Chosen

You think you’re chosen, because you are
You think its hard, because it is
You think you see the horizon, you do
You see, you know, because it’s true

How those doubts they throw at you
don’t have to stay and grow with you
How their faith so lacked and worn
doesn’t stop your purpose born

And, at the moment the only action
Is don’t give in to their reaction
Just stand firm, and hold your faith
Fire burns stronger in solid grate

Eyes, will focus from a steady gaze
informed by love and wasted days
on dreams conceived in their night
where souls will rise and take their flight

What heart knows, will come to pass
and those who doubt will see at last
that what was given can’t be squandered
by waiting while they still wondered

and waiting for approval from
the swine who trample silk anon
and making wait divine choice
in favour of their carping noise
will wait no more from famine foil
and last beyond your mortal coil.
Take my sword, cut ties that choke
throw off that heavy, man made, yoke
Your time to act is here, and now
take heart and hand to steady plough
Give yourself, immersed to task
for which you were born, and which we ask
you embrace with pure delight
we’ll see you dance in purest light
we’ll see you laugh again with glee
and see your soul soaring free
and matched again with your true mate
where last you left at heaven’s gate
Our message we want passed along
is each match their soul to their own song
only authenticity,

opens love of high degree

Only truth, real truth, faith
makes the path to divine gate
Its open now for all to see
that choose to look, no search they need
Its all there and they that close
will hold their heart in cheap repose
when joy is at their fingertips
and words of love spill from their lips
We wait no more and come ye will
We’ll give our love our strength until
your purpose found you do fulfil
because fired by gods, you are, still

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I Don’t Need

Apparently, seeing pictures of celebrities
has a harmful effect on me
it’s their beauty you see, and skin
I thought injustice more heinous a sin

I should dismay at high beauty standards?
and not erosions of rights for granted
an article about make up used the word condemned
no mention persecution of a global friend

Women,  we in a double bind
speak the truth speak as we find
ignore the fecking daily mail
whose fascist past will never pale

Fashion takes a stronger hold
than the brave and the good, noble and old
Striving away with no grants
while catwalk spits out food bank gaunt

Measure my brain and activity bared
you show me pictures of bikinis there
that I can’t compete, though I didn’t care
mosquito nets save lives I’d rather share

A rule, they say, that you break at your peril
then glittering eyes indicate feral
my bile that spits on your shallow wiles
burns the truth that your rag defiles

I’ve discarded all the golden rules
I don’t have to spray tan there’s shit to do
I know no pain no gain is the mantra
Pay your tax so we can all catch up

I don’t need to read it’s OK or Hello
to find out the facts that I need to know
I don’t need to see inside a house
that could fit 20 families who go without

I need you to count your money in heartbeats
I need you to look at the sleeping streets
I need you to see the spark in the eyes
of the child needing medicine not wanting to die

I need you to see the pain in the man
who found out the care home were mistreating his nan
I need you to see the woman who made
a sacrifice of sanity because of no legal aid

When you wipe that facade of make up and skin
let your sobs out and other people in
you might find real people are more,
than HELLO?, not OK about another bloody war

TAKE A BREAK why don’t you

No More Heroes?

I go through the names at every visit, to give them back their name being spoken on the wind again, albeit in a language different from their mothers voices. After all this and all they did there are still some that can’t see past what the name means, the clue it gives of how they give thanks in their life for something they looked for out of it, the clue that a mother and father bestowed it as a blessing on a child they expected to outlive them.

The same people who use those very fallen ‘our boys’ as an excuse to never look outside the longitude and latitudes of their own lands to help, cannot comprehend that others did one time, before they were born, looked out from there, to help here and didn’t even get buried at home, but a small square has been given to them. Now, all that is there is the name, amongst running water and a sapling each standing to attention and watching, that can bend with the weather when they never could.

The one word they never use is irony, it is only short but very heavily loaded. It seems that for some the grave does not level us all, that a warrior grave that usually elevates should not be given to all, no matter how noble, selfless and honourable their sacrifice to protect other people’s families with no gain for them. Other people’s families who generations down, spew on stories that ‘This is England’ and say ‘Lest We Forget’ for a few days in November, but then do forget if the hero is not the right colour or religion to be gained entrance into their mawkish lip service. Maybe they should be made to wait and watch over those dead to see that after all, the bones are the same colour and fit together the same way and the heart is in the same hollow and the arsehole has all disappeared apart from the one regarding.

The casualties of war, are they those who die a noble death or those who 100 years later can still not let go of hate?

And you who worship your God of fire
Do you think he knows your deep desire
Is proud of the bile you spout
Your views uncovered spilling out

No you’re not racist but
There’s just a little part
That can’t keep the hate out
That ferments in your heart

And you do it in the name of your God

Where is it written that your DNA
Is the only one that is ok?
Who gave you a license to supremacy
When you bleed the same as me
And them
And breathe
And scare
And flounder
And drown
You would you know
Let’s hope you never do know

Let’s just hope that you turn the pages of your book
To the verse and chapter that says take a look
At the person beside you mother or son
Same look in the eye and same moon and same sun

Same pain and loss and joy at birth
Same chance to do good on this earth
Same compassion that weeps and arms that can hold
To turn off the hate let the guns go cold

And here, like people who did their best
Attached your colours to their chest
Fought so you had freedom to state
I’m not racist, but,
Oh

What did they waste?