Plea For Love

There is a fundamental connection with the Art in conversation, that prose writing seamlessley replicates, but allows one to shine as they rarely can extemporised, and allow us the privelage of being a tool of art in language. The gods Ogma and a host of global equivelants, all lined up in the myth factory, inspection ready for the poet to draw and create with them as the basic building block of whatever form of writing the Mistress of the Universe order one does as her willing thrall.

MUTU for large Art guerilla graffiti happenings and raids for the greater good of beauty; each of us an artist in the Love collective, seeking only to further the human cause of full and unfettered freedom to love in a polyamorous civilisation, where nudist and all other misunderstood and victimised communites within the wider pan galactic Love umbrella, can wander freely naked, shop, spend and interact in the concert and quotidain theatre of their lives, without the fear of discrimination and prejudice befalling them as they go about their business within the society we envisage.

One in which the Love parties collective of indivdual bores and lonely hearts on the web-net-dump, will hereby be requested to vote for at the forthcoming election, which will be fought by two warring forces.

One for a greater unity and understanding of compassion and Love, the other in opposition to this force for demonstrable good, and it is my duty today to voice my support for the former of these, for i am the third cousin removed by matrilineal marriage; to a poet of the finest oratory skill. A close relative and dearly missed man of transparent goodnes.

And what i suggest to you here today in my capacity of cuhullain's phoenix

i arise today by the strength of heaven
Stability itself above in accordance with
the wishes of fitzgeraldean francis
Man for love and the crisis cracked
knowing one and poet, swiftness of mind
Tongue talked a natural know and knack...