Breaking The Curse

learned to live with fortune

in the realm of poverty

where poverty is relative and claused

reflecting on the ravens’

hard-hearted princes in their towers

counting crowns of peasants without pause

riches something finer

than gold coins or stocks and shares

weighted in the pans of wealth and worth

rebalancing the measures

by means of minutes, days and hours

tipping scales of justice where they’re cursed

Pavement Possibilities

It started just like many other nights

The moon was silver

Stars, merged with errant clouds

Could barely gleam

A lonely owl made much

Of covered darkness

Deserted perch in search

Of prey he’d seen

Still air was clear and calm

Vague scent of roses

Drifted on a whim

Of teasing play

Lungs filled with wonder, sights

All senses tingled

The ending

Of a perfectly good day

Suspected nothing more

My thoughts untroubled

Meanderings so vague

As to forget

Except for something niggling

As I wandered

How fleeting peace and beauty are

And yet

They’re everything that’s striven for

In a lifetime

The beauty felt in love

That knows no end

The comfort of compassion

Peace among us

The value of good neighbours

And best friends

Nothing more than musings

On a pavement

With home nearby

Some yards to reach the gate

When, out of nowhere

Moon and stars blinked, helpless

And shuddered

Ending peace and changing fate

In an instant, all I knew

All I remembered

Of peace and love and beauty

All that’s good

Lay shattered, in the ruins of craven madness

A blitzkrieg, from a neighbour

Chocolate covered

Relaxed, while orphans, widows, now all stood

I turned again

In absence of a reason

Hope blinded at the sights

That I surveyed

How, among the chaos

Was I standing

And what should be the message

I relayed

Hate filled my breast

The need for vengeance

Tragedy demanded

Some new cost

Escalated madness

Justified as

Revenge and payment

For all that I’d lost

I’d find a way to make them pay

For malice

For ignorance

For stealing what was fine

With nothing left to lose

I’d have my vengeance

In the terror that was given

I’d have mine

 

It started just like many other nights

The moon was silver

Clouds departed

Stars were visible

All peace and beauty

Love nearby, still cherished

The idea of a bomb

Quite risible

I met my neighbour then

While out in moonlight

A person hardly known

Her ways, mere guess

We ventured to establish understanding

In the glory of the peace

That starlight blessed

We chatted for a while

Found common kinship

In the children that we loved 

Sworn to protect

Two mothers

Finding harmony

On a pavement

No spectre of an ending to suspect

We turned, upon a whistle

In the distance

Far removed from where we stood

But still

Alarm lay caught

In throats of conversation

While men rule the world

It maybe always will

We stand upon the pavement

Facing judgement

Possibilities

Our Gabbatha

Innocent or guilty

Makes no difference

When condemnation comes

To where we are

Carpe Diem

Oh, ye saboteurs, of all that you survey

By lies and licence, pedal what you pray

Truth always find its path and come what may

Your end is imminent, prepare to pay

In honesty, you could have saved the day

But hubris holds and governs all you say

A tongue, so forked, forfeits the right to sway

Make ready now, an army comes to slay

In rectitude, for all whom you dismay

The tide yet turns, reclaims sands on which you play

On distant shores the voices have their say

And, closer still, we wait to claim the day

To others, seeking justice, fairer play

Make ready, be prepared, to seize that day

No accident that angst has found its May

A shelter here for all who seek a better way

Oh, ye saboteurs, who thought to have their way

The time shall come, be sure, we’ll have our say

‘Please invoke some parliamentary rule.’

Easier said than done when it turns out that devolved government isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.

We will not go the path the Tories seek to go.

The path that UK governments have chosen time and time again.

Against our will.

Against our vote.

Against our sense of morality.

A country that does not elect right wing rule will not follow right wing rule.

Becoming more right wing by the day

We will not.

Never.

Our history decrees it so.

Our experience underlines it.

We will have self-rule.

Independence.

We will make our own decisions.

Decisions based on collective good.

Decisions made by us.

Not on dictats selected for us.

Today.

Tomorrow.

It shall come to pass.

Carpe diem.

Never their day.

Never.

Seizing now the day that is yet to come.

The day that says no to their distorted idea of how we should live.

It doesn’t have to be that way.

Now may not be here but it is on the horizon.

It’s near.

Nearer for our children than for us.

Seizing for them.

 

I hate that the world revolves around economics.

Hate isn’t too strong a word.

Detest.

Despair.

I would rather leave the oil where it is and embrace renewables but even that is being undermined by UKgov.

Just as relationships between the nations here have been undermined for generations.

Peddling a myth that divides.

That we, here in Scotland, need England to survive.

We don’t.

But we have more than oil.

So did the rest of the UK till it was sold off to the highest bidder. Privatised under Tory rule. Then globalised to a higher bidder. Creating a rentier economy at the expense of infrastructure. At the expense of regions all over the UK.

I hate no one.

No one.

Sure, there are nutters here who do hate the English. Like they’re some collective breed. Same as there are nutters in England who believe Daily Heil lies about Scottish scavengers/traitors/cybernats. There are nutters all over the world. Hating on whoever they’re told to.

I repeat. I hate no one. Most do not.

If your papers tell you otherwise, you’re reading the wrong papers.

Listening to the wrong news.

My god, I wish it could be different.

But while we want what so many across these isles probably also want – a just society – it cannot be while our voices drown in Westminster.

Fifty-six MPs advocating change cannot compete fairly against hundreds happy with the status quo.

Cannot change what needs changing.

We have to begin here.

In Scotland.

In our own back yard.

We are a country, whether some acknowledge that or not.

Yes, it will be tough.

We know that change is tough.

But tougher yet would be complaining and not trying to change it.

I am working for the change I want to see.

Seizing the moments that lead to the day.

We all can.

Please do not give up. Wherever you are.

Please. Seize.

My heartfelt and sincerest sympathies for those in these isles who want what we want and cannot make it so by dint of no worthy opposition. Neither can we while tied to the UK. Arithmetic makes it so.

The kettle’s on. You’re welcome here.

And the weather isn’t as bad as you think if you’re from northern climes.

Purer Love

Silver mist suspended still in space

Starlit canopy supporting grace

Curtained void where glimpsed a softer face

Revealing purer love

A million miles, a million years from here

Enlightened voices from a different sphere

Another world that understands all fears

Revealing purer love

I know we haven’t found a way there yet

We’re here where we belong

But if we seek beyond and don’t forget

We may sing a different song

I would travel there if I could fly

Ask every question, expect no lies

I would do all this before I die

Seeking purer love

The journey of a thousand nights ensues

The restless yearning in unspoken dreams  

The reaching for another world and view

Where dreams are always what they seem

I could live there out beyond the stars

A world away from where we are

A breath between what’s known so near, yet far

Revealing purer love

With apologies to Bob Dylan and Adele. This is what comes of not actually knowing the words of a song that’s stuck in your head, while driving, so just making your own up.

Angels Required – Apply If You Dare

 

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Mayhem or monsters or weird creepy things

Fear angels with courage and bright, shiny wings

Who challenge all danger and vanquish the foes

Or turn on a light bulb to make the dark go

No shortage of ghouls that groan through the night

Nor dearth of big bullies that seek to cause fright

If angels are absent then what can you do

But grow a big pair and let them be you

No halos to speak of, no shimmering hair

Unused to flight travel when one needed where

Being a presence angelic would save

A supplicant’s heart who longs to be brave

A challenge before us when trouble ensues

Be monster or angel, a side you must choose

To be a bystander in the game that is played

Demons of dungeons will win, it is said

Imagine your wingspan, imagine your flight

Imagine the outcome if rules are played right

If angels are few in this realm of the dark

Where light merely flickers with barely a spark

A band of new angels need now must enlist

Intent and a signature all that is missed

Apply to the cosmos, apply to be one

Apply where one’s needed, it could be great fun

Intervention dynamic when folk need a hand

Can you be an angel who now makes that stand

No splendour, no bragging, but simple, serene

The dust of all starlight begotten, unseen

No payment, no kudos, but a swift spreading host

Being an angel where you’re needed most

Apply after thinking, apply when you’ve felt

That an absence of angels makes all hands worst dealt

Apply with all vigour, apply for defence

Go on now, you want to, you know it makes sense!

In a world of improbable, impossible knows

The quest for an army of angels now grows

Invisible, invincible, powerful pawns

Called into service to guide through till dawn

Essence of angel required today

Apply if you’re willing and do not delay

Posts are now filling but plenty to spare

Angels required, apply if you dare

Listening To Mikhail

When Mikhail says we’re making ready

That flags upon the charts are being laid

And our leaders posture, rhetoric unsteady

Should we listen to what Gorbachev has said

 

Should we listen to experienced survivors

To the experts who seek evidence and proof

To academics, historians and scientists

Who study past and future for the truth

 

Should we listen when the charities are groaning

Under siege to manage shelter, food

While governments can always conjure money

To weaponise our world for some vague good

 

When the friend within is demeaned and benighted

And tolerance is seen as enemy

When hatred escalates and is encouraged

Should we listen to what others maybe see

 

Should we listen to ourselves when twinges niggle

And reason urges calm and look again

Or should we just do nothing and make ready

To pursue a path that leads to greater pain

 

When the meanwhiles of the nations are unfolding

When the jigsaw picture’s starting to make sense

Should we listen, listen closely and decide to

Build no more walls and get down off our fence

 

When ex-leader of the ‘enemy’ proclaims it

Is it bluff and stuff to shrug off and ignore

Should we dismiss his words as fake and propaganda

Or should we listen like we never have before

Near Midnight

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A scrawl and the hand creeps towards midnight

A tweet and more seconds slip through

The timer of sand in an unworthy hand

So fragile and grains left too few

Harsh words move the levers towards midnight

Pushing them past where they’ve been

One fifty of seconds and counting

Chaotic is calm and serene

At two and half minutes till midnight

The world gasps and points at the hands

Nudging the minutes towards doomsday

Alarmed at posturing stand

Revoking all rights, pushing midnight

New executive orders denounce

Push the hands back with insistence

Resist what the trumpets announce