Category: Mason Cult Social Justice.

IT IS SUMMER LETS HAVE SOME POEMS, MY FRIENDS…

I Do Not Want The Demons.

I don’t want the demons so let’s keep running towards the light. If we can run away from a discarnate world, we will hear footsteps behind us in the dead of night. I must get up, is this real am I real. Do my feet touch the ground. The souls of all countries are dying time is slowly being called on the entire world. There is panic at the station I’ve bought a ticket but there is nowhere to go the only hope is a small light within the vortex that is now my destination.

Totally Abandoned

Thrown into the universe slowly around and around, totally abandoned by a greater mind I slowed gradually in the distance I confirm craft it appeared as big as a small world I was caught and sucked into a gap, the mother of all gaps a large vortex in appearance once in I disappeared in what appeared to be a flowing river in a different lifestream, there were others being prepared for other lives on what might become another designated planet of arrangement decided presumably by an adept of which all seemed to be in attendance all around me. Circling white lights amidst violet auras automatic and beautifully separated in suspended animation I seemed to be travelling slowly to a new life purpose where the scent of profusion entered my being anew.

The Power Game

Black gate, black door, the power game behind house building called 10, you know the one, that keeps the Tories in power. Not easy to see as it is the most decisive ploy in history. I am talking about the ever-false ploy to try and mortgage the truly unaffordable homes of today’s hyper inflated inflation debt. Causing poverty, I am bloody ranting about the obsession with trying to own a so-called home. If anything has caused divisiveness in this land it is this. It creates jealousy, false want, unnecessary need, in many cases driven by the need for Tory control. It has caused division false expectation and worst of all generations now of Tory control. A sense of greed, subtle yet present, the hypnosis of a population whose attitude is of skewed relationships and is even part of the teachings in schools.

One is expected to in theory own one’s own home . This needs to be changed, council homes should not be a dirty word but a well-managed decent place to be. The creation of harmonious communities not unhealthy rivalries, divisions that are tearing young and older apart and at the heart of this badness are the Tories and the dictatorial tones of control played like a violin. Want this to change then the first port of call is to remove the Tories and have a true Socialist government. Rant over off to read poems to Keir Starmer.

Towards The End

Toward the end and in the distance I could visage the beginning between black skeletal trees, a moon behind me and so in front of me illumination, creation, preservation, transmutation an energy pyramid. Sat faintly growing dimly glowing majestic, magnetic. In control of the field of presences where new creatures come playing in the night silently…

My Mind Taken By The Bard !!!!

Warrior of Poetry AKA Mason Cult in turk’rs wood once m’re twas early evening mason ent’r’d his creepy did abide upon the f’rrest track t hadst only been m’rely two years since the black pixilat’d six foot traveleth spirit hadst blink’d hence behind that gent not wanting to beest seen t blipp’d and did vanish , but int’rmittently bawbling clust’rs of his black did shape youngst’rs hadst been hath caught playing speedily. Anon those gents w’re becoming m’re brave in behaviour and in the v’ry recent timeth has’t been spott’d dancing upon a concrete wasteth transf’r platf’rm in carefree abandon, I concludeth the dark figure hast a family his new home in turk’rs wood remains undisturb’d and Mason Cult did get some catch but a wink.

Another Poetry Selection From Warrior of Poetry.

Neptune’s Friend

Neptune’s friend now a spirit drifting within a dense cloud, hiding. I always wondered when in mortal time what it would have been like to go fishing on a boat in wild seas. How brave and maybe mindless is is it to rise and fall in the search for slick shiny protein we call fish.

Oh skill, bravery and tenacity reign in all forms but nothing more brave than the stoic warrior of the fishing seas. The fisherman his biblical struggle for a staple of your feed. I zone in from the clouds to the boat deck with the manic endeavours of the day. I sensed rising and falling I couldn’t be sick as I was a spirit now flowing in the slicks of wind and rain. I was with the fishermen till they headed for home to the shoreline and safe harbour and I thought in my spirit form who shall I join next for another day. Upwards I transcend to hide within the cloud, to be free again.

Rooms With a View

Rooms with a view and how much more do we need, I really mean it. Many of the troubles that we have today are due to the uneven distribution of land and the convincing methods of control this has. Nobody should have to live in a tower block but they do. How is that enjoyable battery hens are kept this way they have problems for sure they do.

It’s a parachute for a garden and a lift from terra firma alright or otherwise death is not too pleasant so why is this an acceptable form of living. Surely it is not, but the idea remains half a mile to the clouds . Something needs to change but at this point in time I’m stuck for an answer, surely so called intelligent planners cannot continue with these results. We know of one of the most immoral results being in the form of Grenfell Tower, finally over the planners desks one comes up with this suggestion to deliver us from such horrors alas however where there is no sense, there is no feeling, are these people possessed. Think hard brothers and sisters of the lives lost.

Milestone

Milestone of a redirected discovery, that of truth and love. To live forever side by side seen on the future horizon far in a cosmic sky. Starlit pods explode cascading down and all around, dazzling and bemusing. The earth moves once more in a new revolution inspired by good and bold, young and old together we go kinder citizens of the world in new hope stand, be inspired in vortexes of starlight and let us go live.

Rainy

On a rainy black road of glistening rain, I glance the protruding stock window frames stand proud one window stands out for what is within it is but a landscape, upon this wall. So many sitting inside this wall mural has on its door the guarantee of escape. Narnia on the wall, tell me are we all that desperate now to escape from the inner house, do I believe it. Oh yes I would like too.

That I Know

There are too many of us of that I know. We have run out of words, I know that too. It is disturbing I know that also. We are watching exterminators every day we see that I know as well. We are watching, this is happening for verily I know. The wheel turns that is also known, forever on the world watching waiting and aye yond is eke known as the bard wouldst sayeth I’m here living for the moment and aye I knoweth yond v’ry much, Shakespeare stirs the Bard within me.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive