society – Page 2 – The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive

Poems Galore In Our Latest Warrior of Poetry Mega Poem Post…

Please enjoy our epic bumper posting of poems from the Warrior of Poetry legend in his own lunch hour.

When Words

When words are not enough the silence will do, who started this control business I ask, as much noise now. Bad things happen in the terra confusion, the accent on control. But it’s safe, it stays in my dark book of life I have visions and it comes out, the truth that is. That we are nothing and the plethora of words has made it all worse. I know those on earth that talk with a glance only so words are not wasted you saw them in the pub you know. They are not human.

I Rose High

I rose upon high to shake the clouds, I shook them a lot. I started another great flood, the waters rose the people panicked this was larger than war for this was change. Who am I for I am the great initiator no longer in the shadows my work is before you? I need not write for you can see well enough that revenge upon the bad deeds of an unknowing feckless man was his undoing, a smooth undulating surface was all that was left upon the earth and now for whoever can hear is the last living planet alas now gone was anyone saved I know not, but there are some faint voices including my own echoing across time.

Oh & The Last Sandwich.

Oh, when I was young there were places I was told never to go one was down a narrow track to where a large family lives, an isolated family from Eastern Europe. I recall settling after World War Two. There were many members of this family, I’d made my way to see my friend named Johnny I was not best dressed but that didn’t matter I needed a friend. Strong aromas emanated further down the track where the family rented a dilapidated old cottage owned by a feudal landlord, my friend asked me would I like a cheese sandwich the fool as I was and the horrible voice of my vain social-climbing mother was heard in my head, “oh don’t mix with those down the lane they are rough.” She would say, an idiot and nieve were I I then realized I had eaten the last cheese sandwich, it was an issue, I lost a friend and for the rest of my life, I remember Johnny and I wonder what happened to him. My hand had grabbed but did not ask, for that last sandwich, that was taboo, that was too much for Johnny.

L.O.V.E

L.O.V.E Love. Orbit Validation Entity all around us, it abounds, it is discreet but so much needed, we are searching but can anyone find the genuine hand to lead us to the divine light that all should bath in. Till saturated and absorbed to learn of divinity within gentle light,

In The Darkest Places

In the darkest places, summertime runs in your head, running in abandon, upon meadow after meadow jumping broken five bar gates along the way. Birdsong forever and trees tuned to the breeze this is all when we are down and worried. Let the sunrise, let us all heal and live with greater love in our troubled minds. When all around you is gone do not give your jewel away it is your passport to your next live stream and cosmic intelligence lodged within your mind and when the world ends you can bring it to the forefront of your mind, bring yourself to the gates of heaven it is your greatest earthly defence system it is the shining glory, it is your Pineal gland, your transfer to the eternal triumph.

The Dawn

The dawn of mind emanation control a world where speech is an irrelevance but a glance it will be and that is all the eyes of people will talk silence, all emotions will be dimmed to merely function all will be all the art of conversation will be gone totalitarian control is all, the plantings had begun.

The time it is limited we’ve saturated earth and used her bounty. The belief for the human to conquer that is now an absurdity, as nature takes over a deserted once human-occupied dwelling that is real invasive power, we breed without thought and we are all rivals. Tomorrow all will have to look up to it is the only chance there will be an opening above a giant portal a giant craft will descend surrounded in white energy the true day begins and by the end of an earth day only the gentlest of peacemakers were left and the earth would rest for a million years.

The Happy Reset

The happy reset it had to be, we couldn’t go on as unhappy we see no talking, no laughter, we should start with a smile then we should expand to banter and onwards. Forget the demonic appearance and regain clarity of innocence we may not like one another but spare just one day and try.

Before The Doves Fly

I would like to share some hope if Anyone can find some before the doves fly on their holy mission for peace. I think there are two of them in immaculate white. You will know of them as the shining white light that surrounds them is beyond me, and so it is meant to be. We retire behind this so we can observe the work of the white doves sent by the almighty. we never know if we cannot create peace for at least an eternity that of course is our wish, so shall it be as the wings flap and never falter till divinity is done.

Hows Your Cloud

How’s your cloud can I come over I need to get away on this day I’m weightless now I’m coming to visit you, I knew you would be there hidden from all in temporary heaven where some will wait. I look up at this moment a very white cloud is parting. I feel clean for this is pure, upon a cloud is where I found you and no-one has forgotten you, “hello gran.” say I, we are floating in heaven upon the clouds. peace, peace at last.

I Don’t Know

The thing with many minds you’ll never know how it’s fashioned I don’t know it commands under the winds of divine influence it knows not of you of evil well it’s stirring the billions as we were products of the will our time on earth is a finite matter we suffer not many are free to be we are told we are the creations of a God but that story is running thin.

The Room

The room eerily puzzling held great promise for those hoping for a cure firstly the scent, then serenity far away from any Madding Crowd the touch was rewarding, the touch vibration was all there was, and pulsing to the whole body was how this began happening I’m just guessing the touch must be that of the interplanetary divine, I must follow, I must seek.

Forthcoming Book & Poetry Round Up

Our Warrior of Poetry Ian, is assembling his new book with illustration, and you can catch Poetry Corner with the poems at 8.30pm every Wednesday on the Shindig Show at www.mightyradio.co.uk 107.9 FM in the Southport, Preston area. Poems of a Working Class Hero, the forthcoming book, stay tuned.

Life

Life, be joyous at this moment, at this time I found speech in the heavens, like a wise bird upon an illusionary branch. I sang of the joy, of being able to wake up and live another day. For this joy I made my mission and flew around in exaltation of the benevolences of the others. I never met those unseen that gave me life so I could sing my songs in praise of An Almighty.

Starman

I am Starman engulfed in purple magnificence resplendent to all in the space of spaces inner space in my mind I’m on it in it, legend in my own lunch hour, living it. The oval enclosure that is my craft, my space ship, my protector, my inner harmony, the divine creator I have evolved from Elton John & Rocket Man, I am now Starman. Play.

No Account

Taking no account of the time it flew by it was as if this was on purpose as it created a blur of confusion it was if I had imagined clocks spinning furiously towards control this seemed to be fast enough to make a blur the plot was thickening too many wars too many dying of bullets or virus the target for the thinning had begun as the Buddhist said to the earth we go the dust had hardly settled when a whirring began descending over chaos science fiction came real to kill or save we would find out invasion of the outers had begun with gold spheres leading the way.

Land of Pedigree Chums

England and the land of the pedigree chums but the gentry are catching up, refinements and acquisitions are all the vogue, and the accent is getting a touch affected each carries opinions of miniature dictator the problems are effected by the touch of a button the A Listers rule, and whose doing what to who and whosoever no-one cares. Its a pity your expensive car on four wheels represents you, but I have a secret, the old man goes by on the old bike guess what that was royalty going by because he has thirty grand in the loft, and I am scaling the loft ladder, when in Rome, reader, when in Rome.

How Tiny

How tiny we all are non of us were born in the sky no angel did we hang from no divine mother’s with open arm arms held us up there in a Theosophy sky panorama so why do we reach when we inevitably fall the earth owns us and consumes our all the wind gathers our collective dusts of death and relocates us grown again by rain on earth and the many facets of benevolent sun and wars say all about our lack of development that Wain’s by the day.

Don’t Pick Up

Don’t pick up dark energies from humans don’t look them in the eyes walk on keep happy with optimism inside all the waking time if you can you will sense a kindred spirit upon your track when you meet them and that is worth all dark looks and vaccous comment as the dark ones walk their nothings perfect but this may help

Retracing

Retracing the faultlines for the sacred state just so much is needed for our lives would be pointless if we couldn’t put things right ,so many sins so many disaters so pointless our lives become if we cannot mend part of turbulent history in disturbed lives despair occurs never to be Godlike and white pure but maybe the harmony and healing of the violet flame to bath in.

Poetry Round Up For These Troubled Times

Boxes of Light

Boxes of white light, seven boxes of white light, seven boxes of hope and joy, seven spaces of white light in the clouds. Please stay there, please don’t rain. I don’t want the pain. I will stay you’ll never be gone and I am not done with opening doors that you walk through. With a smile I can see you and just say hello I am here, let us open our boxes of hope.

I Breathe Out

I breathe out, the breath becomes yesterday, turning the corner ah that is also yesterday it has gone, unless you walk back in time, gone and yet we are in the moment, we are upon the earth the goodness terra bequeaths us each and every day, man has a lot to learn, let us in the moment learn anew.

A Hand

A hand for every occasion put it on, and you can get it on. I mean it is your day of course, warm and convenient. A face to hand and here it comes, a dull grey face. An ugly mouth full of promise, just try him on your right hand you will soon see you’ve got your hand full, OMG man you’ve got a world to save.

Pastel Atoms

A chain of peaceful, passive pastel atoms, whispering a trail around a troubled planet. Bursting in flames and destruction. It weaves before your eyes in a vast colourless sky, we inherit from the pollution of twisted human minds. Waking up day after day, the colourful weave of atoms grows stronger in a band across the atmosphere. Wider and blindly determined to land as coloured rain from lingering clouds to land in variant forms. With new spirit on a crystal clear day to form a colony anew to reignite the purpose of new human form, as super animals no higher than a slumbering element. In a new jungle flora of wonderous fauna.

Reflections

Reflections on glass divides us with it’s shining I see others I used to know, but cannot reach out even my fingertips won’t do for there is war. Much war, humanity reaching its ends overshadowed by smoke fire and death. What is tomorrow when we won’t see the the end of this day. Is this the price to pay for evolution for God has no grace, and just in case you wonder Gods work is all around amongst the fire and hell for again this is still war as it always has been among humans who never learn

A New Collection of Poems Just For You…

Forget

Forget and see what there is today, look to the horizon. Build in your mind anew, forget the dead and gone. It will serve you not, we are called by cold dark histories. When there is air now and things to see and do cast of the mind shackles, shake off the dust, walk, breath, pray. All the way. The change will come but only the will. Your will can change anything.

Nevis the Spider

The rise of Nevis the spider suckered in my room and a storm was revealing itself outside the twinkle and spangle of facets. Before I fixated was I, to the point of no movement the Tiffy bedside lamp casting a shadow or two in the chamber of the shadowed shack, but then along came Nevis the spider mini monster with all his legs. Six of the most versatile, the climbing small mountaineer on a mission in my room. Very slowly Nevis crept along like a professional burglar obsessed I thought I was clever until I observed Nevis the spider. I hope he found his way home with his Alien eyes to the coving corner in my winter room and into his safety net of micro steel web, a clever fortress of minute complexity.

Come In

Come in, take your clothes off there are no flies on us, brush everything away all this as the sun rises, sit down say a woman you cannot stand there, it’s not easy I promise we aren’t taking a rise from your presence. You have come here to disown yourself. I see the hairs upon your back rising, yes the world is in a pickle and as you are now nothing it will clearly stick upon your person, we have unity here in our vulnerable state, we suggest all leaders of the world be the same as us in one room then at least we can all laugh at how absurd we all are.

Cosmic Masters

Cosmic masters to earth control, the bricks are down, the great leveling has begun. Since the dawn of time property had been the demarcation of division between all people coupled with complicated religions. Control death and destruction steer the course of a link in the mind of man. A part of man’s mind required alteration for the vacant mind of man had caught the attention of the creator an energy cube far in the universe. It was time for change upon our known own falsities upon earth unable to tolerate one another. People had run amock greed being the priority that was all humans could think of, politicians had diseased collective mind protecting their forever land, an impervious mindset setting mere mortals minds into rage and hate. Status reproducing and fornication are the only damaging hobby body art becomes status and vanity explode. Cosmic intervention had become necessary so this leveling had to be, became known as the cosmic evaluation of people by the great master. Adepts upon earth had to breathe once more.

The Neutral Blanket

The neutral blanket that was the day when all the days crammed into one and they collided, time had been running so fast, it was as if time itself was running away. But to what destination the period in time seemed to be rushing to a conclusion. There was to be an intervention but it would not be of this world it had to come from another, I watched the sand timer from my chair with a fire blazing and wood crackling. Flames of personalities dancing shapes, visions, horrors, all in the mix tortured spirits too many to count shapeshifting in front of my hooded eyelids, I concluded that civilization which it is now had to go to sleep and depart its ugly history and upon the time of the morrow refreshing warm breezes would come and harmony with her friend peace would join in unity.

I Am Table

Lots of recycling going on as it happens thought about recycling myself wondered what would happen, first of all, I have to destroy myself and be broken into bits, an old friend dragged me to be remade but not sure how it would come out apparently I am now the first talking dining table I can even move ready for tea, how about that.

Sandpaper

Sandpaper upon granite, that’s where we are, the walls we cannot penetrate all too often at humanity’s loss. So many poor smashed against the wall absorbed in eternal soil lost under the plough, coming out as something else and the cold castles of pomp and indifference still stand on the militant ground leaving the meek and lonely sad, tell me where is the benevolent energy. God or is it eternity that rises and falls and the rest forever a timeless sea of peace.

Once Upon

Once upon a long time ago, we had a life, we had a show, we were in it we were there. The sun came out for the day we sat up without a thought and often just walked away. Now we are held down not able to move there is control the coercion of the evils, presents as a magnetic force nearly down to the last human. A few escaped but fear for their lives and some indeed live underground and can secretly walk to another world leaving all others behind.

The Little Lantern Peoples of Hanger Hill

The Little Lantern Peoples of Hanger Hill, we are now approaching the year three thousand, many world downturns later and the fashioned nature of the time is producing smaller peoples of what is left of a world, what is left of houses is little more than rubble to hide in. Food is a combination of the wild fayre, wild veg, and disheveled crumble. Warehousing full of water-soluble dry packet foods, water is now wells and dysentery is high. Public health down to the volunteer medical people now fighting over supplies. But there is a strange phenomenon upon a mountain hill on the edge of the Lake District or more correctly the edge of the North Yorkshire hills. It is a disused gliding school hanger with its sliding doors half-open upon a metal beam in the far corner of this hanger up to a thousand paraffin lanterns can be seen one small knobbly kneed strange human form can be seen standing in front of this lantern keeping warm as it states into this ok light and heated device most primitive. By eight PM a procession of stunted shadowy figures can be seen trailing toward the grey rusting building each being picks a now lit lantern and proceeds to form a circle within the hanger waffled chit chat I observe and then there is the whistle and shaped being called pointed hand and it’s hand goes through a gap in the grey hanger door to alight upon a higher hill. The thousand little lantern peoples must prepare so in procession lamps on they waddled out the big hanger door toward an Auric horn higher up the trail glowing deep and moaning in sound and steam the little lantern people marched in a train of light to the Auric horn.