A Fascist Symphony

Emboldened by the brazen bigotry of his bearing,

he betrayed the people who gave him his power,

a democracy broken by a peering, prying, lying

leader and furthering his feathering by freely

paving a patterned pathway in bribes and scandal.


Helpless  we watch and wearily we retweet or 

write to those who should be able to help, but

their hands are tied by a shocking symphony

of singing sycophants and silently those who

could form an opposition foolishly hum along


to a tune played on strings made from the gut of

the poor and a wonderful woman, who sought to

help her son thrive, starved, silent, while the beats

of the drums called her illegal and filled her with 

the cacophony of self interest and a cruel crescendo


of hatred, and still the few make rules for the many

and instil racism and misogyny, mistaking money

for policy, and loosing upon the children of humble,

heartwarming folk, fighting for a far fairer force,

the fascist salute of idolatry and the evil of eugenics.

Death Ripped Him from Her.

The jagged edges of his death cut through her heart,

tearing it out and displaying it for all to see.

She looked at it forcing the blood around her body

hating it for keeping her alive when he had gone.


Texting messages that showed hope, when        she

knew the the white coated spectre’s voices echoed

in her brain, body colluding with mind to shatter

the day which had started out so promising, and now


as the sun dropped from the horizon and blackness

rose from the earth and seized its opportunities to

draw the light from his countenance too, leaching

slowly the singular life which had shared such joy.


She knelt in tears, and quietly her head screamed

for something to wind back the time and for this to

be something to warn against tomorrow, not now. 

The wet flowed down her cheeks wetting his dry skin


as she leaned in for a kiss, to remind him that she was 

still there and still waiting for him to come leaping 

back with the adventures of today bright in his eyes,

and the warmth of his arms as they spun her around.


No-one spoke as she shifted her aching hand in his

but somewhere the emptiness glowed with a light

and the crucified, crippled body of another man

whispered, ‘I am here too.”

The Black Messiah

They pushed the cross over and his body banged the earth,

His eyes wide staring, blood dried and his mouth of love

set in rictus like a scream as he gasped for one more breath,

his skin the colour of mahogany, peeled and a burned by 


the sun which touched him, naked and humiliated as he

hung visible in front of the before baying crowd, who

lately remembered his crippled hands’ gentle touch 

of loving healing, his thorn, torn ear hearing every word.


Gently they lowered him onto a sheet, and took him to 

the whitened sepulchre, a spectre of nothingness, hiding

the merit of mercy, the goodness of grace, a passionate

being whose desire for us exceeded our darkest imagining


of an avenging God, of righteous anger, a harbinger of 

horror, to reveal the truth of a generous God of abnegation,

who weeps over our plight and pledges to give all

out of love for our love even his life. The cold stone


met the overheated form, flowers flowed around,

and herbs him adorned to stifle the stench of the

the earth bound flesh suborned by self sacrifice, and

the stone shuts giving time for the King of Kings 


to release his eternal self and reunited he sleeps

and wakes, walks free of the shackles of human

existence within his heart the woundedness

of each human and their healing. His chosen one 


comes, his dark eyes see her beautiful tear driven 

anguish, as she greets the gardener, “Tell me where 

he is laid. The Tomb is empty.”  Grief engulfs him 

as he says her name, “Mary.” and in that moment


earth and heaven became one as expectation and hope

unite and the body broken on the cruel, cursed cross 

walks towards her and suddenly everything lost

is all things possible, “Teacher!” creation cries.


Democracy lost.

Their faces hidden by veiled views of disdain

towards the poor and unemployed, suffering slaves

and  a cold contempt for the ones who stand

against the constant cover-up of criminal 


actions that pass unheeded before the courts,

which they manipulate to their own ends

and the visor of innocence is strengthened

by misinformation and paparazzi headlines.


The right wing mask is on and behind darkling 

doors they force through laws that give them 

unlimited powers, 

give peerages to Russians


so, we wriggling like