In Subversion

In subversion are the human’s heads tilted to one side, as if dosed with viral load chaos seems to have completed what it set out to do, scramble the mind of mankind. Yes, we are too avoidant of sense as populations grow, but now world government is in a padlock moment and certainly stuck. Covid does exist but it is well scripted and presented with every expert in front of a selection of literary material to dumfound an average TV viewer, the mortality figures roll out in front of you. All nearly one hundred and fifty thousand now Boris can’t stop it. Next flu will be rolling to a town near you, never tested. More flu will make us pay more death will cull more of us, then there will be a break before 2022 and viruses will with other unknown new variants apart from so-called Covid bring the world down,and lastly, Boris Johnson and Co will be tried for crimes against humanity.

 

One Way Ticket

One way ticket to blank so my friends this is immortality the colour was black bleak, to say the least considering I was supposed to be no more further on a mass mess of activity, chatter a thousand miles away but non-audible in this outer state. What was left of emotion was like trying to ascend a verticle mud bank the faces at the top laughing. I didn’t know any of them they were not human I concluded I couldn’t go back so I wait for arms and legs as Jesus rotating in space to who knows where.

Political Rant DWP Representation at Interviews For Disabled

Warrior of Poetry warns the Department for Work and pensions will damage the lives of disabled at work capability assessments, they are trying to discourage having any representation at interviews leaving them vulnerable to losing the claim. Warrior of Poetry insists that all disabled people should have representation at these interviews. It is just one more example of how this Tory government is going to continue to bully the most disadvantaged of this island it must be stopped by any means.

And so a poem for the above.

I try to garner silence for that is all that fits, I am not seen, I am not heard. Contemplation and I see one bad apple, there is a basket of more products at the higher university systems. The big rumor is that doctors are being bought by politicians and giant pharma are used to maximize control and death, meanwhile, more than one hundred and fifty thousand bodies lay unburied in portable fridges but the top politicians will not be able to slither out of a genocide type trial next year…

I Can Join

I live for the time I can join the Devic kingdom in Turkers Wood so far they tease me the bush rustling is not just the wind, there are days when I see them and days when I do not.I am when track walking surrounded by life unseen by so many today there may just be a proud face in the bushes not much bigger than the largest stamp but the detail is spellbinding another rustle and more faces appear busy doing something, they are safe as most do not know they are there, they let me in from time to time but I guess that I have not completed my apprenticeship to join their kingdom in the wood.

On The Chain

On the chain, on the run going fast, I know no time for ghosts they slow me down thinking of who they were in the scheme of things they are a vacuous member of the hunter land. I will one day experience to one degree or another in the ghostly kiss of nothing and probably nothing more. I stop it is now silent,I ask myself is that it where’s the life has it really gone that far to now know nothing but I feel less and see little more as I pass through the portal in my shirt time.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive