Archive

Peot

There is no time like the present

No time to call me the better man

I love you all but still you sin

You smoke like Dirk but hold your fin

Like an animal

You do not win

In absence of glory you do not tell

The winner is evil the sky the begin

Of pleasure inperilled

The arc of bin laden

Does not finish here

But there where you win

The aimless start of war can be

The anywhere else for you do not begin

The end does start to make it sin

You do not know where I cannot simply

Open your eyes to the title track

Of the lp

I love to play

10 to 1

Is not the time

It opens doors

Where love begins

I di not know where you

Cannot sin

Begin the where

When no one sins

Where your difference on the brow

And hold your crooked man

On the sow

Soo-ee, soo-ee

I love you more

Than pigs do in your final hour

Do not know me when

You power

I know you not

And love you nire.

Pyre is work I do not pleasance

Take the bow

The corner presence

Is open now

I cannot hold

You again.

Bcdfn.

Copyright Bruce E Saunders 2020

Ember of my smile

Why do you perform so willingly in public

Is it because like me you lack the restraint

Of coming arms and legs and hairy things to stop you

Like police cars.  Is it.  I wonder

What the dishevelled look on your face says now

That you read this and

Say, Hey!  I want to be a Roachford Speciale.

Copyright 2016 Bruce E Saunders

The newest type of orthogonal set to come out of the mathematics department at Wits is to delve deep in the legacy of wits to see if it is school for thought or if it is school for mention in history as having a distorted view of life since it became free.

It is not going to be easy to say this but I believe it is of true noteworthy experience to see that it is dangerous to the rest of the world for its history of being repressed and so should it be a closed institution until it should be better assuaged for its beginnings as a slave institution.  It is a note worth making it to see the whole value of the system and not just the fruit of it they say and so it should be that the whole of the influence of its fat graduates should be seen as a whole influence on a generation who feel it is okay now to be a little racist occasionally as it shows they are the people who live and work there and not the rest of us who sit and look on.

It is a real thing this get together of minds that lets us get the whole meal and not just the strength of it – to be able to get the whole nourishment from our experience at Wits means to be able to take it into hand and think about it as a whole thing – how it influenced our way of doing things and how it makes us feel it is the end of the time for a real one and the start of a time for a real one-two – i.e. marching orders are about to be launched as they seek to make me aware of the need for more from us.

It shames us to see and feel that it is the same place as it was of old, namely a shapeless entity that does not care for its student population with any feel for it.  i.e. it does not know when to start to try and bridge the gap between wealth and poor – it needs only to find the one who can – and that is/was me until a recent time when they all gave up on my return as a spokesman for the union there.  It shall be a saint that gets in and gets them free and it shall not be me but another kind of man/woman, a black one who shall make it clear to all and sundry that I yes I have not been remiss but have been assurre or assuaged of my ideal of being the king of the parliament of England yet again.  I shall not be.

Copyright 2016 Bruce E Saunders

The clink of golf clubs slung in the car

The smell of green grass freshly mown

The heave of the sigh of the amateur golfer fending his way

The heal of the hole being under the clay.

These are the things I remember my Dad by

They make me sing for the days of yore when

I could afford a few pence to play a bit of ball

But no more for I am without and that is where

The sin sets in.

To admit one is short is a cardinal immortal sin to be alone

Is another.

To be both and admit it is the end.

Is it failure not to be as my dad was been? To

Feel the end is here without a son or daughter to send

Unto the abyss of time ahead…?

Copyright 2016 Bruce E Saunders