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 Poem For Her Majesty Oh Mother of the Nation.

Oh Mother of the Nation.

Oh mother of the nation thy voice does last forever through all parts of this world, you are not a vision for thou art real as the sun in the morning. Radiant for as long as you are here, God bequeathed you to be amongst us for the duration of your life and your love of duty never lets us down. Smile on forever your majesty for you are real and the nation loves you.

Another Tub Thumping Poetry Round Up

Our Father

Our father we’ve been trying to find you in heaven, but so far we’ve had no luck waiting for
the cloud on the left till it passes by, but nothing happened. I got my brother to shout but you took no notice. He said to me “you must be seeing things and by the way say hello I’ve been dying to meet him, why did it take so long Amen.”

New to the Garden

New to the garden here is the cat in your Disney moment, sitting calmly he approaches, he doesn’t talk but the eyes are doing a good job. Shall I be nice to you today I shall soon find out. Well an answer short and not so sweet came along he put his paws around my leg demanding that I shouldn’t move without speech. A cats idea of control at a glance well I can’t do that I’d be powerful if I could sigh to the wilderness.

The Swallows Defender

I am the swallows defender for the cat is around sitting sprawled upon the ground eyeing the solitary swallow. The birdie frets to be back in the nest  where chicks wait, the swallow sits upon an old electrical wire and stares me out, I say hello there’s not a lot I can do. Meanwhile the cat waits but alas in vain no chicks falling today. However a plate full of dry food comes along happy kitty, the swallow thanks me with a wink, or is it my can of Eight Ace cider that causes me to see birds speaking.

Storming Into Summer With More Poems For You.

 

Blessed.

Did you know the Auras have a code of practice I walk along it seems unfriendly, the Aura it bothers me? So I wonder why, face after face passes me place after place a scowl of disapproval so this is the world now. So how do I survive I was told a way by an unknown master I cannot reveal he said “my son doesn’t look, keep walking, keep straight, and don’t pick up or take in the Aura of others and you will be fine and yes you will heal transmit your blessing to all who pass you, and you will be blessed.

The Breed

This is the year, the breed, the beards, the muscles all over the place the hypermasculine, expand and steroid terror moves in disturbed minds raging through violent England. Women are now like men and more than nasty. Peace is now a period of a dispute the resolution often death, when the beards are shaved off the peace will once again come and change will arrive. Pass me the jungle juice I am on the weights, oh did I not tell you I am one of them.

I Am A Spirit

I’m a spirit on day release, I thought I’d tell you this. I’ll tap you on the shoulder to let you know. I’ll squeeze your wrist I’ll touch your brow I’ll turn a cloud to blow on your cheek, I’ll stay awhile and then kiss your cheek to tell you I love you and then I will go followed by the most haunting wind you’ve ever heard. Whoosh it is I, there and gone. Yet strangely here trapped in my world and yours.

The Harvest

The harvest will come I know of that, the dictators are surrounded now their days are done, trust me. I know of this, the evil will break, the evil will drown, and an echo of laughter and happiness will be heard around the world. The vibration will be long until the bad has gone trust me I know. A day like never before will dawn the sun is for everyone love will be felt everywhere, my ears are different and soon you’ll know why soon you will know because I know that change will be forever.

Distorted

Were we ever our brother’s keeper look at us now tightly packed but with all the space in the world, no it’s territorial the mind of distorted humans going higher, or is it down and down to Hades. Seems like control but it is high and you might fall man is not a bird. Where are the minds when your garden is dead but a long way down, where there is no sense, there is no feeling and all that followed is nowhere fighting and killing government is down am I really my brother’s keeper too busy fighting to survive? God is on the back burner ready to explode now that’s atomic.

 

 

 

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive