The kelp, plankton, and krill,
which once thrived, my beasts to fill,
are failing through an ailing I can’t see.

And I’m unwell myself,
for the continental shelf
spills dread infection continuously.

I suspect creatures dry
have dared nature to defy,
taken much for granted their right to be.

For rocks moan of an ache,
and I hope for all our sakes
that these humans can cure our frailty.

But they I fear – insane –
forget I feed all their rain,
and for a vital world, need healthy me.

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Myths are born from humans using relatively little information and weaving it into a story which keeps fear at bay, or at least to manageable proportions – to make us feel as if we have a significant impact on the outcome of our existence.

Scientists explain that primitive religions began thus, with sacrifices and the creation of gods who – though powerful to control the elements – could be influenced or mollified through sacrifices and worship. These beliefs were bolstered by the confluence of desires and occurrences which, from the perspective of the scientist, were manipulated by the power-hungry to represent cause and effect.

And yet atheist scientists do not see that – with relatively little information on a cosmic scale – they have created but another story of creation which they were content to call a theory for a while, but now insist to be the only reality … even though it contradicts their own rubric of empiricism.

After about a quarter century of denial while we warmed ourselves around the fire of the First Industrial Revolution, we begin to realize that we a ecological and environmental primitives compared to Neanderthal – the species we eclipsed and probably murdered – and that the blaze of technology burns out of control, fed by the wrong fuel – greed and hydrocarbons.

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Absorb the wild and the wonderful – my contribution being a bit of both and then some, with a swipe at literary regurgitation – Best’s Cellar

Steam Powered Dream Machines

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Who am I mosaic

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My short story Lucky Escape for Goldilocks Girl appears in this fantastic Steam punk collection. I think you will love the experience. Go on, give it a quick read.

Under a Brass Moon

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When will the EU stick-in-the-muds pull their heads up from their conference wit the phantasmagorical ostriches and concentrate less on STATOGANDA and more on how to make Brexit work to their advantage either side of the referendum?

Ever hear of he best of both worlds?

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Tinted Memory of Argus by Perry McDaid

An acrylic of a favourite playground of my youth through rose-tinted glasses.

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