To All Our Supporters We Announce After a Period of Illness the Return of the Poetic Warrior


I am pleased to tell you after a period of illness the Warrior of Poetry is returning to write poetry for his site,
a brave comeback after being unwell. Poetry is of great help and here is a list of points we think define it’s contribution
to mental health, but first a poem from the Warrior of Poetry.

Amidst the disorienting whirl of words,
They aim to ensnare, like Anaconda’s coil,
To unsettle the mind, sow confusion’s seeds,
In this ‘lemming time’ they call it so,
Where evil threads unwind, and spirits tire.

But let the friendly spirits freely roam,
With good intentions guiding every step,
For in their gentle glow, malevolence shall flee,
Like broken branches scattered on barren land,
Awaiting the freedom of resilient hearts,
Those who, unyielding, stand in the face of discord.

We came up with some pointers as to why writing poetry provides an outlet for expressing complex emotions  and thoughts that may be difficult to articulate otherwise. It allows individuals to explore their feelings and experiences in a creative and cathartic manner.

Self-Reflection and Insight:  Engaging in poetry encourages self-reflection and introspection,  leading to a deeper understanding of one’s inner world, beliefs, and values. This process can promote personal growth and self-awareness.

Stress Relief: The act of writing poetry can be a relaxing and meditative practice that helps reduce stress and promote relaxation. Focusing on creative expression can temporarily alleviate worries and anxiety.

Empowerment and Control: Crafting poems gives individuals a sense of empowerment and control over their narrative. It allows them to shape their experiences into meaningful art, fostering a sense of agency and ownership.

Connection and Communication: Poetry has the power to connect people on an emotional level, fostering empathy and understanding. Sharing poetry with others can create a sense of community and support, reducing feelings of isolation.

Validation of Experiences: Writing poetry validates one’s experiences and feelings, acknowledging their significance and impact. It can be a form of self-validation and affirmation of one’s identity and struggles.

Creativity and Imagination: Engaging in creative activities like poetry stimulates the imagination and cultivates a sense of playfulness and innovation. It encourages individuals to think outside the box and explore new perspectives.

And so the poetry continues. What wonders of words await us

A Message On Behalf of Warrior of Poetry to all Visitors



My name is Tony Topping, the Creative Director on behalf of Ian The Warrior of Poetry. Ian has been quite unwell hence
the break in postings of Poetry. What began in about 2007 was an idea due to a chance meeting outside a cafe in my local town
where I met Ian after not seeing him for a number of years.

He said he had a few poems could I perhaps type them for him and do a website.

Years later this has expanded into a poetic archive like no other. Snowballing into this great archive we see now.
Despite Ian being poorly we are still working on the site and still doing the poems. Which I am sure is great news,
there is no way this site would be taken off line due to the years of work involved.
While Ian is recovering he wrote this poem for his visitors to the site,
I have no doubt he will write a book about this ordeal.

I collapsed, deaths door could have appeared and on that fateful day for a minute god had deserted me.
Yet I found he was with me. All creativity lost, they discovered I was unwell. They placed me back in a
cage and I roared like a lion. My mind a sea of delusions and thoughts, yet I am saved
and yet there is light for by the grace of god a poet am I and prose and words flow like
water again. For my destiny is to write and come what may I am pleased god had blessed me
on that day.

A Right Royal Round Up Of Poetry From Our Esteemed Wordsmith

The Alliance of the Brave

The Alliance of The Brave individuals who stand out , they are on their own they do not have much. Every government of every colour has ignored them but they are together not in resistance more in defiance, but of survival we are brothers and sisters kissed by the sun every day. We wake up stretch our legs and arms we pray for peace of a greater kind, our lives are in a Temple, our Altar is love energy. Destroy the weapons of hate, silence all that angers you. For modern man is his own downfall, back to source we all go don’t waste your time in hate tune your mind to the wonders of the Godhead and ask can we survive.


The Secret

The secret lays in all those craters small or large a holding base for thousands of craft well disguised for sure . Nuclear war was raging upon earth the outcome total death and mayhem for sure ,this dead planet moon was and is holding the next chapters for mother earth a quarter of a million miles away. Preparation is everything the telescopes are real and it’s hard to believe what is happening. From the moon craters the rising in uncountable numbers the Alien Mother ships and the scout craft two by two erode and alight from the moon. It is not so innocent in intention now for it is all moving the Alien invasion has slowly begun all I could think of upon Earth is let me join save my space upon the ship for I’ve decided.


People of this country , stop listening to the self serving politicians they don’t care if you live or die there is moral human chaos going on all around think for yourselves do not listen to politicians take a third of their salaries away question your local politicians every day every way. I can tell you now pull back your wants think of others talk to others never mind holidays put your country right. A revolution in attitudes is needed we need a guide for the humanity we have lost through greed and want. None of it will be made right until the reset button is pressed and pray not the Nuclear button for which there is no return. The ship of state has no pilots to navigate , there is a far more sinister thing going on on Truss is an evil puppet playing thirty year old cassette my late father was fifty years ago a top Conservator County Councillor Conservative a joy of a party then his next stop was going to be an MP , one step away my family covered his grave all over to protect him God bless Dad he was only forty four I get real emotional about him son of Lancashire I’m still a Conservative that way it means a lot but not this evil tapped lot

Flying Saucers

Standard Flying Saucers for all that is what is recommended for those left after nuclear war scout craft by the two survey constantly the task will never be done for man does not have the answer anymore the numbers are two vast and no other planet to inhabit has been located so the pickle is big too much for even The Aliens to manage I guess that’s it then it wasn’t everlasting the known world I mean , let us pray at least.


I wouldn’t like emotions deeper than the ocean, I’d never get out again nor drum to the island I call my Crannog, my deep mystic truth is somewhere in the middle centred for the love or need to aim, to broadcast, in the ripple of the sonar straight to the heart of the love and the sanctuary. I crave the Almighty, after that I made too much art I couldn’t recover from I live on my own at Crannog under the stars, by the tall trees, where the owls and ghosts join me in peace.


Saturday silence echoes as it never did before. The streets are deserted, not how they used to be, happiness has gone over the hill and down again as it used to be. The state has rounds upon its citizens an all the talk is of war, the most frightening of scenarios. Who really wants it no-one absolutely no one but the star is forming and control and oppression and it is in the face of many. Fear does not come as close as this I can only guess this is evil can we stop it where do we start can we be happy again let us pray so Amen.

Now and Forever

Now and forever just me and the wind, I lift my head to the sky above, I say where now from here, I can’t even guess. There are no signs that say lost and I’ll believe anything for that matter. That’s life I guess. I count the breaths in and out, I ask what is life. The reply well I am unable to tell you, but I’m going through a tunnel with life the universe and everything. I wait to be transferred into a higher realm. Peace out Brothers and Sisters.

Port of Silence

Port of silence port of stillness port of vacancy, not a soul around nobody, and then do I ask for there isn’t a soul around all in exile or extinctions humanity has gone just dark waters a lonely bird drops but a pebble from on high, but what is watching the ripples of time vanishes to a nothing then silence, the matters that be of the darkness of our times where indeed is anybody a loud cry for help is heard in the far tunnels of time that be I know not of the silence.

Goodness Me

Goodness me I’ve been walking over this ancient carpet for many a year now and a stare from the chair to the floor whilst drinking my second cup of tea . Whilst looking down amongst the weave these incredible faceted eyes reached my receptive densities , I became aware there was indeed a Alien hiding in the room ask yourself what is in your carpet

A Message

I wait for a message when will I hear it how will I hear it, and when will it come how do I pray where will I pray who will teach me, for I know not how in the darkness it id difficult for a lack of light prevails. I wish to see and most of all pray tell us are we really alone for I’m beginning to believe that indeed we really are part of a cosmic game. So yes I continue to pray may the Lord have mercy on our souls .

Keep Up

Keep up transmission we want to know who’s there it’s been a big secret and we need to know. Now we near the end of ,a lifetime a call to the cosmos for our existence to prevail.  We really need to know that maybe it was worth it, I said ask the spaceman who is coming soon just wait for the rattle and hum of a slowing silver ship as it hovers over the shack. One dark night the rest is history and the voyage begins through the planet to your new cosmic home.

Give It To Me

Give it to me, love it to me more and the world needs it more the love road the sound of a mountains heart fit to bust spread around the world make the tutonic plates a riddle grate pleaser make the earth move let’s get the love back and I mean big time oh boom man boom the sound of love is thundering down the road oh happy joy oh happy day let’s roll
This is a lifetime you do not know me I want you to know said the man you really don’t ,do yo know why I guess not but I am in fact a northern Alien sent to teach those if you who know not .I am a replica t accelerator of many kinds part of a programme you may never know of but for the time being I’ll hide in the pub whilst there’s is one cheers

The Fate

The fate it’s a coming the sealed doors are bulging with the secrets we keep they couldn’t hold much longer the truth wanted out the air had to clear before we could all start anew none of us were really guilty but all had to look forward non could look back the door came down and on that day new life and ways started the air was clear and the pollution of the cars and chemicals stopped.

Another Day

It isn’t time a little voice told me give it another day I heard it from somewhere I listened the sky opened and I was taken away and I came out elsewhere but not on the earth I knew a voice came to me and whispered you are modified you are now upon Mars my son you will soon have company look yonder for the sky craft it will come you are now ex of earth forever.


We are ready to plug in to the eternal, never lose the greater vision beyond the skies above,
beyond all that is known the mystery that is wonderful will happen shall we close our eyes to see.


How is your world today said the Alien, we are on a rotating ball said the earth man, we live on it, it goes around, still don’t know why we are here nobody has told us, can we come on your ship, the Alien said just once but please not a word it would be so bad, at least that is what I thought he said until I realised me and Kevin were on our 7th Pint in the local.


So we wait upon the breezes for clues but I’m lost for there is no direction but the way I travel and that is now slow, looking for reasons to carry on but most of all where is that voice that Almighty voice, of I Am, the I breathing and the outbreathing , creation, preservation, life in all splendour.





We Are Pleased To Announce The Forthcoming Book Adventures In The Poetic Universe


Adventures In The Poetic Universe
Adventures in the Poetry Universe is a selection of poems from the Warrior of Poetry Archive. To awaken your soul. The archive is a collection of over one thousand poems, on life, the universe and everything. It is poetry that has saved poet Ian Wilson’s sanity on many occasions let it save yours.


Warrior of Poetry Political Rant Step Aside Fiona Bruce BBC QT


People of this country , stop listening to the self serving politicians they don’t care if you live or die there is immoral human chaos going on all around. Think for yourselves do not listen to politicians take a third of their salaries away, question your local politicians every day in every way. Pull back your wants, hear the words from the film Gladiator ‘As One’, think of others, talk to others never mind holidays. Put your country right. A revolution in attitudes is needed we need better leaders for humanity. We have lost through greed and want. None of it will be made right until the reset button is pressed and pray not the Nuclear button for which there is no return. For it solves nought.

The Ship of State has no pilots to navigate, there is a far more sinister things going on and Truss is an evil puppet playing the thirty year old cassette of Neo Liberalism. My late father was fifty years ago a top Conservator County Councillor. Conservative a proud party back then, his next stop was going to be an MP, one step away from that goal he passed over, my family covered his grave all over to symbolically protect him. God bless Dad he was only forty four I get real emotional about him son of Lancashire man, I’m still a Conservative that work is rewarded and yet today that message is corrupted as businesses go to the wall a sorry tale, my father turns in the grave.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive