Dave Dunn Biography

War, war, war
What is it all for
Does it bring happiness
Does it bring joy
...

I awoke to silhouettes of images long suppressed
Those which rose from their internment within grey depths
Flickered with hesitance as from draft blown oil lamps
Wound round with broken elements of sad irrelevance
...

Don't ever think that you could be naive,
just because violent deaths make you grieve,
for the choice to kill is itself an unwordly act,
beheading party goers is abhorrent, that's a fact
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Like Dreamers Do

My pillows are so crumpled
My bed in such a mess
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A Winter Coat

All the tall trees wept
Their leaves upon the ground
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