Posts Tagged ‘Politics’

The Land of the Free quakes,
Disaster looms above,
Or so it’s said,
Many believe it to be so,

Neighbours look sideways at one another,
Rights become targets,
For the firing squad that is corruption,
Few tears are shed,
Even fewer protests are uttered,

Division and hatred,
These weapons of mass destruction,
Maybe orchestrated by a court of white,
Filled with a rogues gallery,
In business suits and colourful badges,

Led by something of a jester,
With delusions of grandeur,
Possessing a nationalist baton,
And a dangerous red button,
Poking the bear and dragon,

The time has come,
A red mushroom cloud erupts,
In the shape of a pachyderm,
The Land of the Free is no more,
The world is ending.

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A choice,
A risk,
Like the heroic charge of the Scots Greys,
The kind of high risk gamble,
That Scotland has both thrived upon and suffered from.

Unity is stability,
But independence is in the Scottish soul,
To rule over the lochs and fens again,
To live once more as Gaels,
To stand tall like Ben Nevis.

United or independent,
Westminster or Salmond,
Neighbours or partners,
Long live the highlands,
Long live the Scottish.

In my defence God me defend…

Scotland

New Monday.
New week.
Same old work.
Same old desk.
Boss is a bigot.
Bored of life.
Hate working at the warrant office.

Case-file 1.
First of many.
20 something female.
Artist.
No native family.
Boring.
Sentenced to termination.

Case-file 2.
Getting hungry now.
Young infant.
Found on the border.
Parents shot dead by security nearby.
Impressionable.
Sentenced to indoctrination.

Case-file 3.
Young foreign couple.
Boring.
Sentenced to termination.
Can’t wait for work to end.
Hate this tedious job.
Nothing interesting ever happens at the warrant office.

This red termination stamp is getting worn out too.

Redstamp

Oh little toy soldier,
Why do you cry?
Wooden hands held tight to your face,
Gluey tears oozing southward,
Unheard sobs in the toy box.

Oh little toy soldier,
What are you afraid of?
Build by corporate talons,
Driven onward by unfeeling authorities,
Led to fight for your spiteful toy box state.

Oh little toy soldier,
Grab your pop gun.
It is time to wage war,
On all of those other toy soldiers.
They are of different toy box colors.

Toy soldier

The world is an asylum you know.
Think about it.
The world is crazy.
You don’t know what anyone is going to do one minute from the next.
Everyone is unpredictable.
Everyone is dangerous.
Everyone is manic in some form.
We are all brothers and sisters in madness.
We are all inmates.

If God is real, he’s definitely head of a wing.
His followers blindly and obediently follow.
Preaching the words of long dead prophets.
Voices in the heads of the god fearing.
Faithful schizophrenia.

The banker too is an official of this asylum.
With his abhorrent condition called wealth.
He enslaves his flock with earthly desires.
Kleptomania for the masses.

Politicians would be wardens of course.
Fooling the inmates into obedience.
Flip-flopping opinions.
Flip-flopping personalities.
Multiple personality disorder governance.

We all must be mad.
Absolutely crazed.
We made the world the way it is.
Mad world.
Mad populace.
The world is our asylum.
We are all inmates.