberated’. But it would be nice if, just occasionally, someone would make an attempt.
But then maybe I’m not as important as those ‘Veiled’ women.
This is a test post from 
, a fancy photo sharing thing.
I am detached and I drive alone
The twilight highway glitters ahead
On the tail of the serpent, who.
In turn shadows the snake-charmer
At the helm of this realm, he seeks
We seek out the almighty.
Just one more mile, I whisper,
Before I fade gently out of this masquerade
For I was not made for one God and feigned
Commitment will not save me. This was all
Just an impulse of mine for it is in limbo,
Not in heaven, that I discover the divine
So Sick of Drowning 