religion – Page 52 – The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive

Britain Land Of Bullshit I Mean Brexit.

Let me make it simple for I am a humble soul but I have to say all these so-called Brexiters are they mentally disturbed. We had safety not perfection within the European Union, young people could move around freely, we had the working time directive protecting the vulnerable from being worked to oblivion and we still have a sense of being part of a cultural network that enriches minds and lives of the many and much more.

But now, in a no shit Sherlock moment, the right-wing Tories wish to save their lizard skins by dealing with communist China, a country with a terrible human rights record.
So I say who is principled enough to rise to the morals of this matter, I doubt that anyone will, as this government is essentially running to the tune of the property rich baby boomer and what’s left of wartime Britain. We really do need a portion of media that isn’t controlled by politicians and vested interest dodgy business people, from Mason’s friend Baron Conde and The Equine Police.

Stood A Man & His Young Daughter

In the southern part of a south Asia a country near a border that shall be nameless, stood a man and his young daughter the man’s daughter wished to attend the children’s party in the north beyond the wire fence and prowling dogs a green four terraced building sang the tune of pleasant times drifting across the sea of oppression.

There was a door and a smiling guard who held a note-book & let them through he instructed them that there was a children’s party on the third floor.

The father said “come little one we shall see what this is, you have nothing much to do this day and the snow is falling fast.”

Father and daughter opened the big black door and proceeded to climb the winding stairs nothing in the first room, just bare and cold with strange scratches upon the wall but there was laughter in the second room full of brightly dressed girls and boys but no food or music.

The father was in a hurry and so left the youngster among the rest, he went downstairs out and back over the border for a while as he turned back to the building he could see the outline of a bulky man with glasses
smiling.

The day moved on the father returned asked the guard with his little book to go north and to the big green house , the father entered slowly and climbed the cold stairs to the second room despair struck all the children were dead he panicked and
ran back down the stairs on his way through the door to the south he was stopped by the bulky man in grey coat and glasses, why screamed the father the bulky man turned smiled and uttered with a coldness, because we have no food.

Eastern Soldiers

Eastern soldiers by the sea a million or more, I clambered to the high ground in the city the nightmare of invasion had now appeared. Inside the huge hotel I went, I had greased all entrance points windows and elevated to the highest point of the complex. Occasionally peering across the vista to observe the encroaching mass of green uniforms, the number was increasing I headed for the tropical flat roof with its resplendent shimmering pool aware of my dwindling freedom.

I could hear the noise further down in the complex, I just hoped that they were not looking at the the power usage monitoring so I searched for the solar panels. Much of this city had now fled and the power base of the country had now ran, we had
courted the southern countries and now they had arrived, we were the last to be taken.

Now they were enveloping every space of this small island, trouble is that they have also located me, so I will sit here in my unreal world til my rooftop door is knocked down
and then I will see a million more goodbyes I am fading fast and at last a bullet found me fast…

New Britain

So I wasn’t wrong all along the line of thought, the new developments, the crammped spaces in designated areas. Self sufficiency had taken to new highs, we were becoming population heavy the undertakers couldn’t cope in the middle of civil unrest, the council couldn’t cope to the reaction, to their planning, unfinished housing, shit spinning in empty cement mixers. Everyone now did smell and the dying were dead, so came to pass the small oblong buildings.

They were between the once bright flats they housed the dead where undertakers feared to tread, this is new Britain, civil destruction society torn and burning a government in retreat MP had fled to hide this country in mutinous madness evil is the mistress
of the turgid toilet of a country where manners ( manners) is the name of a house.

GOD OF ALL PLACES

God of all places, God of right or wrong why is it left so there is to many opinions to count. Presidents versus peasants whose currency is the food they grow, but in the background you can hear the surge of
drums and cacophony of mayhem.

Surges of encroachment of disenfranchised million breeding to survive as of old, but someone has to .