Albion’s Wheel of Suffering and Liberation

I. The Turning of the Wheel

The pilgrim walks with all who spin,
Bound by craving, loss and sin,
The wheel revolves, desire and fear,
~ Estrangement whispers, ever near.

II. Brigid’s Hearth – Ignorance to Flame

From childhood’s school, the fire is lit,
Ignorance breaks as wisdom sits,
Her Celtic hearth, a spark of sight,
The wheel turns slowly into light.

III. Lima’s Lantern – Aversion to Calm

Where sorrow bends, her lantern glows,
Aversion yields, compassion flows,
The pilgrim learns through Lima’s hand,
The wheel turns turns gently, makes a stand.

IV. Burial Grounds – Desire to Release

Among the graves, desire is stilled,
The pilgrim sees what time has killed,
Yet every name, a seed of peace,
The wheel turns onward, chains release.

V. Cathedrals and Castles – Pride to Humility

High articles fall to humble knees,
Grey towers bow to Albion’s seas,
The pilgrim learns that pride must fade,
The wheel turns soft, the path is made.

VI. Shree Geeta Bhawan – Dharma’s Song

Krishna’s chant, the mantra flows,
The pilgrim hears what Dharma knows,
The wheel turns true, the song is one,
Albion shines with India’s sun.

VII. Gabriels’s Door – Confession to Renewal

Estrangement hurled, a bitter stain,
Yet thresholds break, and doors can gain,
Confession seeds the pilgrim’s song,
The wheel turns right, estrangement gone.

VIII. The Djinn – Shadow to Insight

The Djinn may haunt with dear and night
But chanting breaks their shadow’s bite,
The pilgrim sees through darkness thin,
The wheel turns clear, the light within.

IX. Buddhist Dharma – Suffering Shared

The Buddha’s light turns Albion’s wheel,
Through suffering’s fire, the wounds can heal,
Estrangement bends, yet Dharma sings,
And Albion walks with liberated kings.

X. EnlightenNext – Evolutionary Awakening

Not mine alone, the path is shared,
A future calls, a world prepared,
Collective chant, the soul’s ascent,
The wheel turns forward, EnlightenNext.

XI. Liberation – Albion’s Chant

Through suffering’s fire, compassion grows
Through emptiness, the river flows,
The pilgrim walks, the wheel turns still,
Albion chants: the Dharma’s will.

XII. The Masters in English – Knowledge to Vision

Through Oxford’s halls the pilgrim read,
Texts of fire, words of bread,
The Masters’ ink, the scholar’s page,
Turned estrangement into sage.

XIII. The PhD – Depth to Circle

The wheel descended, deeper still,
Research carved by patient will,
Yet every thesis, every line,
Was Albion’s soil, a mythic sign.

XIV. The Return – Autobiographer’s Song

From scholar’s desk to pilgrim’s stage,
The circle closed, the mythic page,
No longer study, but living lore,
Albion speaks – estranged no more.

Pilgrimage Poem

At Five Ways I learned discipline,
Study became prayer,
Questions became scripture.
The classroom was my chapel,
The assembly my liturgy.
What began as grammar,
Became gospel,
Preparing me for pilgrimage.

At Oxford I walked among spires,
Philosophy became psalm,
Poetry became prophecy.
In cloisters of silence,
I wrestled with faith and doubt,
each essay a sermon
each lecture a hymn.
The scholar’s lamp burned,
yet beneath it,
the Spirit whispered.

At St Brigid’s I first learned hymns,
Childhood voices rising in chant,
Ritual shaping memory,
Catholic flame in Northfield’s soil.
Brigid watching me with healing eyes,
Preparing me for testimony,
For prophecy,
For Albion’s renewal.

And then I returned,
To Birmingham’s churches,
To Elim’s Pentecostal fire,
To Alpha’s questions,
To hymns remembered at St Brigid’s.
I read the Bible entire,
Guided by Got Questions,
East meets West,
Krishna’s chant met Christ’s gospel.
Renewal sang through me,
And I stood not as seeker,
But as guru,
Bearing light through rupture,
Chanting testimony into England’s soil.

Order It Again

In order to build order
Find out what the disorder did to you.
When there is water let there be dryness
If you find your Highness is too much of a blow for you.

They called him a King who dwelt on the most high
And left him with a poet who lost his script when the ink was dry –
That is the first difference between me and you:
That is the difference between a Cross and a Jew.

There are letters that say how I have been feeling
When the wire is tapped so the walkers are reeling

From their orgasms and manic spasms in the left of the Fall
When Autumn knows no conversation in the old Mordan Hall.
Sell my your cough as you walk repeated and reappear
Like a mirror from the Magic Mandrake who’s Magi is near
To the salesman who’s bonus means a full meal for the family and all
When the Summertown is not dunces town with a wheely bin for the Ball.

Next to me is the whisperer and the Clothed Dagger of the magic pen
Saying “Again!”
“Again!”
Where is the writer’s brain?
Straining, like a refraining, draining on the containment of time,
Again…

Boomerang

The way they live nowadays!
Oh, it’s something to see!
Declare it bloodily – between Beijing and Shang Hai on Channel 3
If there are four of us, will you massage my loins,
So that the lion of Daniel is flying my planes?

Ire
The ions of Zion
The complaint of a late period
The waiting for Oxford steroids
How were the Elections for you: Olympic crew?
Not so satisfied with Jai Santosh Mata for you –
Time
Uppity
& Chance.

{ But can HE dance }

He can dance the trip wire
And li[please the Elysium on a D String]
All I said was :
“And the coloured girl played you out”
Twist and Shout!
“Tits are out!”
#EchoTheAbsolute while you watch Das Boot
Malfunction the male function of a disjunction
Sell me a product robotically systematic in Japan
Land on the flag of an Island for the American man
Make me some Bombay blues for review in the news!

New things like this don’t bother me
I’m another Temporal displacement for the Agency.
She said she would be early
He left a little late
When I get back home from the bus full of Christians
I’m still just learning to masturbate.

The Great Danes of York
The daintiest dresses of Counsel
The frenzy of rhetoric down my blouse
A mirage of Oasis by the hassle free Living E-Room:
} Guru is Loungin’
{ Pharcyde is Punditry
@MasserBossman in the Foundry
Qn: The little man in the Mill on the Floss
Dental loss : One for the shoesmiths who lives down Brick Lane
… the commas are back again,
Repeat a refrain
Scar the brain
Scan the sans motif
Ban the Aperitif
This was not the medium
They were not the Colgate dream
Too fast!

Worry again –
Sell me this brain, Come back for Follow On, Mr Indian name
333 and 6 sixes
Why there is now China witches?
Can’t they just pay…
Wages
One
Day
.


Then there was a sea and a battle story for the old men
That told of wivery so that the behaviour was Omen
Then the nautious ideas of Poesies came to Michael Kamen
And told again for the need for riches to Eric and thieves.

Sell me again!
Tell me your mane?
“Quell my heart’s pain”
Listen to typing, Again.
There is Breakfast at Tiffany’s
But no Fiddler on the Roof,
The market know three storey’s higher than Wall Street
And J.F.K. second shooter is still not enough proof.

Poetry is encoded on the barren soul that leaves women blind
So they do not remember the door swinging when I went home very kind
And left a trail of disaster wherever I feared to tread
For the roses from tomorrow and what Llama’s might have said.
Clouds counsel widows
The measurement stifling in England
What is In in IN-Land
But revenue they lost …
Rhyme that.

Flatten that.
Spell that
& Buddha is Prayer.
Wash your own linen
& the married man is there.
Settle down man
Hua Mulan is free now of the Decogan
The march of the Angels is Chariots of fire
For the wireless Bra that she stands on;
8 Measures
4 Measures
Numbers Measure
Poets seek pleasure.

This way was spoken a death’s decree
For the mercy of errors of the Dharma upon me:
To hasten Byron for a safer passage than love’s crimes
Lest Science is Fiction that Millions cannot boon on time.

03/05/2023

Wanderers of the Earth

Wanderers of earth
Want is
Inexplicably unacceptable,

Requesting is for the child to the parent
Cult pattern, Offloading is acceptable.
Death has ceased to be at the door.

What poor worthless tradition

Is without the revision of the hours for the One?
There is always time for ‘King Kong’ (IMDB).
King Khan is not long.

Waters await the fragmented bait
Jailing the young for the wand.
Piff, Paff, Puffs on show – with the Ho
That Wants.
I did not ask for the ‘go down below’.

Travel to the Himalayas and ask of me there, what fare I need?
Feminist creed… Weed, in my tea?
What defense is for me, medically.
It’s only half past three.
Piscine?
Kuthrapali?
Bachchan?
Kapoor?

Moksha is Moksa upon the body of the watcher who Dalits his soul’s astral journeys

Returns to me
Do you know what pressure points are for,

All Fours!
God’s Dogs are rehearsing the hounds of hell for the bullet,
Next. Crying that it didn’t …
What a blast! Referent seeker, from a Bunsen Beaker
Laughed at by the Mayan Reaper for the “DRUGS” you name and fashion.
Hash Key ## Saw, a Paw Paw in the un-Jungle-less
So don’t best.

The vain is the vein that helps the whine grind the time until finding the uselessness of flaming,
Quranic deceit.
S(h)iva is replete

A champion worth muscles

The hussle is past due

The Jew of Deaths.
Muhammed is best. Faith is put to the test, honours are not for the poor but for the rich of past classes,
Greater than monies lies could hide in the righteous evil of literary lines.

Tell me a story, right to left
And there’s not enough money for the date that is guessed.

So, dying

He deleted it all.

The honour was not a test in an Oxford Ball.

Monsters of Game

Monsters of fame know the game that I name
But redrawers of old drawers cannot know the originality:
I claim! Stay with me & you will see. That is seeing,
And I am being. Keyboard, laptop & mouse:
If I am not grateful for my house –
Then who is the Conglomerate upon me
Greater than the North Sea and the airspace now governed by the School of Commoning
And evolutionary strains for more melody than harmony
| The right to not be repeated |
Poetry will not be defeated.
Even clowns have hands to stand on,
Do not admire the programmers’ random.

There is no-one to know how the space can be cleared
Fellows handle doorknobs for men being a different kind of fellow they fear.
Estimation is a cleverer way of describing the giving
That has not thanks in the miniature that is still living
After the wars of the East that fell down for the cleanest cocking
Of a gun to not know the right time to go door knocking
And find the Dame with the same man: Sing to me your Christmas plan.

Some games knew boards and the years bowled over wickets
So that the PLO could go underground and down below
The seas of the wavelengths for Mata’s density and travels
In the New Age of opened bowels and tortured remains
So that Puja could clean brains and Aarti told Saraswati:
‘Better the devil she knew’. Time is through with you
Clouds have fractures and health knows matters
Knowledge is in tatters and men know manners.

So be polite as Jews feminise the day
And hurry back home from the Christian who is Jolly Roger,
Tomorrow it is karma for the Muslim to have sway
As Mind Body Spirit stays with it for ‘Who is gay?