Guantanamo Fear or Victims


He hides face in his arms as they grabbed him,

twisting, hurting his already rope burned skin,

innocently he had travelled to aged Afghanistan,

guilty by colour and creed he was violently taken,

not arrested, nor accused like hundreds of others.


Guantanamo Bay, a cruel place of tried and tested

torture criminalising good men,

treating them with contempt 

and evil won the day.


Lives broken, loving men lost to their families

forced to live now in isolation,

their punishment continues,

plagued by secrecy and doubt.


Evil’s at its best when rabid racism enters

the eyes of the kind hearted,

and fearfully trains hearts to a fear

based on the thought police.


Men who would be our friends have been lost,

peaceable lives tragically torn,

and now will justice come? Or,

like the dew or go early away?

A Woman’s Choice

She peeled back her skin and saw

that she was raw material for a 

marketing machine that would

make a fortune in denying the

fragile existence of a woman 

because she was fitted out in

the wrong covering. 


Leaving her tight skin friends

another floated into money by

stripping out her stomach and

pretending that her body was

a robot’s by oiling the joints

with the catwalk.


They met over a dustbin of lies

where the flies circled the misery

placed on their heads by those

blinded by the balance of funds

and break the beauty and the

gift of those who will die of

the sickness of who they are.

A Thought

A thought is but a fleeting moment in time,

that like water slips into the small spaces

and trickling through pervading the whole

with its denigration or delight, hate or hope.


The trickling consequences of biased thinking,

busily blinds the sighted, and bruises the 

beauty of the hated, hunted, harried, human

now bowed down by steely opinionations. 


So, they fall prey to the purposeful prodding of

a few, who flayed them with the will of wealth, 

blighting the lives of black people, and pursuing

the goals of the racist generals of white elitism,


and I bend the knee to send out a new thought

that racism is wrong, it is right to resist, and 

right to rebel against the rigidity of thoughts

that have prorogued years of possibilities.

I have a Dream.

“I have a dream,” he spoke clearly

and the people cheered and agreed.

while government grew the cult of 

‘white supremacy” no Klu Klux Klan,

begat by burning crosses, visible

but the silence of white supremacy

shouted through the establishment

til the rootedness grew like bindweed


but only those who threaded their

twisting origins can yank them out.

Only they can answer the question

of blindness and institutional racism.

Those who have never felt less than,

who have never experienced the hurt

of instant dislike because of their skin,


those who have never had to battle

to be believed nor struggle with a

police officer deaf to their cries,

‘I cannot breath,’ lies solemnly, squarely

at their feet and they will be found

wanting, if they are unable to repent

of denying Christ who was black.

And so we kneel and names

are called as the grim gauntlet

is laid afresh.