In the days when the exception they say
doesn’t need correction.
we are all creative
but some have it beaten out of us
at some stage
the war the exceptional person rages
is either to have their words heard
or to keep their creative side alive
and not have it brutalised or strangled
an Angel or messenger of light
has to fight to maintain their angle of light
and their perspective and sight.
When billionaires are sitting on more money than a lords hoard
and their money is in a tax haven abroad
can a billionaire work harder than overstretched nurse?
and the nurse has to go to a food bank because of their empty purse
It’s exploitation of peoples hard work.
Hanging on the cross
collecting the dross
on the doss
the dole,
of having a soul
what are we but clay pots collecting water?
no we are more and always have been
the views we have seen
the rhythms from the heart
the frequencies of our words
the skies, the birds
the moaning of love making
cell division shaking
through separation
like salt dissolving in water
and yet we are sons and daughters
trying to identify with our identities
yet eventually returning to the soul we came from
our bodies returning to dust
but our soul remains
in the Everglades.
If humanity stood for kindness
not for the awful blindness of thinking they were better
if love entered our hearts and we wrote love letters to the earth
in the form of actions and weren’t distracted
and cursed.
then I wouldn’t be a Poet against humanity
I wouldn’t ask questions about our collective sanity
I’d only ask for love and peace
for life is unfair but we are beasts.
If we evolve into beings of light
then we must ask ourselves to fight
for to preserve justice
for that is humanities only hope.
Tired in the daytime after having a good nights rest
being tested all the time by voices which are more than a pest
depressions iron curtains are coming down again
I am in the Misty mountains of pain which I climb daily
and my assailant is attacking me with delusions and fearful paranoia
I think the only hope is to battle with things that can destroy yah
I can sometimes withstand
But the terrible gravity of situation is hard for me to even understand…
No matter how you change the font
words stay the same
I know I am not your type, am I to blame?
I could be made of muscles with six pack and broad shoulder and arms of Steel
but I am not
I could be a scientist with a silver tongue eloquent or just very well hung
I am me there is only one version of myself
I can’t change
or rearrange
I realise my limitations
I won’t be able to perform and act as an imitation
I am who I am
Love me or let me go
for its you I love I know you know!
The great reset
Another life that we regret
internet slaves
Jesus saves?
not when we entered into a user agreement
we didn’t read
life bleeds mini micro chips
and the rich
have globalised our living rooms
with listening devices
they have loaded dice
playing with our lives as toys
Whether we are scared little boys
or frightened little girls
ours is our world to lose
frightened to lose or drop our black mirrors
and life is losing freedom enough to cause shivers
while A.I sizes us all up
and drink from the cup
of internet fake news
while we are all enslaved
and nature is destroyed In the smog
of our tortured histories.
All that remains
is the pain of knowing…
There’s magic in your skin
I want to hold you
my cold, bold heart wants to grasp
your hand
make you understand.
We are possessed by a spirit and it’s yours
for there is no cure for love
except drowning in it.
I ate an apple it reminded me of the sinners tale
but love in a garden cannot fail
if talk and walk again together
I know that the illusion of separation can be severed.
Rigged systems
Wall Streets rigged
financial system
the pistons
and cogs
a well oiled machine filled with smog.
A joke, quantitive easing
pleasing the rich
tax breaks and evasion
philanthropy
for white Caucasians.
The system will never benefit
people on dole
losing their soul,
or the disabled
hide your ableism
and stable rules
for this worlds justice
is injustice
and we are fools.
Kitted out with system
that resists change
new world order
shift of power to billionaires
we just churn out blank stares.
Charity the modern guise
death of belief, no god, or surprise
so there is only being famous or rich
To aspire, the death of independence
Set fire to books teaching socialism
or different ways for society
its rigged,
and it’s too late to learn other ways to live.
As propaganda spouts over media
seedier than other lies spouted forth
we won’t be heard over fake news’s discourse,
the ones who shape our lives the 1%
will enslave the 99
and in the system will be written the rules
that enslave us fools
for the internet which was promised to set knowledge free
we lead to down fall of the majority
who data has been mined
and undermined
for all to see,
And we still won’t acknowledge a rigged system of humanity.
I wish I was so handsome I’d appear in GQ
but if I took off my clothes I’d face ridicule
I wish I my eyes were blue skies
I wish I set women’s hearts on fire
All I have are words
poetry
may trickle from my tongue like a tap
but I am not a male version of a honey trap
I may in some ways be wise
but people may want to keep their eyes closed
but I suppose every truth is like that when exposed.