Into The Great Unknown, September, 2024



Mankind and

Civilizations really

Don’t mix

They have tried

It over & over

Now all dead

Or now all shit

And so here we go again

Into the great unknown


To bring your lunch

And your soul





Nuclear Rustic


In my father’s backyard

There is the evidence,

The remains

Scattered where a 1000 soldiers &

Old cars lay, rest and lie

Buried beneath the clay,

The dirt

The earth

Without a memory

And without a single headstone

To find their unmarked graves

For you see

It was much easier,

Much simpler

Back then

In those days

So many memories

To forget or to

Throw away

So many parts & pieces accidently

Lost in the nostalgia

That is time.

All the soldiers now long

Forgotten and nameless

Who must have died

In some senseless and

Childish war. A battle where

The enemy remains unremembered

And unknown and there were

No survivors or victors left

Save one

And so as I dig with my shovel and

Move the heavy stones I

Become the historian and

The aging archeologist

With an old back and sore knees

Who no longer commands faceless souls

Into war or who gives orders in the fields

Of suburbia where the civilian cars

And trucks all mysteriously disappeared

And slowly sank

Into the mud. Where once

There was no true

Concept of a heaven, a hell

Or death

And off in the distance?

I listen but

Can hear no battle cries

No bombs exploding

But suddenly, as I come across

And old tin box I open it

And can see and hear

Maybe three or four dogs

Barking and wagging their tails

And a smiling,

Laughing child playing

Among them

A child

Who never understood why

But who buried all his dreams

Somehow knowing that one day

He would return again

Back to this place,

Back to his

 Father’s backyard to

Find them all

And bring them

Back to life


II . The Broken Hymn

The Broken Hymn


In praise we must celebrate


Of the dead leaves

The cold air

The fallen oak


Who have passed

From this world and into

The next

The next poem, the next

Season the next affair

Who lay down upon the

Memories of old lovers

And lost friends

Who hear the voices

Of evening’s memory

In broken silences

In broken hymns

Who disappear into the

Darkest night and

Never return



I. Of Memories And Days Past … Wisdom & Truth

The Journal of 2046



When I was a child I asked my Grandfather too many questions

Mostly about life.

And one day, I asked him a very strange question and I said;


After the world is gone

After all the towers, all the cities

All the buildings have fallen

Do you think there will be any of us

Anyone any -thing left?

My Grandfather, looking a bit bemused,

Took another smoke from his pipe

Exhaled and then quietly said


There will always be 3 things left

And they have always remained the same




And of course,

There will always be





Is still


The words

Are still