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I can make the earth stop in
its tracks. I made the
blue cars go away.

I can make myself invisible or small.
I can become gigantic & reach the
farthest things. I can change
the course of nature.
I can place myself anywhere in
space or time.
I can summon the dead.
I can perceive events on other worlds,
in my deepest inner mind,
& in the minds of others.

I can

I am
~~~

People need Connectors
Writers, heroes, stars,
leaders
To give life form.
A child’s sand boat facing
the sun.
Plastic soldiers in the miniature
dirt war.  Forts.
Garage Rocket Ships

Ceremonies, theatre, dances
To reassert Tribal needs & memories
a call to worship, uniting
above all, a reversion,
a longing for family & the
safety magic of childhood.
~~~

The grand highway
is crowded
w/
lovers
&
searchers
&
leavers
so
eager
to
please
&
forget

Wilderness
~~~

Now is blessed
The rest
remembered
~~~

A man rakes leaves into
a heap in his yard, a pile,
& leans on his rake &
burns them utterly.
The fragrance fills the forest
children pause & heed the
smell, which will become
nostalgia in several years
~~~

Sirens
Water
Rain & Thunder
Jet from the base
Hot searing insect cry
The frogs & crickets
Doors open & close
The smash of glass
The Soft Parade
An accident
Rustle of silk, nylon
Watering the dry grass
Fire
Bells
Rattlesnake, whistles, castanets
Lawn mower
Good Humor man
Skates & wagons
Bikes
~~~

Where’d you learn about
Satan- out of a book
Love?- out of a box
~~~

night of sin (The Fall)
-1st ***, a feeling of having
done this same act in time before
O No, not again
~~~

Between childhood, boyhood,
adolescence
& manhood (maturity) there
should be sharp lines drawn w/
Tests, deaths, feats, rites
stories, songs, & judgements
~~~

Men who go out on ships
To escape sin & the mire of cities
watch the placenta of evening stars
from the deck, on their backs
& cross the equator
& perform rituals to exhume the dead
dangerous initiations
To mark passage to new levels

To feel on the verge of an exorcism
a rite of passage
To wait, or seek manhood
enlightenment in a gun

To **** childhood, innocence
in an instant
Marilyn Heavens Oct 2018
Twenty third June twenty sixteen
The biggest vote we’d ever seen
Results are in and Brexit win
and many say it’s such a sin
Those who voted not to leave
This news they just could not believe

Sore losers showed their  bitter anguish
soon from Europe we would vanish
Let’s vote again remainers say
'No vote again' says Theresa May

Our country voted in or out
and voted out without a doubt
The apple cart tipped on its head
Britain in Europe would soon be dead
Now Brexit was born the following morn.
This beautiful kingdom from Europe be torn

Remainers are mad while leavers are glad
Great Britain is out there is no doubt
So shut up remainers, accept what is done
We voted together and Brexit won
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret,Kenya;[email protected])
This essay is based on the observation research that had been carried out  by a social research firm in  Eldoret, Kenya, in the preceding six moths, which has been concluded on 30th January 2014.I the writer of this essay was among the lead team that carried out this study.We unobtrusively observed two thousand University graduates from east African states of Kenya,Uganda,Tanzania,Rwanda,Ethiopia,Sudan,and Burundi plus a few form some parts of Congo .Our target population of two thousand graduates was used under the guiding assumptions that it would help the study to arrive at water tight social conclusions.Our problem of focus was that ;why are male graduates in east Africa not marrying fellow graduates but instead go for marital partners who have substantially lower education qualification and even academic achievement.
The conditions of serendipity was also encountered and taken care of , when we also deviated from the natural social settings and charted with our digital social media friends who were approximately two thousand as well.They were digital social friends from Facebook and twitter digital social platforms. We  posted a thread in question form that ; if you were marrying today , would you marry a girl you graduated with the same year? Eighty percent of the responses to this thread was no , only twenty percent was yes.
The actual situations in an empirical experience is that male graduates prefer marrying ladies who stopped schooling in high school,and male high school or diploma college graduates prefer marrying ladies who don’t have clear high school education.And male primary school leavers prefer marrying ladies with inferior social positions like those who come from poorer families or from different tribal communities that are geographically, economically or culturally disadvantaged.
And in case where a male graduate dares to marry a fellow graduate , the dominantly observed social behaviour in this juncture is that ; the boy will go for the girl in a different school or faculty that is perceived to be inferior within the university academic climate.Like a student of medicine or law will go for a girl doing education or any University course perceived to be inferior.But the observation  produces insignificant cases of where a medicine student daring to marry a fellow medicine student.The minor cases of where a medicine student dares to marry a fellow medic will only take place in a social fabric that the male student at fifth year level will go for a girl in first year.Still there is a social tilt.
When we asked for reasons in a non-obtrusive manner from our unsuspecting respondents.We got both positive reasons and negative reasons.The positive reasons our respondents gave are that in most cases girls who don’t make it to the university happen to be more beautiful or their physique is more sexually appealling than those ladies who make it to the university.when we projected this type of reasoning , we also found that ladies who are in schools like education,journalism or any other school perceived  inferior in the cultures of the University are again more beautiful and more socially enticing than the girls doing University courses like law ,medicine or engineering.One of the respondents made a socially outlying remark by saying that girls at the polytechnic or certificate colleges are usually light in the skin,**** in character and blessed with big or pronounced bossoms than ladies at the university.
When we asked the negative reasons , our respondents argued that  ladies from the university are not controllable,neither are they prepared to be controlled come even the marriage. Further argument for these behaviour by male  graduates is that the University ladies are sexually exhausted,As they usually stay with a man in the hostel or in the cube during the four or the five years of their live at the University. Some even live with different men interchangeably, after which they divorce those many on the graduation day.Another response is that University ladies have a proclivity towards social hangout behaviours like smoking ,pinching or revving in the wine spree and loving the pocket but not the owner of the pocket.
This social phenomenon have imperative concerns that there is high level of genetic mismatch through marriages in east Africa or any other part of the world which east Africa can be socially generalizable to in such particular socialization.Graduate ladies are often forced to marry as second wives , or marry non graduate husbands or stay as a single mother but playing a mistress somewhere, a social behviour described as mpango wa kando or chips funga in the the east African Kiswahili parlance. Such social encounters have a long term consequences of fettering the genetic potential of the family in terms of  academics.When we conform to a warning by an eminent American psychologist that ; ninety percent of academic brilliance is contained in the genes but not influenced by environment we then obviously concur with the findings of this study that if a graduate marries a graduate there is a guarantee for academic performance among the offspring , but where a graduate marries  a non graduate ,  academic performance among the offspring is either mediocrous or probabilistic.The findings of this study also fall in technical tune and intellectual tandem with the observations of Lee Kuan Yeow in his book; From the third world to the first world in which he pointed out that; failure by the male graduates from  Universities in Singapore to marry the fellow female graduates was an impeachment to development as the ultimate consequence of these social behaviours is unnecessary inhibition of good genetics at a macroeconomic level.
The conclusive position of this study is that University leaderships in Africa, with a particular focus on east Africa, must inspire new University culture that has a turnaround effect on this behavioural status quo.The reality is that male graduates behave like this out of a dominance syndrome not out of anything technically worthwhile.Kindly , let our graduates change their marriage behaviour so that we can substantially protect our genetic advantages.

References;
Lee Kuan Yeow; From Third World to the First World
Alexander K  Opicho, is a social researcher at Sanctuary Research agencies in Eldoret, Kenya.He is also a lecturer  for Research Methods in Governance.
Simple string slips through, complicated fingertips.
Wishes, desires tied into the shape of, a single red balloon.
Thumbing a ride on a Sunday breeze,
Surfing its way over tops of rooted trees.

Winged aerialists delicately balanced on mirrored water,
The leavers dance, front row for a final show.

Doing what I can never find the courage to do,
Slip away, uncharted destination.
Through ragged linen flowing in the sky,
Past the saffron fireball,
Cautiously placed beyond the horizon.
Michael Hoffman May 2012
It doesn't matter
if you die petting your dog
or prowling the freeway,
you will always hear a whoosh
when you go up into the sky.

And the next thing you know
you are in deep space
walking along an old stone bridge
suspended in endless star soup
with all the latest earth leavers
and you think -
omigod those stories were all true.

All eyes gaze  
transfixed by a celestial diamond
bigger than the Great Pyramid
suspended in blueblack emptiness
pulsing with music you recognize
but cannot name.

The old man beside you says
we are not in heaven
this the line for the trip
that goes into light.

The diamond hums  
everyone's kundalini rises
and one by one
each person reaches the end of the bridge
and steps off into the vacuum of space.

They waft down like leaves
grinning like children on a merrygoround
coming to rest on the diamond
then slowly dissolving into it
and they disappear.

But they quickly reappear
bursting forth from the diamond's tip
as sparkling cherubs
caressing a billion luminous suns
each one another ride
on a celestial road trip
that never ends.
This image came from a meditative vision.  Makes me wonder, hmmmmm, I'm 66 years old.  Am I going there some day before too long?  Hope so.
Liz Anne Dec 2013
Lovers
become leavers and
leavers' love
is the strongest I've come to know
you who would ask me my
secrets
but not take care to see
why
they were kept
did you follow my fingertips across your skin
they were
graceful
when I had no other grace to offer you
you
who asked to know me when my smeared painted
lips whispered
that love and understanding are
far
too often separated by knowledge of the secrets you
in your only
naivety sought
to know.
J Jan 2012
The doors shut, cold echoes
No more warm bed, and no longer home

To journey through groves and streams and beaches
Now not to be alone

Test, a test, a test
Here to find rest for
all the comers, leavers, stayers, goers
For the ****** and the divine

A warm fire, a sip of wine
This all, it shines so bright
Warm light in a dark world...
LACS Feb 2011
Sisters can be difficult creatures,
The towels left transforms me into a preacher.
They combine and plead that it wasn't either- of them,
Defending that they are benign and not leavers.
But I do not accept their lines, I rebut them and decline
What they are feeding me and a desire to confine them- overwhelms.
But instead of convulsing into a seizure or giving in to something malign and of a devious nature,
My words become fiercer as I deliver my "bottom-line"
To those rascally creatures that I wish to refine.
Yet I can hear features of mine, in their voices, before I was their keeper and only nine,
And it made me realize that I, too, once was a creature and not fully defined.
Calming down I enshrine myself and become a wistful dreamer.
To have things I've made stay made would be sublime, and so much cleaner.
And so- in my confines dreaming of refined sisterly creatures, I recline.
Alas, being a teacher makes me want to lie supine.
Silly-ness brought on by small siblings. Oh how easily they can destroy what you have just done =P.

D-G G-***
It seemed so fitting a windy morn
saying goodbye to a friend
the draped coffin looked splendid
always kind words a smile
for him nothing bad ever said
he leavers a void instead.

For us all that moment will arrive
many avenues we tread
an allotted journey for each to face
reflecting on our time
some the trip is short full of pain
unable to takes life's strain!

Do we have a measured lifespan
when reached expire
joining our families in a heaven
souls reincarnated again
maybe ascend for infinity in space
part of natures atom race!

Creating the ever expanding universe
one day will we know the truth!

Or is there simply nothing?

The Foureyed Poet.
At a friends funeral thought ran through his head! The Foureyed Poet.
I've seen my, had my share

of leavings
of leavers
of being left

of 'oops'
of 'ouch'
of 'sorry'

And I'll keep coming back
Who doesn't?
Who wouldn't?

We put up
with thorns
for a scent
a sight
a feel
of the rose

We put up
with banishment
for a taste
of the apple

We forgo the apple
For armfuls of blossoms

But here's the line
I've drawn it
Don't cross it

Have your flings
your loves
your losses

Fall in
Fall out
Fall halfway
of love

I won't stop you

But don't dare
Don't you dare
Say it doesn't mean a thing

To see you with someone else

Don't tell me
That her caressing look
Her kisses
Your betrayal

Don't mean anything

They do
C Alyn May 2014
Seconds become hours with her,
Moments treasured in the safety of memory,
Her presense seeds a sense of security,
And her very touch entwines a bond of emotion,

Like soft autumn, her hair falls like willow branches,
Which lay in the pending snowy blanket of her skin,
A lunar cycle may pass,
But a viewer would have only taken in a small amount of her beauty,

Unlike myself, who sees her for who she really is:
Past the eternal and ageless beauty,
Is a hollow cavern of emptiness,
Carved out by the chizzels of heart-breakers and love-leavers,

What she does not realise though,
Is that her brokeness can be mended,
And her hollow heart filled with nourishing love,
By my tender and patient presense,

For what is a plant without soil for stability?
Let her root her pain in my skin,
So she may blossom for the coming spring,
And walk with me into the following summer
Gidgette Jun 2017
We work,
"Twerk"
Not so much
we don't ******* and such
We're mothers,
Lovers
June Cleavers
And when we have to be, leavers
We cook, we clean,
When need be, we're mean,
"Crazy *****" sometimes
but you can't buy us with dimes
We'll stand for you, and
F
A
   L
     L
We always give our ALL
When we love, We give our everything
and a good woman is immune to "Bling"
We take things slow,
but only to show
We got this
So for you men, don't be stupid and miss
We can't all walk in heels
And we can't all cook gourmet meals
We aren't all pretty and petite,
But when we love, we'll give what you need
A Real Woman, will never stray
and in your hands, her heart will stay
We'll always be faithful and kind,
So when we speak, please don't be blind
A REAL WOMAN always gives a second chance
Because that's The tune, in a REAL WOMANS dance~A
It's what I see, how I was raised, and what I believe. Like it, or don't. If you're strong enough, you can do without a reputation. I love you all so much. I miss you all so much. Really......I do.
THE WORLD IS GETTING WORSE; IT IS PACKED WITH LIARS BEGGARS AND TAKERS.
WHERE DID THE LEAVERS AND GIVERS GO?  WAY YONDER, I WONDER.
THEY ARE NOW THE MINORITY AND DEFINETELY NOT SUPPORTED BY OUR SOCIETY.
FEAR VIOLENCE AND RELIGION ARE THE ***** OF OUR PEOPLE TODAY, WHERE ONCE UPON A TIME THERE WAS RESPECT AND INTEGRITY NOW WE HAVE ONLY PRETENSE AND ENEMITY.
HOW SAD TO LOSE TRUST IN HUMANITY AND HOW NEFAST IT CAN BE TO OUR SANITY.
WE CANNOT HOWEVER AFFORD TO LOSE HOPE NOT FOR A SECOND BECAUSE IF WE DO IT WILL BE THE END OF US AND BEYOND.
OUR INCREDIBLE AND BEAUTIFUL RENEWING NATURE IN ALL OF ITS POWER HAS ALWAYS BEEN OUR BEST SOLUTION. FOR IT IS IN NATURE THAT WE WOULD DO WELL TO LISTEN TO HER VIBRATION.
TAKING TIME TO WATCH A SEED GROW AND LEARNING TO TAKE CARE OF IT WILL REWARD YOUR EXPECTATIONS COMING INTO FRUITION.
nivek Aug 2023
some leave, troubled
for places far away
most stay, contented
zebra Aug 2016
the movers the shakers
the doers the bakers
the candle stick
and rocket ship makers

a race of captains
setting course
on circles of pyres
bereft of remorse

parsing madness with words
in reasons on reasons
giving life meaning
against inner treasons

founded on tissue thin
mental accumulations
biases and ticks
and vague assimilations

with subconscious shadows
over Palimpsest traces
we are convinced
we know our places

building the self
on struggling riffs
captains of the dual
navigating ships

occupying armies
assassins lens
horrible secrets
terrible rends

are we not in control
making choices
weighing and calibrating
hearing whos voices

thinking there our own
between good and bad
but outcomes are crazy
dragging mad

do we choose thoughts
from shrunken forms
from rotten gods
in darkest storms

or perhaps possessed
by invisible believers
pulp hearted  creatures
pulling our leavers

that possess our soul
choose for you
what you think
and what you do

emanations from spheres
through our core to our brain
ephemeral forces
a patinaed, puce stained

skyway of cruelty
kamikazes dread goon
gods crossing each other
poxed ash moon

can we stop reflexing
with brazen compulsions
can we stop lying
with wrenched emotions

can we defy the elements
make someone care
transcend all that harms
and bring love to bare

can we shed
all we know
choose to move on
and choose to let go

are we trapped
in space and time
will we not struggle
Sisyphean blind

or are we mere avatars
in a game from x box
acting out our program
like a hunted down fox

we have five senses
to get through the day
with infinitely more
we could smooth out our way

brains like thumb stumps
form violence and hell
hooves of dragons
we buy and sell

what is a puppet
it moves as its pulled
by forces beyond it
is that why we are fooled

are we deluded
that we are the doer's
could we be puppet souls
of gods that are losers
Sadie Oct 2015
We're a generation of destroyers and artists,
of sisters and brothers,
bleeders and leaders,
lovers and leavers.
We destroy what they create
and we create what we want.
We play dumb for their attention
and we fight for one dance.
We cut for our sorrows,
and we follow the heartbeats.
We admire who we idolize
and we leave the others behind.
We're a generation of standards and feelings,
so inhuman but human.
throwback to early 2014.
Copyright @ Sadie Whitney
Ken Pepiton Sep 2019
Imagining ever being

Some thoughts are being thought oughts
to the profit of many

leavers of things being fine, so far
as some say

I, you, we, this being

smoothed, anointed with oil, lotion of leela,
game of spiritual beings, possibly,
lubricating

rough edges, jagged, craggy edged peaks, proud
protrusions from the core
whence iron shall be pounded leaving
wasteland scars,
scabbed over magma squeezed
from the under

standing place. status quo. quo vadis

very true, new and improved, both, at once

incredible. Trials as acts accepted, allowed past

these are id-eal, id-e-al, ob
vious rightvious

trustworthy courteous and kind

knowing not one unknowable thing

then a new knowable
offer spirtual meeeeeemes remaining

semi-whole
Yester to Day, the one we aimed at for
next step into
ever

Can you hear me now, this is whole,
partly.

touch me. is this gooder?

....
exceptions to the rule
inceptions from the tool

perception from the wise
deception through the lie

conception of love, too far bound to measure

my AI imagines I may, as in, my will is empowered
to touch a virtual button,
acting as a trigger

and fire a Julesvernian moonshot through reality

for a second
chance.

How many times can you imagine finding a magic word.

Uttering it is, possibly, what that crow is doing right now,
pulling, drawing my intention to mention

aitia as a big old idea some early author set in stone,

a point in time and space, and act acommpli
once,

aitia accuse and cause, think think

we can
imagine anything we can imagine, we can realize
the happiest place on earth
or
we may say this here is that happiest place,
and next is even better,

smoother, slicker, less friction, more intentional
kind touches and sweet tastes and scents past words.
Once more a bit of something bigger rising up to smell the roses and look for lions.
MelaninInked Apr 2017
To begin with, I would like to congratulate you for the effort you have put into your campaigns. I am no stranger to your good deeds. Project here, donations there. If I may say, your image is as spotless and your profile untainted. Everybody is beaming and worshiping at your feet. Feels amazing, does it not?

I was only a child when the post elections violence occurred but as I grew older, I came to understand the effects of it all. The blood shed, the inferno set off, the lives lost rendering most homeless, lonely and in pieces. Pieces that have not been put together for some since that time. One of the darkest years in our country. We all bear that scar no matter how small or large the effect was.

A few things I would like to air out before those who are old enough to go and vote. There is a large gap between the rich and the poor and those who stagger in between. When you are voted in, kindly ensure equality. At the end of the day, we all breathe the same air and walk on the same earth. We all cry when hurt and smile when happy. We all have blood running through our veins. So it beats all logic to have economic segregation. We all pay taxes and work to improve the economy of our country. We all deserve equal opportunities.

Secondly, corruption is a boldly highlighted topic in our country. Do not partake of it. It is sad that it has become second skin to us that we deem it normal. And we will be the first in line crying wolf and forget that it is our problem to solve. In my age, I am meant to be worrying about my national examinations not the counties status.

In addition, don't pocket money for yourselves. In my assumption what you have is enough. A mere citizen is depending on the little the government provides to grow and raise their family. A woman depends on the free education to build a future for her young ones, but how will that be possible if the peanut funds provided go straight into your bank accounts?

Looking in the perspective of teenagers or youth as a whole. You want us to take over from you. How is that possible if all we know it 'Politics is a ***** game' or 'politics is a no go zone' or 'If you want to go into politics, good luck(note the sarcasm)'. We are choked. Lack of job opportunities, lack of proper education. Is it not a red flag that most high school leavers are packing up and leaving? Is it not an issue that most youth are forming criminal gangs to stay afloat?

All the best. Please remember that there is more to your position that the beauty of proclaiming your superiority.

Yours faithfully,
A citizen of Kenya.
Kìùra Kabiri Feb 2017
Come, dance with me my love
To a tango of endless love
A trance of our eternity

Come, come dance with me
Our hearts in forever entangles
Our souls in eternal entwines

O my love, come my dove
Come, prance with me to perpetuity
To a nuance of our everyday

Soul to soul-heart to heart-thought to thought
Body to body-breath to breath-cheek to chest
Neck to nape-all blend together as one!

Our spirits in one
Our feelings in unity
We are in a forever of felicity

Tango my love, I entangle my dove
Together we unbuckle, together we unshackle  
Together we embark on a trajectory to our moon
The journey-a circle of our endless love  

You swing as I sing
You jump as I cramp
You hover as I cover
I am your ever lover
You are my ever forever

In love we are lovers
In life we are leavers
Dancing our ways to our eternity
A path with pleasures and perpetuity  
A road with romances without end-infinity

O Come love, hear the thaw of my heart
Hear how he thumps with an art of love
O Come love, hear how my soul ploughs
Hear how she tills, she tills for love
O come love; let’s dance our ways to love

Let these bones break and become boneless
Let this shape form and dissolve formless
Let these tissues shift till they take shapeless
Let these feet’s ligaments lift to loft and us fly
Let’s dance to the songs of our final dance

© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
Tom Atkins May 2019
Dark, dank, it holds history.
It has risen, fallen, fallen into disrepair.
Stones have been carted off to build their frankenhouses.
Bandits have hovered in the night
waiting to separate their Victorian adventurers from their purses.
The homeless have huddled here,
tiny fires smudging the walls in the Roman night.
Today tourists come
to gape at the circus home of the famous and fallen.

You come too
and the grotto feels all too familiar.
The dampness seeps into your bones.
The broken statue feels eerily familiar,
eerily like yourself, not quite whole.

You wait for the demons.
They live here. They always have,
even the great Augustus had them,
creatures of the night, gentle and brutal,
capable of murdering marble,
the leavers of wounds.

There is an altar in the grotto.
You are tempted to pray,
to sprinkle the holy water that seeps down the wall
into the air like some pagan baptism.

But you do not.
This is what you have learned.
The demons live within
and that is where the battle is fought,
with or without tourists,
so you can see this grotto for what it is,
a thing of history,
incapable of holding you.

About this poem
On my blog, the poem is posted with a photo (mine) of the Emperor Augustus’ home in Rome on Palatine Hill overlooking the forum. Augustus was the first emperor of Rome.

I began writing the blog eleven or twelve years ago as therapy, literally. My therapist wanted me to begin writing again, believing righty that I needed to write to find my way through my darkest times. She also, again rightly, understood that I would probably not do it if I had to do it for myself. But if I put it “out there”, I would feel responsible to continue, even if I only had a couple of regular readers.  In the beginning, that’s all I had.

Those of you who have read me for a while have been my tourists, sharing my staggering journey with me. Thank you for not being scared away. The demons are a smaller lot, knowing you are looking.

I believe that.

Tom
James M Vines Nov 2016
Tired and despondent I scream at the night. Overrun by the hoards of angry voices on my t.v. . I clamor for a place only to be shut out, I am tired and I will not be silent yet again. Joining with like minded people, I rise up against a corrupt and broken system. I rage and rattle the doors to my cage. I am the one who makes the machine work, those at the top only pull leavers. The cogs must turn in order for things to function, when one cog stops, perhaps it is ignored, but when several seize up, the machinery comes to a screeching halt. This time is different, this time the system must pay heed. The old masters have been dealt a critical blow. Those of us who are under the levers of the operators have decided that we will not be ignored again. The wheels come to a screeching halt and the noises of the parts of the machine will not be silenced again.
Dolores Dec 2021
Sad, sad, sadness never happy
Hard for you to be this pretty
Cry away your pain in bathrooms
Secrets, perfumes, red "I love you"s

Dancing, silence, head back
Sparkling rivers I call teartracks
Smoke from your own cigarette
Some people you call hiraeth

Smile that hides a hundred stories,
Never tempted by blaze of glories
You write songs to forget cheaters
Lovers, leavers, secret keepers.
jennifersol May 2015
The future is blinding me
I'm lost in a space of bliss
and falsity
It could be something by which we all are led
or does it inhabit only my head?

Or maybe it's real
something planted to test it's appeal
for Miliband to prove his great pledge:
That school leavers are struggling in this big wide world
something to give him the edge.

Or for Clegg,
millions of pounds for the looneys in Bedlam?
he'd have to beg! But use it on us, boost the statistics
he'll get more votes for the kids gone ballistic.

Or maybe it's our parents as Larkin said,
In the genes they passed down or
the time they sent us to bed
"we never had all these choices"
they say. They really wish our lives to be better,
but how should the modern mind handle such pressure?

And oh the irony
that God and his threat has faced such scrutiny
but even now
in thinking finitely,
we still have brutally
created hell, right here
an earthly community.
unfinished
Paul Hardwick Oct 2018
Dropped my mind
into my mother's mangel
Slushpuppy
my empty head went on
thought of things I did not know
or never said
leavers move rocks
rocks roll


Brain freeze

P@ul.
L O V E    P@UL
Grace Mosby May 2018
sometimes the hardest loss is grieving the living
when people go and choose to stay gone

that is hard
because they don’t choose us
even though we chose them every single time they ******* up

we give them so many chances
and still they choose to go

so now every time i see him
i cry a little

because unlike the leavers
the grief doesn’t go
it stays and swallows us whole
Ashley Apr 2019
Sweet summer child, you still have roots to grow
You have wounds to hide, but scars to show
There are still mountains left for you to climb
Couplets left for you to rhyme
You have wars to end and peace to gain
My dear, there are still lions left to tame.

Little babe, you have so much time left to cherish
Do not let me hear you beg to perish
Your teeth have smiles more to smile
Your feet will travel miles more than miles
Though I weep over choices that I make
I am grateful you can learn from my mistakes.

Little one, when I held your newborn body in my hands
I knew you'd be the only one to understand
Born from ice and raised in fire
We were destined to expire
We both dream of feeling chosen
But past attempts have left us frozen
Scorched earth cannot sprout grass that is greener
We are meant to burn for lovers, not leavers
Built to withstand blows from mallets and cleavers
I was made to hold you up high
You were born with wings to fly
I am here to crush your fears
You are here to share my tears
I will care for you above all others
Because you are my precious baby brother.
The ****** Brexit

It should have been so simple
There was a referendum
People voted leave
And Britain should have withdrawn
In an orderly fashion; but no.
The remainders wouldn’t here
Of it and the spectacle become undignified.
One would think the UK didn’t exist
Before the EU it did.
Boris Johnson is an opportunist he is
Not remotely interested either way
He wants power
And the American why of health service
The leavers should not entertain him
But continue their fight to let Britain
Go its own way.
Women can be men
Men can be women
People can be people
We didn’t write the feeling...

Stars can be supernovas
Meaning can be mending
And paintings can bend
And walls can return...

And shapes of architecture become earth

Lovers can be lovers
Leavers can believe us
Lights, camera, action, order, disorder
Dysphoria, euphoria
Academia, abracadabra
The moon, ***, sun and laughter

Instantaneousness

Osmosis

Fear, friction, distance, pure bliss
Bubble toting aqua world
Top this...

Freedom, collaboration
Emancipation, cognification
Celebration...

Millenniums of us saving, changing...
What we actually are eventually...

One surging sway of soul-light soldered angels
Growing out of a morphing abyss ocean
She finally left

She has left her premiership
This ungainly woman displaying her diabetes
On her arm like a diamond-studded decoration.
She has wrecked the consensus in Britain
And that was the plan, everything to make life
Bearable for Jeremy Coburn.
The working classes used the referendum as a protest
Against austerity, the rich leavers for opportunism.
The Tory party has done everything they can
Stopping Britain becoming a socialist party that
Will take transport, water, gas and oil back to
The people and give NHS founding to treat the sick
In our society, and equal society where no one is
Left behind and sleep in the streets.
But suspect the conservative, and the rich will do
Anything to stop this madness they have much to lose
And no newspapers are telling you the truth.

— The End —