The mind of maverick poet Mason Cult, grappling the hell of modern living, poetic despair and deep thinking. Mason at his most difficult and reflective moods in his fourth poetry book from the Peoples Republic of Yorkshire. Feel the anger as Mason battles against modern life or the modern hell of living as he often calls it. No matter how stressful life gets there is always time for poetry.
Tag: Coat of Arms
May Of Africa A Political Rant.
It is now May of Africa forsaking the intelligent agendas and concerns of Brussels, Mrs May prefers to seek trade with countries that have appalling human rights records including genocide to name one. BRITAIN has been trading with the continent of Africa for centuries, the pitfalls are known already to most, Mrs May is looking for a pleasant Brevity but there isn’t one and I have this feeling this woman and her chums will keep this economy going even if this mean concessions for people coming from all over this world, especially in the ares of housing and opening the gates to more foreign people swelling an already overcrowded country such as Britain. So watch this space. Trade with other countries respectfully but don’t make big waves of trading more exclusively with Africa British people don’t want to lose their identity we have had year on year of this we can’t even house people in this country as it is in the year 2018,
What Remains
The legacy of a strong presence, it had been a long time since we had visited a cottage called Cold Place, mud and dust, global spider webs over objects abounded the key turned a faltering mechanism.
A soft creaky push opened the door so heavy it had momentum of it’s own we lit ancient scented candles as we weaved through a cobweb menagerie of damp furniture toward two gentlemanly high back chairs that faced one another in gloom, with a black leaded fireplace we both sat cold in bold dampness but all the while a buzzing was a niggling away at our senses, profound as if some inevitable awakening was coming to greet us and it did, the fire combusted to life wind broke through, dry rot window frames all that was damp unfurled itself. Dry cobwebs blew sucked by a moving internal vortex the family wished us back.
Lets Tear Into The Sky
Lets tear into the sky what we got… a new life or a bloody big drop going up there gave me nothing, So I fell down again like love and despair tearing through the sheets of clouds I thought I could stay up there never to come down, where the angry voices and the dark corners coped with all that is hidden within us all, a world now in despair among the ruins of man.
New Balances.
Whatever happened to that familiar face, the one that went around the world-changing the direction of lives and deaths of millions, it was such a facade someone caught you unauthorised were they in the common mirror of man, your mask slipped and another world availed itself you are an alien, and the press were in that toilet you were alone exposed, so how do we inform a world in panic not to be alarmed.