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Poetry Round Up from the Poetic Warrior

China Lights

China lights they’re coming to get you the lanterns will be landing they will take you all away in a paper bag they say the game is all wrapped up so sweet and sour it is out to do your noodle kit and kaboodle Boris the dish you are a chopstick we can handle you all the cats and dogs woof what a game.

We Own Nothing

Warning to dictators and omnipotent beings it is not my earth to own. For we own nothing beyond our lifestream, the claim has gone mankind must realise this the earth will become unforgiving of you for the mess and lives you ruin. You are but a nasty glitch in time your essences linger, no longer than your breath but the joy of life you ruin you will be reckoned on the seventh lifestream.

Coaching the Amina

Coaching the Amina what are the laws of attraction my mind ponders it deeply. My eye saw you, I picked you no idea what you will turn into my success rate isn’t too good but I’ll give it a go. Your dotted all over the world maybe I’ll approach you to try something different, need to try anything to break through the ties that bind me.

I Hold Within

I hold within a planet that can’t let go, it is without a purpose and currently, it requires a planet host to grow it wants to escape, it torments me, it spins faster. It wants to go I’m not from the earth of that I know, for therein lays another family on another planet something tells me I must find a home.

Mystical Phoenix

Better get used to silence for that is all there is, your mind is wiped like a psychic mystical phoenix caught in a higher moment in unfathomable time. In the distance, a deep pendant abides a faceless clock but over the years becomes louder to the ears right until the last second, and the wind she changes and drops to nothing then it all starts again for another day, yet I dare not think of tomorrow I haven’t finished with today, there is more to go as the moment passes as a clock ticks with pedantic slowness we build up, let us hope to make us cope in time. This world will change but I’m afraid it will be ten thousand years passeth and yet it doesn’t matter.

The Little Lantern Peoples of Hanger Hill

The Little Lantern Peoples of Hanger Hill, we are now approaching the year three thousand, many world downturns later and the fashioned nature of the time is producing smaller peoples of what is left of a world, what is left of houses is little more than rubble to hide in. Food is a combination of the wild fayre, wild veg, and disheveled crumble. Warehousing full of water-soluble dry packet foods, water is now wells and dysentery is high. Public health down to the volunteer medical people now fighting over supplies. But there is a strange phenomenon upon a mountain hill on the edge of the Lake District or more correctly the edge of the North Yorkshire hills. It is a disused gliding school hanger with its sliding doors half-open upon a metal beam in the far corner of this hanger up to a thousand paraffin lanterns can be seen one small knobbly kneed strange human form can be seen standing in front of this lantern keeping warm as it states into this ok light and heated device most primitive. By eight PM a procession of stunted shadowy figures can be seen trailing toward the grey rusting building each being picks a now lit lantern and proceeds to form a circle within the hanger waffled chit chat I observe and then there is the whistle and shaped being called pointed hand and it’s hand goes through a gap in the grey hanger door to alight upon a higher hill. The thousand little lantern peoples must prepare so in procession lamps on they waddled out the big hanger door toward an Auric horn higher up the trail glowing deep and moaning in sound and steam the little lantern people marched in a train of light to the Auric horn.