Dmax Recruitement Call Summer 08

Another mask, anyone?

POEM Our precious soil, betrays our innocence How many more Must perish Souring over our barren land? Undeserving of so precious Blood We are! Of so graceful Creatures ...they adorn our skies and cry their last desperate sorrows for the bigotry of its inhabitants and their bizarre gods of gore and limestone and euro orgies of smoky, petrified incense as they kneel in front of HE whom they claim to adore. How many more Must perish Souring over our barren land? As the exchequer squambles over another excuse With his peers He jokes over how great he is In his infinite wisdom And his children look for A morrow where feathers are Nothing but Exhibits in classroom books Hailing from days gone by... And deep within each soil granule So miniscule, insignificant Lies the blood of them... The souring angels, Up above... Ray de Bono 9th March 2010 He/she who wants to understand, let him/her understand... ...........................................

Moody Days

I Wonder When it is my turn to die, Will I ponder on my days afar? Will I yearn for your arms and cry? When it is my turn to die, Will I despair in a lonely chill? Will I hold your hands in mine? When it is my turn to die, Will I close my eyes and sigh? Will lost loved ones linger on the other side? Ray de Bono 18.07.07

Elusive, lost Love

Play this music whilst reading it… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0HCvyJvqpqY&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Efacebook%2Ecom%2Fpages%2FAttard%2DMalta%2FDmaxtv%2F14281068665%3Fref%3Ds&feature=player_embedded I am happy Thrilled So full of life Yet inept And so bizarre in my fetish muse That dictates my testosterone driven vibe In this chess game In the dark… She left Killed the warmth That engulfed my abyss Setting alight Wrath so hellish …at the Maker’s standalone whims My Useless howling In the wind… Tear drenched eyes Alone, yet in a crowd of pseudo-passion Like flashes In the dark Not even a twinkling candle Just a puff of light Micro seconds Quick-and-go.. Chilled heart In gay hilarity White wine thrash Dripping Lousy mornings… How many more Yet to come? Pathetic pretentious Scribbles of mine… Ray de Bono Monday, July 20, 2009

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