Duplicitous Dangerous Dictatorship Diatribe

Infidels, Kaffirs, Honkies, Wogs, Spics, Chinks, NO IRISH, NO DOGS.
Hate my religion, hate my belief, murder my family then laugh at my grief.
Pakis, Poms, Paddies, Porkheads are Scum.
“They wipe their arse with their hand.” Says your Mum.
“Can’t take a drink. Can’t handle the drugs…” Your Dad says “…they live on a diet of bugs.”
Our parents were lied to every day of their lives to ensure they were ‘good’ husbands and wives,
as we are lied to, only now, without grace, we are lied to right in front of our face.
While the liars live in luxurious mansions, commenting privately about wealth expansions yet publicly announcing how little is around, suddenly another billion is found for a war because of ‘Religious Fanatics’ that is a lie. If you notice this truth you may want to cry.
While innocent children are maimed and killed, the army’s government are being billed, by the leaders of the government involved in each war. Religious intolerance? If it damages profits…what for?


Concentration has gone…

Concentration has gone, fumbling the norm.
Late nights through to early morn, not drugs, not drink, not what you think, just the time and the pain and the essence of dawn is filling the moments between the work and the life.

Keeping the straight laced expression of joy while wildness whistles through this ‘boy’.
Spurts and spouts of excessive delight then being told that my feelings aren’t…right.

Wondering what to do next, scared to stop to answer a text, worried that this might not work well but if I don’t try to change it I’m living in hell.

“Never accept the things you don’t like.”

A quote I made up to help me deal with this life.

“Make life easier for the next person.”

A quote I made up to help me deal with this life.

“There but for the luck of life go I.”

A quote I twisted to help me deal with this life.

Again the thoughts drift, cruise, flutter, land and sink deeper into the cauldron of self-destruction.

Again I breathe.  Suck…blow…suck…hold…blow…suck…hold…blow…

This isn’t what I should be doing but it is.

National Poetry Day Rant

I don’t get it, never have, never will.
Dog in the street day. Don’t get it. Yet, still
It comes around every year, a day like all the rest
except on this day it feels like a test…
Create something new (but with meaning)
Let people know which way you’re leaning
The left are loonies, the right are scum
No, no, the right are loonies, the left are scum
The middle just tum-tiddly-um-tum
I wasted time creating that but it’s okay
because it’s touch yourself gently day
or some such thing that allows you to pleasure
yourself doing something you treasure
releasing pain and hate and bile
sharing love, warmth, a knowing smile
allowing others inside your head
showing them where you lie, your filthy bed
you made yourself with guilt and shame
dirtied with no one else to blame
taking time out to rant and rave about injustice
absolutely refusing to say It. Just. Is.
screaming at the tele
from deep in the belly
It’s okay I know the truth, no one needs further proof.
There is nothing left to deny, there is no need to cry.
The rich are taking all they can from all the people of this land.
Killing the poor and not getting caught because they do it by…default.
A cut here, a boundary there and all that death is out of their hair.
The workers are next by cheek and jowl, by means nefarious and foul.
Taxes first, then higher prices for smaller, smaller then slimmer slices
of a pie they don’t even own. Don’t protest please don’t moan.
Okay if you must but we need to secure your trust
tell us where and when you want to and we’ll treat you like the cunt who
we most despise; (intelligent workers are not dependable) fuck the wise
dumb them down, destroy their mind and one day you’ll find
that I’m alright jack is the norm for anyone in England born
Even though they’ve got no fresh food, no clean water to cleanse their brood
just the junk the Americans gorge on and around their ghetto a Palestinian cordon.
They’re building the wall inside our brain with each click on the media train.
Sorry I drift, I meander, sometimes I stray
but it’s alright, it’s #NationalPoetryDay

Truth Abuse Love

They want me to tell the truth.
They want me to hurl abuse
but I’m sober and guilt-ridden
so I keep my mouth shut, click the link,
auto-fill my details and share the page.

They want me to tell the truth.
They want me to hurl abuse
but I’m tired and I’m scared
so I keep my mouth shut, look away from the jails
and go back to my cage.

I want to tell the truth, I want to hurl abuse
But not at Jews, Muslims, Infidels or Christians
Not at Blacks, Whites or Buddhists.
They don’t deserve my rage.
It’s the greedy leaders, the money lenders, the contract owners
who run this world we sometimes call a stage

that hide all access to the truth
that tell me what is deemed abuse.
They tell me what is naughty, decide if I am being nice,
tell me what my choice is
but I have pen and page.

My truth is that I’m governed
by those who happily abuse
I profit from their violence
enjoy the luxuries made by slaves.

If I tell the truth, if I hurl abuse
it must not be at my equals
but at those who want me in my grave.

Love Addiction

A Mother’s love ignored
A Child’s idea of love destroyed
‘Cos you both know the other’s tough.
A lover’s love shared and diminished.
Virtual love is never quite finished.
The house of cards is falling,
the wolves are close and calling…
Addictions come, go and return afresh.
You’re caught in your man-made mesh.
You asked for help and none came
so all your problems are still the same.
The darkness looms in all the rooms.
Memories only serve to remind
that every memento will only find
a way to let you know how wrong
you’ve been for far too long.
The games you played.
The cum you sprayed.
The lack of trust.
The friends you cussed.
The secret smiles
now defiled
were full of honest pleasure.
You threw away each treasure
for a moment of fool’s gold
and now you have nothing left to hold.

Trump ‘most amazing wizard of all time’.

They’ve pulled the curtain back, back there in Oz
They’ve pulled it back well…because…
They’re losing control of the slaves and the drones
They’re numbing them with shit on their phones
Dulling them with pictures of death and destruction
But they’re refusing to follow the instruction
So… They’ve pulled the curtain back, back there in Oz
They’ve pulled it back, well, you see, there was..
A chance of peace, a world full of joy
Where it wasn’t bad to be a girl or a boy
A synching of hearts was on the agenda
The whole world on a good honest bender
But they pulled the curtain back, back there in Oz
They had to pull it back, well, I don’t want to offend any of your Gods…
The truth of ‘God is within you.’ slipped into the hearts and minds
And worked it’s magic on humans, all kinds
They are here among us, they do not ask for cash
They do very little that is wasteful and nothing that is flash
They do not worship anything or have more than any other
They treat each other human as a sister or a brother
The gathering is happening even as they try to rule
If you think they’ve pulled the curtain back then you may be a fool.

Broken Heartbeat

My heart broke
I heard the snap as the love seeped then gushed out.
As time froze, so did it.
The warmth vacated its space,
left in the eye of the hurricane
and disappeared in that moment.
Yet still I breathed.
I saw your truth and the crack widened.
Yet I still breathed.
I saw your pity
and the last drop of ‘loved’
fell from the chasm
that showed my soul
and the ripples split us in two.
I still breathed.
As you walked away I tried to speak
but my breathing stopped
I heard my broken heart beating,
my broken heart beating for love,
but not for you
and I breathed again.