Fear-o-phobia. Squish!

Triskaideka, arachno,

What kind of phobic are you,

Are you hiding a fear of the homos,

Islamic or immigrants, they’re xenos too.

Do you think that maybe it’s the Jewish,

Or perhaps it could be the blacks,

Scottish, Protestant, Catholics,

Any ethnic, religion; scapegoats we certainly don’t lack.

Might it be fear of being homeless,

Fear of no job,

Fear of pain,

Fear of trusting another,

Fear of believing again.

Could it be our politicians

Have a fear of failure, such shame,

Fear of losing their power,

No fear of losing good name.

I listened,

I’ve come to conclusions,

They’re working all fears we may have,

Fill them fraught, get them worried,

I’m more worried they’re having a laugh.

Common sense has left most departed,

Plain words are feared that speak truth,

Gobbledygook, statistics, bribes plain-sighted,

Paltry, unworthy, uncouth.

I have a fear with plain name,

That some may listen, not hear,

Not see, not know, not care to

Understand what’s their game.

Should we not fear not knowing,

A fear surely worthy of incredible note,

Instead of phobias – irrational, fantastic –

And mostly homegrown, learned by rote.

Fear-instilled politics and liars,

These two, fears of my own,

Watch thieves but can’t watch the liars,

Mantra ignored as I’ve grown.

Watch lies as lips move, unless checked,

Trust some but don’t trust them all,

Points scored, creative accounting,

Let them fear the game of own-goals.

Speak Greek, I’m understanding,

For the rest there’s ways to find out,

Panophobia, get public panicked,

Create fear of everything, leave no doubt.

Do I look like I’m bothered by spiders,

I’ve rid fear of creatures that sting,

But rats, however disguised, persist here,

Sewage dwellers with voices, my thing.

Eyes drawn to phobia unsettling,

See how they scurry, now stamp,

Squish and squash, wipe it up, that’s right,

Big fuckers vanquished, bedamned.

I’ll have my fears, we all do,

Irrational some, some we trust,

But don’t try to fill us with others,

Unworthy, uncouth, plain unjust.



Keepers Of The Family Jewels

P.1 Oops!

P.2 What now?

P.1 I think I’ve dropped the economy…

P.2 Fuck! Not again!

P.1 It wasn’t my fault. (whiny voice inserted)

P.2 Well, we know it wasn’t your fault! It’s no fucker’s fault…never is. Just remember that line. Spin it and do the best you can to clean this mess up. It looks like you’ve whipped a tablecloth out from beneath the Thanksgiving table….what a mess. And hide that broken gravy boat or there’ll be hell to pay with the keepers of the family jewels.

P.1 The Royal Family?

P.2 (rolls eyes) No, Joe Public. Very attached he is to small mementoes and little matters like traditions and the family table.

P.1 He’s half the problem. Always wanting more and needing taken care of. If it weren’t for him and all his welfare needs I could make a much better job of this.

P.2 Sure you could, handsome. You just keep telling yourself that. And him.

P.1 But it’s true! He’s always looking for a free ride and needing health care and wages and stuff.

P.2 Hmmhmm. That’s right, so he is. Cheek of him, eh? Imagine him wanting us to spend his money on stuff he wants. What a liberty!

P.1 Well, it is. He doesn’t understand the global, socio-economic, political spectrum…

P.2 Neither do you. That’s why you keep dropping the damn thing. It’s slippery. Just try to keep a firm grip on the handle and not drop it again…at least, for a while.

P.1 But it’s broken now beyond repair. (eyeing fragments on the floor). What will I tell them? What’ll I do? (desperate whiny voice)

P.2 (covering ears) Stop with the whining already. It’s painful to listen to. And, if Joe hears it, we’ll all be up the creek without the thingies.

P.1 (can’t help hmself) But, what will I say?

P.2 Make a statement. Here, I have one prepared…I knew this was gonna happen again. I’ll get onto the banks and corporations, have a word with the other masters and get a replacement gravy boat ordered.

P.1 (scanning statement) Oh, this is good….tightening belts, living within means, stringent measures…Although it seems a bit familiar…

P.2 (rolling eyes) Yeah, well it would do. You made the same statement last time. I just rehashed it for you.

P.1 Aw, yeah! D’uh! I’d forgotten.

P.2 Well, let’s hope Joe Public has. Let’s go. We have a country to run….

(mumbles) ….into the ground.

(lights fade to shadow)




You know the type.


Loves to screw your brain.

Messes your mind any way they can find,

Is hurtful and cruel.

Then does it all over again.


It might be an ex or a current,

It could be a female

Or male,

It should be someone

You best, or ignore,

Then their mindfuck might fail.


It could be a boss

Or a neighbour,

A colleague who won’t give you rest.

Or kids in the ‘hood

Who just won’t be good.

Think what to do for the best.


It could be someone in your family

With an ex

Who’s really a prat.

Help make them see that his dick’s really wee,

Then you can both

Laugh about that.


It could be a friend

Who’s no friend at all,

Delights in bringing you down,

Dump them.

No one needs that crap,

A ‘friend’ who makes you feel like a clown.


Whoever they are

Remember your mind

Is yours, not a fairground pot luck.

Demand they desist,

Ignore if you wish

Or tell them you’re having no truck…


Ah, you thought that last line

Just had to rhyme

With ‘luck’ and a word I’ve used before.

Ok, then, we’ll say it again.

No mindfucking here.

Close that door.


My banter is intended as humour

But the message is one

To heed.

No one, not any, known past or in present,

Has the right to

Mess with your heid!


It could be someone

Whose words are no fun

Or actions are designed to convey

Ridicule, stress

Sadistic duress.

Don’t engage then they cannot play.


It might be yourself

Who’s the culprit,

Battering away at your brain.

Ego destroyed,

Validity void

Stop it! Don’t do it again.


A flower with filaments tender,

Seeking to bloom

Where it can,

Nurture your mind,

Stuff others who find

Pleasure in ruining elan.


Give what is due

But whatever you do,

Keep your mind well intact.

Those who insist

On taking the piss

Should know a couple of facts.


Spirit of self is a wonder


A blessing two-fold,

But fucked with for fun

Is just not on.

Resist, persist, be bold.


It could be the politicians

Obvious I know,

That’s their art,

Assisted by media

And spin ,they begin

To screw your head and your heart.


Don’t fuck with my mind, you moron!

My head is my own!

Try that cheer.

Say it again till they believe it.

And then

Say it again, so you hear.

Video reading Mindfuckery

Rebirth Of Democracy

I have been reading so many posts on world politics at the moment. There seems to be universal disillusionment with the status quo. Systemic failure in how governments are elected and run.

Those who don’t ‘do’ politics may be excused. 😉 But, real politics is about ‘the people’. We are the people. Just sayin’.  You may now skip this page. 🙂

Had it up to here, it seems.

Politicians damage dreams.

Shit from high

To down below.

That’s not the way

It’s meant to go.


Servant doesn’t mean

You’re master,

Climbing up the ladder


Pushing others

At each rung.

Your voice first,

Your song sung.


An aria of fortitude

Speaks to others

Things of good,

Of nations all

Upon the earth.

Don’t they stink?

Time for



………..Labour with

Unending pain…….


……And shove……

Begin again.

……Gasp …….

…….And breathe…..

Sigh with relief!

New life born

And so belief


In all potential

If, with care,

We raise new child,

Remember where

Child of love needs

Parental approval,

Discipline, growth

Or else removal.


Freedom found in liberty

When liberty can mean license

To strut and brag, pontificate,

Shuts others into silence.

An x once more

Would mean a kiss

Instead of mark

To show they’re missed.


Voted out

By ballot box,

Click on internet.

This rocks!

Had it up to here

With some.

E-polls running.

This is fun!


Press a like

Or just remove.

At the end

This may prove

In whom we trust,

Who we approve.

Power, charged

With our lives,


Ongoing voting

Would despise

Those who thwart

All enterprise,

Hopes and

Dreams and



If adopted by

One nation,

Others may follow.

Watch this station –

Voting on

The internet,

Like and follow

Or forget.


No money then

To lead campaign,

No underhanded

Tactics gain

Market forces,


Oh, good grief,

They’d be so pissed!


I like my plan,

It has some merit,

Maybe we could

Name it ‘Ferret’,

Weaseling out

All sneaky natures,

Power hungry,

Not our saviours.


Just like Twitter,

WordPress, Facebook,

We’d all be members,

Take a look

At actions, words

Revealed by ‘them’

With ongoing reviews,

Just like OM


Did in Project O

Though smaller,

Opinionate or even holler

On forums

That discuss all news,

Share ideas

And points of views.



Thinking, feeling,

Sharing real life

And so revealing

Life in its raw

In many lands

So we may read

And understand.


Or do you think

They’d shut us down,

Claiming subversion

With a frown.

‘Access denied’

Would pop up then

On ‘Worldwidepress’

Not ‘News At Ten’


Where stories often

Don’t relay

The world we know,

Live in today.

I want to know

My fellow man,

And, if they know me,

Maybe we can


Reach a point

Where citizens live,

Who are prepared

To receive, to give

Some understanding,

Compassion, smile.

I’d like to try it

For a while.


Do you think

That if we dare

There’d come a point

When we wouldn’t care

About politicians

And their causes,

Writing laws,

Amending clauses.


Busy, busy


Power greedy,


Manic in their

Sense of worth.

Depleted patience.

I’ve had enough.


I’m such a blether,

This I know, but

There must be a

Better way to go.

Some refinement,

Might just work.

At last, we could sack,

Tell them to go to…….

………find employment elsewhere.


Video reading Rebirth Of Democracy

For The People

The Paperbook Collective welcomes contributions of poems, stories, photos and art. You may want to check it out.


Empty echoes in

Hallowed halls,

Glittering grime

On ancient walls,

Fettered to grandiosity,

Chained by resonating

Fine words,

Purveying promises.



Follow, Follow, We Will Follow……dah, dah, dah

Numbers are a funny thing with only ten small digits.

0 up to number 9, attached to little widgets,

Reflecting much but not at all

For though they disappear,

It doesn’t mean an alien

Has suddenly appeared

And grabbed all people by their neck

And whisked them clean away,

I’m sure these lovely people are

Still at work or play.


It reminds me of when bankers said

That money had all gone.

Well, that can’t be true. Who’d burn it

Or why? They’d be stupid or forlorn.

The only answer I can see

For both, if there’s a reason,

Is someone’s hidden sacks and hoards

And plans on open season

For festive days with others’ stuff.

It makes me sick,

I’ve had enough

Of little games that people play

Or programs that

Go weird, astray.


I’m not too fretful of the ‘follows’,

No doubt it will be sorted.

I’m more concerned with politics

And how truth is so aborted.

Jiggling numbers nought to ten

Counting up then down again.


Looking for an honest one

A political superhero

Instead we get a load of rot.

We’re forced back down to zero.

I’ve said it once,

I’ll say it twice.

People don’t just melt

But, lucre? Well that’s different

You get the cards you’re dealt.

How sad to say that fiscal goals

And elaborate accounting

Destroy the truth and hope for some,

Leave honest citizens doubting.


Just to finish, let me say

If I’ve followed you before

And it looks like I’ve abandoned you

I’ll come knocking at your door.

Fickle, not is in my plan

But then that’s only me

I never really learned to count

Much more than up to three.

One for good, two for bad

And three, somewhere between.

All the rest is calculus

Not my forte, you will glean.

Place value I can understand

And find it fascinating,

But lying politicians, bankers,

These I find disgracing.

Just sayin’. 🙂