Britain August 2022

Like sheep to the slaughter we voted them in,

like donkeys we slave away at their despotic will,

like a cat amongst pigeons they pursue and push

at our connections, destroying our community

but, like automatons they tread on unfeeling.

———-

Like a lion they prowl and devour their prey,

chewing the last juicy money from their 

thin, worn pockets and adding it to their fine

warm, bulging bank accounts, watching as life

burns, burying their conscience beneath cash.

——————-

She is like a wraith as she looks at the shops,

willing the meagre sum in her purse to stretch,

willing the prices lower and the hunger, stamped

on her child’s face by politicians, to give way to

a happy, healthy smile that lights up the eyes.

—————

Still they chew her coins as they claim expenses,

eating away at the tax payers purses and praying

no one will notice their shameless, shambolic

posturing. Like rats fleeing the sinking ship they 

sail away; steering the wreck from Tory havens.

Grief

Death comes oh so slowly for some,

whispering in each struggling breath,

holding them in its grip but tightly

not letting them go to their freedom,

gasping for air, painful frowns as

medication is measured and relief

is sought, but death comes too slow.

===

Death is sudden. Like a fist to the gut.

No warning, no word, no inkling of it.

She was so young, he was only. God!

This is not how I imagined my day.

Like a huge rolling wave it hits and

leaves an aftermath of abject misery.

It comes. A crater in someone’s life.

===

Death steals hope and fruitful futures,

and tho t’is part of nature nurturing. so

 it has its shadowy way; a dark valley.

Long ago a wounded hands reach out

from a cross, he shared with us the

grim journey. Now, he warmly welcomes

each weary soul with love and fills them

with life;

for

eternity.

Super Wealth and Destructive Politics.

Curling leaves and cruel heat scorching the thirsty fruit,

smoke covered faces and sweat soaked uniforms,

telling the cost of carbon fuels.

Fires rage and ground cracks as the power of the few

imagines that they control the climate for the  wealthy

who vainly want their profits.

===

Children with their empty tummies rumbling and their

grumbling parents, who face starvation and the rich 

 – charge the poor for their banquets.

——-

Justice and mercy do not meet in our democracy now

for the few they have what they want and destroy lives;

but God will not be mocked.

—-

Silently, the power of the few has broken ranks and

slowly they will drift apart until their raft will sink

and will we throw them a life belt?

—-

History happened ,but will it come again?? that power

has been taken and nature enslaved to the ranks 

and bank of the oppressors.

Climate change brings a levelling up and a crisis

that we cannot imagine. And, like ants in water to

survive the whole must strive.

—-

They blink their eyes and shout on the biassed 

broadcast but the earth fills with the rising seas

and mountains become hills.

Some think three homes and billions of pounds

will keep them afloat but the naked truth does

not lie – we are destroying the gift

—–

of a planet, blue and green with polar caps

all for the sake of carbon fuels and motor

on as creation and people die.

May God help us!

Ruinous Governments

Its a war on words and ideas that are just,

they make a pact and renegade on the fact 

that you agreed their wielded written word’s;

scorn you and laugh at your confusion and plot

your demise, descending hope falls broken,

and to cope is through tears, heartbreak

and blood shed on your doorstep.

——-

Armies muster their support with guns,

governments insist on their inalienable 

rights over your right to free speech, and

the freedom to care for your famished

family, by pushing up profits for profiteers

and making your income shrink as the

companies raise prices but pay petty tax.

——

There is a whisper that things might be

improving, so that we accept their disdain

and even tolerate their lie infested talk,

We walk an ever decreasing circle of

fascist dictatorships and the liberal loss

of our democracies, having  ignored

the prophets with their scary prophecies.

Cruelty in Politics

The knives are out and the dissection started,

Each knowing and set their direction signalled..

Tax cuts or higher tax to quell the over wealthy

as they lean in and offer or finger their purses.

Each one turning the tory vice on their victims:

a family, school children, refugees and workers,

the struggling overwhelmed by rising prices and

now the neglected climate heats oppresses so.

—–

Meddlesome politicians, manipulating tories,

baking the populace while they turn their backs,

letting strings be pulled by influencing hacks, who

push the line that all is fine when many will die,

because experts are marginalised and lies 

carpet the halls where ignorance is encouraged

as long as the money is kept going into  their off

shore accounts and the founts of wisdom dry up.

——-

They laugh at us while babies and children die,

and the power of a few is consider wisdom,

and its wielded incoherently, and the many

have yet to ‘awaken the dawn’ and become 

a force for change and a flaming torch for

justice, equality, the common good and a

wonderful welcome for wanderers on the shore.

——

They come to our shores desperate, fleeing 

terrible things only to be sent away to an

evil regime that rules by terror and so they

travel worn, war torn, cry in their pillows 

where there are no rights. but another 

Tory ally who sheds blood, greedily rakes

in the cash and buys shameful sorrows.

——

Stand up, do not fear for we are of saving

the lives and opposing those who shackles 

the prisoner rather than freeing them from 

a despot’s chains. who blinds the seeing 

with blatant untruths and deafens the hearing 

with insistent noise, with words without meaning, 

sounds that continually violate hoping we will

grow numb, turn away and crave inaction.

I didn’t know that Cobbles were real!

She wobbled on the verge of the cobbles,

which appeared as if by surprise. Giggling 

she walked across the bumpy terrain

and balanced on her toes.

—–

Looking up, she laughed to her Dada,

‘Cobbles!’ she laughed,’ not in a book

or on a film nor in Minecraft.

Cobbles!’ she shouted and tripping lightly, fell.

——-

Collapsed on the unforgiving cobbles, tears of rage,

turning to sobs, as strong arms encircled

the grieving body, that had not bounced,

instead on those cobbles was bruised.

——–

Restored confidence, by loves tender hugging,

she sprightly strode over the rounded lumps

and holding a hand lightly, advanced to 

the tightly packed tarmac.

——-

Thinking herself safe she tried to let go

even as cars hurried by, grabbing but gently,

his voice called her, hands locked, 

his daughter safe from their threat.

——-

Ambling on they came to the doors,

a place of  cheery fun , with slides

and cushioned ways, lights and ladders

child friendly and Dada relaxes.

—–

There were tears and even bumps,

although softened surfaces and padded falls

there were slips but playing with balls and slides

tears dry fast amidst the fun.

——-

Too soon going home she pouts and protests

and is reminded of the cobbles waiting;

and looking at them sees fun and smiles

at those lumpy forgiven cobbles.

The Blue Way

Slowly, shifting our stumbling minds

they open Pandora’s box, letting their

principles die, their seeming petty crimes

bloat their egos and blind the people to

their continued gaffes, grim groping and

giving lies instead of truths in quantities,

too many to number hoping to confuse,

discombobulate, muddle and distract,

thinking the populace too thick to know

just what their plotting and ploys are.

Tax breaks for those living tough lives

which pay the rich as the debts pile up,

breaking news of great things they’ll do

and laugh out loud when nothings to

be seen and investigations reveal their

lying, cheating, guilty ways as they 

decide to divide party and people and 

ply their sickening politics of genocide.

painting the saviours as inept or red

when they’re the ones sharing that bed.

The Eternal Pilgrimage

I’ve walked the ways of curlews and grasshoppers,

through meadows and pine trees, muddy lanes, 

valleys of mists and cliffs where choughs called

to my soul and saw sun gilded branches and

great ocean waves holding the glory of gold.

===

I’ve walked hospital corridors, shared shed tears,

watched the light go from a sick man’s eyes

and known the weight of human compassion,

following down  the church behind the coffin 

holding love and sore grief heavy with hope.

=====

I’ve walked in the footsteps of sacrificial saints,

along stained streets, across once pretty parks,

and church yards where spent dirty  needles

tell the sadness and pain of dreams hard won

being lost in a haze of poverty and violence.

====

I’ve walked in the halls of wealth and fame, 

where stalk the fears that the mask will fail

and falling reveal the fresh face of failure,

and money bites into the soul and extracts

like a drug the will to be free of its chains.

=====

Head bent pressing forward, pushing for

a place to rest, a place of peace a place

where footprints in the sand are not mind

but the one who carries me, the one who

caring for all our troubles with his life.

The Seeking Pilgrim

Was ever thus, 

when the pilgrim came from

the sea,

fearing the return.

—-

They stayed in a 

still small island

listening for the

thin place and

finding only birds

and the rolling waves,

filling the air

with music,

when they looked for 

God. In the waiting 

they smile at flowers

nodding in the bee breezes

and glower at the dark clouded horizon.

——

Slowly time slipped by and the shore

filled and emptied to a rhythm 

set by the Spirit,

and the pilgrim 

picks driftwood  

as a memory.

Waiting in the Night

Twas evening, when the fishermen sail,

the sun shifting to shine on other seas,

Faintly glowing the far off stars

herald the approaching night.

——

the light slowly recedes from the shore,

as somewhere a wise owl calls from 

a wooded glade, where rested roosting 

birds ready to wake the dawn.

——–

The silken skin of the placid sea

moves in time to a hidden melody

while slowly a sliver of gold rises

silvering the darkling sky.

———–

Nearby human quieten, homes darken

and the moon bright sea shimmers.

and within the ripples dancing is

blue phosphorus blooming.

——–

A sole person communes from the shore,

lost in Neptune’s glorious palette,

he meditates on the swell’s rise

and fall, the salt in his tears.

——–

and the sea watching the lone figure,

hears his eternal heart’s brokenness, 

and in its wisdom contemplates the

mystery of human mortality.