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

S & M Games

I was taking a well-earned rest that extended a bit beyond what I intended. Thoroughly enjoying it too. Been to Spain and back again. Been over the border and back again. Trying desperately not to comment on the farce of British politics…I’ll say this and then I’m going back to R&R. I need it.  Sorry I’ve not been into anyone’s sites – never thought I’d be so long absent from blogland. I daresay once I’ve replenished my oomph I’ll be back. Just had to let you know that we’re not all arses.

Thigh-high boots, leather corset

Whip hand cracks and snaps near ear

Ricochets, reverberations

Dominate, try to measure fear

Public school boys, petted puppies

Petulance, moral poverty

Bankrupt conscience, fixed agendas

Ambitious failures shed no tears

Tricks and lies that colour pages

Carrots, sticks and donkey rides

Asinine with self-absorption

Peek-a-boo, expose then hide

Decisions based on fear and fortunes

Games they play, monopoly

Snakes with ladders, swings and sliders

Risk and run mid jeers and cheers

Children all, without exception

Raised with silver spoons in arse

Rhetoric undemocratic

Bully boys, elected farce

Run the countries like a brothel

Prostitute the populace

Whip to frenzy, S&M games

Governance of world disgrace

Rules we live by

They dismiss

Changed mid-game

Really take the piss

House of cards

With loaded dice

None virtuous

We’re held by vice

Tokens, tickets

Buy your pass

Swallow mouthfuls

While they laugh

Independence, vows they promised

All exposed as project fear

Truth lay shackled, cuffed, spreadeagled

Cats with nine tails cost us dear

Domination detrimental

Determination, never more

Sneering snobs, robotic gargoyles

Time to even up the score

Keep your mind games, carnival

The whole shebang, corrupt cabal

I’ll take freedom with vanilla

Straight talking Scots with evidence

Let the whorehouse knaves all tumble

While they scrap and flaunt and flounce

In disarray and deep division

Casting lots to ferment hate

Queuing up to take the whip hand

Welcome to Westminstergate

Masochists, sadistic pleasures

Name your game, they’re all for sale

Ignore the world that heaves in turmoil

Pimp your ride while people wail

What we’ve come to, what a mess

But, hey ho, folks, it’s all illusion

Games they play while they undress

 

Twiddling Knobs

Cut from the same cloth,

Poured into a mould,

Flippant in excesses,

Warm words written cold.

Fine-tuned with a dial,

Ear to hear the clicks,

Turn, turn, got it!

Enough to make you sick!

Agenda’d to the hilt

With a dash of silken voice,

Clones, in cloistered tower,

Drowning in white noise.

History rewritten so soon,

By the boys that live in back,

Twiddling knobs – yes, knobs, I said,

I’m glad I have a … different body part.

 

Although, admittedly, some of those who do,

Twiddle knobs too.

Burnt Offerings

They took the lies and mixed it with a dosing

Of verbiage, badinage and dirt,

Boiled it up then simmered, prepping table

For a serving of the meal that shouldn’t hurt.

They burnt the pot while raiding through the cupboards,

Contents spoiled, carbon charred by fuel,

Still served it up with flourish, sleight of handling,

Scurried back to scullery, laughed at fools.

Dining on the premise of the promise

Of banquet advertised with cabaret,

Falsehoods, tongue-in-cheek, a token lie then,

Distorted to confuse and cause delay.

Beware the cooks who curry for your favour,

Who season dishes to the taste desired,

Appetising, tempting in description,

Swallowed whole, patrons’ promises expired.

Fire in belly, gurgling with the poison,

Antidotes are found, administered,

Never more believed, proofed in the pudding,

Sweetened bitterness of empty words.

By Grace And Understanding

In peril cast they on the shores of deserts,

In buoyant form but stranded in surrounds,

In self-belief and blind by knightly errand,

In cavalerie, air to hostile ground.

 

On many fronts battles being waged,

On lines at home, in civic buildings wide,

On streets and minds, in military promise,

On internet, fighting side or side.

 

With truth and lie, many weapons wielded,

With might and strength and cunning subterfuge,

With media encased, pursuing agenda,

With tortured souls, pain raining as deluge.

 

In time the message alters, takes on meanings,

In hearts of those united in the frame,

In all of history, same brothers form, united

In common cause and called by blood and name.

 

By change of minds and people centric action,

By understanding why these ways embraced,

By dealing with the core of propaganda,

By altering the way the race is graced.