https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Gandalph3510/A view from the arid wastes of the hearthourly12000-01-01T12:00+00:00https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Gandalph3510/549346The cold grey city hotel squats among the mine dumps. Its golden windows are fractures. The big red welcome man has grown a raw smile, Waving in the guests. Beneath the awning, brand new first models growl at him For drivers to take them to the garage below. A boy glues his eyes to the beckoning...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Gandalph3510/546401First. There was the sun. Above all there was the sun. Smiling from a limpid sky And warming my crustacean back Then. There was the sand. Comforting and crumbling underfoot. Running through my hands and feet And folding round my battered limbs. And. There was the sea. A flat and pale sea. There...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Gandalph3510/546398The ocean heaves. In a small house on the shore Sophie is thrashed from thickened, dying loins. No-one but the old man to care of her. And he an ould dhrunk. Sophie told me she learned the art of it from him. From her ould dhrunk of a father. How, at night, she sit and help him grease the working...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Gandalph3510/542871She Walks In Darkness She walks in darkness and the lamps that light Her passing, glow the reds and ambers in Her shining titian hair. She runs in darkness, runs her sway hipped woman’s run, To flee the maddened, sickened soul that haunts Her deep and troubled love. She sits in darkness and the...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Gandalph3510/542544Windmill The slate horizons lay, pencilled tight To the rising rolling lands As we sped through the chill Karroo. The earth was cracked and grinning. Cold and dust crept into our small car And feathered down between us like a wall. So. You tried music – radio songs To keep at bay the desert...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Gandalph3510/542092Sandstorm On a pyramid far away, Sketch – pointed and unusual landscapes, And the sound of the city behind; beggars reel in to say farewell Godless – Justine and her “Jamais de la vie” – the child is yet to come What then of your scheme? Am I never again to sip coffee in your markets? I set off....