Posts Tagged ‘Political’

Such childhood dreams I remember,
Of artwork and vividity,
Smiles were the way,
But then the conveyer belt fired up,
Careening me through a decided life,

It appears to this dreary soul,
That a lifes worth,
Such as it is,
Is merely based upon ones employment,
Dollar and stirling signs,

To contribute is just of course,
But life is not purely about what you can give,
In terms of finance,
We should follow Euphrosyne,
Not remain serfs to Plutus,

You are what you earn,
Does a bad back,
And a full pension,
Mean a life fulfilled?
Should respect be dependent on vocation?

We live to work,
And work to live,
But what about the end?
Will I too have to build my coffin?
Dig my own grave?

Each leader has a war chest,
Paid for with blood and limbs,
The gold of the chest,
Pounds and dollars and roubles,
Minted in hells flames,
Emblazoned with skulls grinning,
Baying for oil and miles,

The true fuel for warfare,
The ammunition of conflict,
As the chest opens its charnel maw,
Arms dealers rub their hands,
And children cry in droves,
The drool of the chest,
It looms over free lands,
And shadows of bombs fall soon after.

I’ve seen the elite,
A cartel of tuxedo players,
Vultures around a board held aloft by we the people,
They play monopoly above us,
Playing for borders and lives,
Among red buttons and whiskey,

An oligarchy of a smoking room,
Perfume of toxic fumes,
Product of industry,
A effluvium of poor mens moans,
Sounds of pickaxes and canaries,
Walls of blood diamonds,

The pieces are made of flesh,
Shaped like batons and warmachines,
And cry for help as they shift,
Beholden to old men,
Liars in chief,
Tycoons of trepidation,

They have played this boardgame for centuries,
From pyramids to railways,
From aeroplanes to the moon,
We have been pawns for too long,
What happens if we all stand up?
And knock their game over.

When my mind wanders,
Satchel in hand,
Along that silk road,
Passed borders and ideologies,
To those far eastern lands,
I cry tears of cracked sapphire,

My pleas may be silent,
But they are well-meaning,
Please reconsider,
Why not be a peoples republic,
For the actual people?
A land of plenty,

Such an elaborate and beautiful culture,
A land of swirling dragons,
A survivor of eras,
You should share your ways,
But not through a lense of conquest,
Join the party,

Is building a world,
With smog and meat wagons,
Wet markets and pointed heels,
With tear gas,
And censorship,
The only way for you?

Do you hate us so much?
Is control that important?
Are the parades of pride or of intimidation?
That great wall of yours,
Is it emotional as well physical?
Is it a bulwark against humanuity?

You’ve survived tyranny,
The burning rays of a rising sun,
And the hordes of mongolic composite bows,
You can be better,
A guardian spirit,
A watchful red dragon,

Please reconsider,
You can be better.

I see the flag,
That old ensign,
But I do not serve it,
A flag is mere fabric,
A textile icon of the past,

Preach not to me,
Of patriotism and servitude,
Of loyalty and treason,
Of fealty and monarchs,
I shall not heed you,

I am not my birthplace,
I am not your history,
I am not your hate,
Your bigotry or your intolerance,
I am not the empire,

I’m a human,
Not a nation,
I’m not here to entertain you,
Not going to fight for you,
I march to only one drum and flag,

That of the human heart,
That of humanity.

A tyrant sits atop an ivory house,
An avatar to some,
A fiend to others,
The suit speaks,
Yellow eyes widened,
Red horns protruding,
Impersonating an altruistic deity,

The tweets fly,

He slams the world into his podium,
As if to give credence to his decrees,
Exploit the land,
Kill the poor,
Coddle the elite,
Ridicule the allies,
The edicts spew among hellfire,

The tweets soar,

Does he desire the apocalypse?
A demonic want,
Still clutching the lectern,
Belching hate into microphones,
Furnishing barbed wire to the lowly,
A servant of the people,
Who views only himself as a person,

The tweets burn.

You would think that flags were holy,
Sacred relics,
How they are so worshipped,
Visible at all the rallies,
Leading all the armies,
Do people not realise,
They are simple crass fabric?

Flags are living things they say,
Flying around on the wind,
They squawk things like,
“You win!”,
“Here be friends!”,
“Leave me be!”,
“Here be dragons!”,

All manner of divine symbols,
Pennants of myriad beliefs,
Flags of nations past and present,
Ensigns of every shade,
Some are benign,
Others are oppressive gods,
Worshipped by churlish bigots,

Flags perform for all who gaze,
People elate at their wistful dances,
They are both cherubs and incubi,
Performing in every hurricane,
But alas,
I tell lies of course,
They are simply soulless fabric.

We lost a man today,
I did not know him,
But i’ve heard his story oftentimes,
Police stops and biased chains,
Run down underdogs of colour,
Undeserving of vitriol,

Despite a merciless knee,
From an agent of racist divide,
He has risen,
To become more than himself,
An icon,
A catalyst,

Despite his past,
He has become a black knight,
Perhaps a ronin,
Not born to silver spoons and equality,
I’ve heard his story oftentimes,
He is every brother and sister beaten by blue hands,

Through his sacrifice,
To a cruel unfair world,
Equality has gained a new warrior,
There have been hosts before him,
Learn their names and stories,

Rest in peace now,
You face and life shall shine on,
All lives may indeed matter,
But some need our assistance,
Our vigil,
So let us preach black lives matter.

The internet,
A wondrous thing,
Mankinds ultimate achievement,
Turned to all manner of both evil and benevolence,
Is it an information matrix?
Or is it information supervision?

Trust not those who control speech,
Dark forces,
Shrill tweets of birds of prey,
Updates on a thousand-faced tome,
Pornographic cyanide to be injected,
Assembling an army of automatons,

Are social media giants corporate necromancers?
Because they practice mastery over dead minds,
We crane our necks to gaze at the screens,
Even the most astute of us,
Like zombies,
But we only rot within,

Those radio towers,
Icons of duplicity,
The old adage declares,
Knowledge is power,
But is this knowledge impartial and sincere?
Do you spread discourse or discord?

Before this year,
This turn of the sun,
This roll of the dice,
The world was a fragile place,
A utopia on a faultline,
Held up by infirm chains,

But now,
Atlantis is falling,
The end days come,
And the waters of discord rise,
The waves lash hungrily at our cities,
The sea consumes all evil,

A virus stalks the elderly and weak of constitution,
The world brought to its knees choking,
Madmen and dictators rule with hateful fists,
Bigotry and nonsense from a birds beak,
Innocents are killed in the streets,
By good guys with guns,

Our Atlantis is falling,
The golden towers brought low,
This year has broken us,
The waters surge,
We will all drown,
The sea consumes all evil.