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Discovering the terminal horizon

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  The Terminal Horizon Tourist Bus Discovering the Terminal Horizon The Long Highway Out here, the world ends not in silence, but in fire. The asphalt bleeds into cracked red earth, stretching toward a bruised horizon where the sky refuses to cool. Behind the glass, you drive chasing ghosts through a desert that forgot rain a lifetime ago. Beneath the Scorch Every road leads deeper into the furnace. Even below the surface, the rock fissures and weeps, hot steam rising through subterranean fractures where molten veins pulse in the dark, feeding an ancient, unforgiving heat. Broken Arteries What we built couldn’t hold. Rails twist into the dunes, swallowed by iron sand and wind. Bridges split down the seam, concrete splintered into raw bone, tangled rebar, and dying wires crackling into the smoke. The machines stopped; the wasteland stayed. The Last Horizon And when the road finally runs out, there is only the ash, the petrified stumps, and the quiet. You are a lone figure sitting in...
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Flagstaff Gardens Missing Statues

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This is a matter of inference rather than direct seeing
Seven burials took place here
No evidence that the bodies were exhumed
What potential
If we want to understand it’s time to reinvent

We act as forgeries in the style of what we really want
Only to became redundant due to the introduction of a new technology
Then knowing we have been found out
We lack the  knowledge
Like fallen angles that lack life and emotional play

Taking the historicist position by what we forgot about it
Through the development of scientific knowledge
The colony of identity has been re-established
Normalised aura
To form once again - a unique existence in a particular place in time

This magnificent achievement that time has reshaped
To what is now less good, less beautiful, less awe-inspiring, less interesting
Our memories reliant on reward and monetary gain
Walk on by and think less about it
When none of the original statues exist, it nolonger matters.









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