The seed carriers of evolutionfall upon this new day, they rain upon desolate earth profound are they. For there is much to cover as Barron lands recover in silence for there is not a man nor woman to witness for this is done in in a vagueness of spaces, in mists they arrive apart from in intermittent pulses of winds in directions all random, some are directed from strategic Auric Beacons throughout new terra, the cleansing begins.
Covid i predict a trial like Nuremburg
Nation beware of the local political doctors, the deciders of the rationing of treatment begin to operate, let’s take private dentists as an example, let me point to NHS dentistry, once again they say that they are short of P.P.E equipment or none at all.
Are they as private providers in a better position to supply this, if you are one of the many NHS patients allowed to sit with the private patients on the list, one is told you cannot have essential treatment. Which of the private plan clients are they allowed to treat.
A grey area, citizens of totalitarian Britain. We have a group of veiled Nazis in government but let them not forget the vote, both Tory and Labour can’t do without each other when it comes to political power, they and the increasing power of local authority control and the middle class busy bodies on community engagement forums, they are the new Mr and Mrs Bumbles poking their way into decanting community spy information and helping dinner party doctors in making the list of who in virus lock down world lives or dies. A sad world.
If the virus came from anywhere then it came from more than one country and more than one facility it could be termed as professional, medical, societal, political correctional murder to balance the populations, the higher masonic I suggest are involved at every professional level. But sworn to threatening secrecy the poor and vulnerable are not offered an opinion. They are but a wiped name from a morticians register board this government blatantly issued a media statement to the public, saying be prepared for the passing of many in the communities. But the poor are still too many, too many for the voices to be silenced. Boris Johnson is a media construct helped by Dominic Cummings and it is just a question of time before the whole deck of cards comes down and believe me there will be much, much anger.
Another Rip Roaring Selection Of Poems
Black Cat
Black cat in the white snow. We can see you, how would we think otherwise upon this cold day, the cold swish black dart across white waste land. It hopes I guess for Mrs Smith to have filled her bird feeder with those tasty morsels. so feathers flying and blood from her lips the black cat in the white wasteland tells of a remorseless nature in all species. Weak will fall away to the side and so by prediction we also will return and hunt. But this with a more sinister dimension to a world that once had a better mission, that of advance in the practice of humanity.
If You Are Poor In The Words of the Baird
Beware if ‘t be true thou art po’r f’r there is nay political party f’r the po’r sayeth the rich politician which couldst beest from any party, who is’t art those gents to sayeth yond we art m’rally inf’ri’r ‘r to has’t feareth, that gent yond hath nay house to calleth home f’r that gent resides in the did grind of desire and sineth coequal thou hast not committ’d sineth, thou is guilty of not owning thy home sayeth the class police no-one doest careth f’r thy suff’ring coequal though thou art the honest citizen and at the bottom of the pile victim of a controlling political and controlling politico elite. Though art the dog endeth stubb’d out by all vain politicians whatev’r flag those gents standeth und’r but prey to the valorous l’rd, nev’r surrend’r thy life and freedom coequal if ‘t be true thee reside in the inhuman toweth’r blocks of this ‘r any oth’r landeth. Amen
Wake Up Rise
Wake up rise alight from wherever, here I am, not that anyone is aware of me toast and the coffee, don’t let the honey slide on your hand. I’m already stuck, the first demand pings at me oh your overdue… here’s to that, your password we need it, for it is time to start processing hip hip hurray to that one, that is all well and good alas I’ve forgotten it. Advice I apply for advice, apply here and there again. Double hurrah there. The sceptic makes up a password but it’s up and down miles long, up and down. I say to hell with this, what about iris, your pupil, your all seeing eye is she there then I’ll address that, happy and hippy am I, but my postcode is not recognised, the house has been in the same street for a hundred years. Hang on your retina has just come back and it’s still not quiet right, well then God let’s me get over this, lets just talk it’s been a long while I heard someone say I couldn’t see. Well bless my cotton socks it’s good to talk but I am blind and everyone looks yet nobody notices.
Selection of poems for your enjoyment
Son of lightweights made heavy by time and experience never the model, maybe a son under one sun walking to the light of discovery. After years of clouds and dark days daring to lift the lid to freedom.
The Day The Trees Left Earth
The day the trees left earth, so many years drawing upon earths poisons, the ground shuddered roots broke loose and levitated from the seating earth. If you won’t mend your ways we will go somewhere else we grew for you upon the ground from the sky we neutered establishing to you the very air you breath, but earth man refuses to withdraw his poisons. So we are compromised to the extent where we now have to go, legacy gaps you now find and earth weeps tears as she declines.
An Ode To Masks
Friend, foe or just insane we all pass by our masks in place, we hide, we retrieve our breath as we walk step by step we are warned do not reveal we could be dangerous. We are told to know how we are the the epitome of the new veiled. By dark irony the very mask we wear comes from the very place that caused the virus. Still when it comes to money and the cheap option we know how. We are told we are fat we are told we will die. As the sun comes up so the day begins we savour the moment for it could be the last we wear the mask, otherwise remodelled no idea who I was it’s all down to number so we want to escape but to where it is cold upon the mountain top and I am just one sat here in contemplation as the police wander over ticket book in hand. The comical dark saga our nation faces continues.
Double Barrelled Names Good God No
So offensive are they not a day goes by when media screens are not full up with double barrelled names. A sure sign that we are more bothered about trying to be more important than anything else made up to try and bolster, embellish and hide our insecurities and rivalry aplenty. I prefer Joe Smith or Mrs Smetherhurst at least one can have a conversation when humans touch base for a chinwag and ask how’s Jack is he OK we think we are two sophisticated now I assure you we are not we are human and royalty and the class system is an evil façade.
Son of Lightweights
Son of lightweights made heavy by time and experience never the model, maybe a son under one sun walking to the light of discovery. After years of clouds and dark days daring to lift the lid to freedom.
Not empowered but grateful for secret input to gain insight it is as if God for a blip in time made me aware of what I should do to save a tiny portion of life left. If that is so take the leap yonder people all held down, try at least to be yourself however poor in circumstance you may be, People like you lean a little bit more for opening the door to say hello, just be a friend and that is all. No fear. no favour. Friendships should be free as birds of the sky
Covid It’s Death All The Way
Covid its death all the way and a hop skip and jump to the thrift society way. How else could it have been achieved, the wheat from the chaff, the secret clearout. The healthy eating, a new compliant society polite and passive in a world holy cooperative and controlled by a state machine. It will take a seriously brave group of individuals to alter the course of events. Will the rule over us be a liberty of sorts or a working walking sense of a former life. With the additions under the same sun as seen before, all disease is set upon us by our own direction. Oh yes it is real what we see but the overplan is unknown and administered by those upon the astral plane in the dead of night or does truth reside with the political spin doctors who are puppets of the worldwide political elite. As of this moment no-one dare question. Upon thy fate may rest, indeed very scared are we. The reverb of new hope is sorely needed to save the world.