Diagnose

All this bubbling inside my veins.
Feels like angels spitting in my brain.
A feverish swoon overtakes me now.
The silent prayer and misplaced vow.
That swirl and flick of the finger of god.
Dilutes this blood to something odd.
More like a lick from roaming devils.
Who cough and sniff, and silently revel.
This outbreak which defies prognoses.
And nudges for spiritual diagnoses.
For though my body and mind is sick.
Inside the soul this illness licks.
And leaves me now mere bread and wine.
My soul and spirit, drenched in turpentine.

Gospel of no-one

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Your own personal bible, offering a glimpse into worlds you will never normally see. Words struck down, not by God, but by those souls who visited St. Sebastian’s church and who dissected their own sacred hearts for you.

Hidden under the base of a statue of Mother Mary, the current pastor of St. Sebastian’s church discovers a small tightly bound book, the contents of which explain the demise of the previous Father, Father Nikolas and the confessions of those who frequented the church throughout his time there. A journey through pain, doubt and forgiveness; the book opens the eyes and hearts and asks everyone for their own confessions.

‘The Gospel of no one’ is a hybrid novel mixing fiction and poetry, orbiting religious imagery and spirituality. Hope, mixed with the horror of being only human.

Just a reminder that The Gospel of no-one is out now in eBook and Paperback. If you’ve purchased it already, thank you; but don’t forget to review and tell a disciple. Comments or questions; please sound off below. Enjoy. For more books, check out the books section

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Crash

Rain on the highway. The black sea smeared ahead of us.
Running on empty and water in the fuel.
You push me, then shiver over my spirit.
Taking me higher, sweet ecstatic clouds of chaos.
Pulling me under, pushing me forward.
Pushing.
Your hand gripping the bed as I shudder into our future.
Raining out our destiny.
Plotting our destination.
Getting lost and hopeful. Wondering and wandering in euphoric bursts.
You call me down, and buckle me in.
Pulling tight enough to know I’m safe, yet free to leave.
And then we kiss, and all fades to red. The back lights in my head.
Petrol fumes and heroin in my heart.
Pedal to the metal, shortcut to my soul.
I close my eyes and grip for your hand. Finding nothing but air and a gaping car door.
The mouth to misery and my own destruction.
As I headlong into my crash and burn.