Wires Crossed

The world over people living in squalor, poverty wealthy and rich are sad and depressed, twisted mindfully by an imaginary friend, the better or worse side of him, her or me. 

Positive thinking is fine when your positively perfect, are you perfect? In such an imperfect land, is the great house you bought or built lying on sand?. I don’t care and don’t want to know, now we’re getting to the crux of it, we reap what we sow.

Every person I meet desires what they seek, try telling that to the neighbour who is tired and meek, we sat and watched television for the entire week where did it get us? like the Tower of Babel, unable to understand when the other does speak. 

Turn on the light for the entire earth feels, the tenderness of sargasso, the loss of its eels, was it merely a breakdown in communication, I’m not listening anymore, you have all your wires crossed, I am afraid you’re a bore.

The wiring in a million houses across the earth all give light, intelligent people understand it’s the same,  work out the colours then you cannot be to blame. Go get a gun, find fortune and fame or die in a gas chamber, it is only a game. 

I’ve reached nowhere and climbed many mountains, not knowing which path to take, an intellect wasting time exasperatingly deflated by failure, fifty years in the making, would have won a prize had I not stagnated. 

Dermot

A hero inspired the neighbourhood devoted to his passion, he often cried when on a losing side, he was the pinnacle of obsession.

It is with such passion great things arise, however being too emotional, then he was cut down in size. 

I have no right to be here any longer than him, have not achieved anything, I’ve never had a win.

Arsenal, Chelsea, Blackpool, football has lost, a heart treated Crawley and mean, the best the footballing world would ever have seen.

I know this all to be true, he was my friend in my inevitable youth, we played cricket, football and all kinds of games. Like knock,down,dinger and blind mans buff. 

I would like to have said please don’t, just have fun, life is better all round when your not trying to be the best. He would have been a loser like me but a living one. 

'IT'

We tread carefully with the mere thought of getting it so dreadfully wrong, one may ask what ‘it’ is?. Is ‘it’ the walk of life?, the work we do and the love we hold so dear?, is ‘it’ that everything we cherish could so easily turn to dust with our fear, a nightmare beyond proportion fighting for survival, striving for success then at the stroke of achievement like a wonderous ice sculpture the weather changes to dissolve all that is beautiful into water.

Our ways as homosapiens meaning ‘to be wise’ go forth with the ability to survive, to be the most attractive man, she is the petal that must be plucked and in order to do so will smile with dignity, to be set as a rare orchid singlely displayed in a meadow of poppies frozen through a winter chill, then all of a sudden there is a spurt of joy, a warmer climate dramatically climbs high into the sky drawing the moisture away thus remaining the only flower to survive and win through with courage to the end.

Man' with a strength of conviction and willpower becomes whatever he desires to warm the heart of that lonely orchid, yet after seasons of change from urgent beginnings wilt into that empty nothingness we all eventually endeavour, leaving a gaping hole, falling through, on and down, until everything that once was open and light deepens into a black hole, yet what adventure awaits on the other side. 

Apathetical incorrectness

Tyranny is a ridiculed master, greedy for success of position and wealth, a success story of thwarted cynical evil
Power is a condition of the mind threatening control over the fearful to speak out the truth or  to believe in an alternative opinion, lest they be deceitfully destroyed
Capitalism although intricately designed for the growth of wealth for all, is a tool which the haves of power and tyranny use for the excuse of controlling the nation, blaming the poorest for wanting something that they themselves  abuse to the end of their own greediness.
Xenophobia is a hatred of foreigners adjoined with racism to gain the same end , it is a condition brought on by a fear of people different to ones self, the same as pointing out a spot on another child’s face in school, a person with a disfigurement that others dare not look at. A person mistreated for being weak. It is a strong tool used by politicians to gain power by evoking fear into the heart of everyman and woman in the street which has by deceitful means of the government brought the United Kingdom the vote of a Brexit from the European community, the obvious reason for this would be breaking down of Health and Safety regulations including protection of workers rights for obvious gains.
Fascism is a combination of Tyranny, Power, Capitalism, Xenophobia, Jealousy, hatred, fear. not purity as Adolf Hitler would have had the world believe. No it is an evil, a cold hearted  greedy collector of wealth by villainous means it can and must be overcome by the masses of Good hearted people all over the earth looking around at each and every person as another ordinary person that requires food, a home, a car, a Job and a loving family, putting aside age, gender, race, wealth and any other idiosyncratic reason for jealousy or hatred of others because they are different. Fear is also the enemy within everyone of us.
Or maybe I’m being simplistic

No historical statute left by S.A. Scope.

Once proud England stood low on the mountainside, the greatest war lost with no last post, greediest of worms weakening the foundations of the pure white suited host.
Blue blood is the colour of the already dead corpse that defeated the dove, incomplete without wings, peacocks of the millennium hoodwinked, magpies claw away remains of roadkill, minority fleeing, congratulatory sings.
Era ended away to crumbling farcical amusement, reducing at a level of absurdity, crime in the hood, needles of a drug addict, not exactly a peasant revolt moreover a joining at a level of accomplished nothingness with beauty.

Af.....is.......let...

Dear ...........
I don’t know how to begin this ...... ...........leaving for a most important.......... I may  not return due to the dangerous conditions as there are lots of.............. bastards will know. Further more can you visit.............. Next year. I hope to see you at............. winter cheer with a beer and a Happy new.......... car is in the wash........... as I am selling plenty of them at................. the time to go and collect the dosh. Please give my love to............. all the beautiful.................wildebeest are amazing.....................torn apart by lions or grazing, anyway I...................... closing, make out what you say, I’ll be coming home in.......
Au revoir
Patric....

Sweet Little Creature

In the dark shadows where the deepest doth lay, beneath the brambles on a hot summers day, hidden underneath the bails of old hay is a sweet little creature who’s birthday is in May.

A collision of thunder, a pelting of rain, a cool bitter winter stands in the way, snowy covered fields on a icy cold day, but it does not destroy or change the mood of the sweet little creature who’s birthday is in May.

Enter the spring when the winter has failed, beginning new life with all that’s allowed, soft soil found from trodden old leaves, planting afresh dispersing the seed, yet “what happened to the past?”  You hear some of them say, the hedgehog laughs on, still hidden away to the sweet little creature who’s birthday is in May.

New Born starting life every place around, there are lots of baby kits around to be found, a new little owl has fallen to the ground, a feed for a fox teaching her cubs silence, not making a sound. “It’s a wonderful time of year” some would say, except the sweet little creature who’s birthday is in May, sadly fell  asleep and died on this day under the bail, of rotten old hay.