The sharp edge of a filoplume quill

The sharp edge of a filoplume quill

Slits the air and penetrates backward bent light;

Conjoining minstrel and several muses

Into everlasting words,

As Chaos safeguards them within tainted wings of night.

Behrime

Behrime underneath sepulchred  souls, I want to shackle carnivore me;

Flick the words with the tip of my quill of twilight.

I excoriate decayed love with flaming ogle...

Grilling on lusty teeth your satin flesh is still exquisite and prohibited,

Mortify the thirst of a wicked minstrel with sweet nectar of your blood...

Now, graciously atone yourself for I sin with thy waxy bones!

The Sussex Attitude 101: Barking Balsam

Somewhen not long ago

Barking balsam bout bait ballet

Brocks barca brish are puffing at the brich tree

Magico lists mouldering balderdash

Long-dogs pent the appleterre

Whist waygoer trape Eros’s vady corpse

For on birds wedding-day bitter my soul

Yourn vampiric kisses were.

Sussex Tautogram

Amost agwain a-bed…

Allus anigh!

Amakin abroad,

Anywhen, atween

Adry almeries…

Altsinit anewst.

Lá Fhéile Pádraig

Seo! Ar dheis anseo! Is é seo an dheireadh an tuar ceatha.

Ach mé fuair aon meirgeach ór

Chun taint an croi

Anseo luíonn an scairdeán de íon pléisúir…

É a roinnt agus grá sé isteach ar síoraí chuimhneacháin

Anseo, ar a dheireadh an tuar ceatha, a bheith ar an milse neachtar,

Ghlaonn tú é “dom an t-ádh charms”, tugaimid sé mé Guinness.

Éirinn go Brách!