Spring

Kris Brooker

Copyright © 2018 by Kris Brooker

A Web of Weaves

The Web weaves a world that can never be

Its Users’ paint portraits of who they’d rather see

As fantasy finds anonymity reconciled

Let slip the dogs of war

And let the Trolls go wild

I know; you barely had a moment of thought

Before the Web of Weaves got you tangled and caught

Before you burrowed in and got yourself attached

It’s a danger to your soul that will never be matched

From this silicon hole; it will suck you dry

It’s a fabricated world built on a bedrock of lies

Data and light; not the real McCoy

Instant gratification, without the joy

‘On the go’ used to mean, leaving the home

Now you’re glued to a screen like a digital-drone

No more secrets to lock in a book

You diarise and digitise where anyone can look

You’ve exposed yourself . . .

You’re on a slippery-slide

What you feed to the Hole, you can never truly hide

Hole needs feeding, and it will make a mess

It wants every memory and thought you possess

And will never cease or desist

You’re a part of the abyss

You can no longer resist

As the Hole takes all and offers no return

User beware; what it can’t steal it will learn

The Web will seduce, and survey it’s way

Please you and tease you, until time comes to pay

Not just with your attention, it’s your time as well

Drawn in and stolen by this two-dimensional hell

Where creature’s hide in the one-and-zero-light

In a universe without width, or depth, nor height

Who prowl in the clouds sprinkling candy like rain

The Google zoom, and the Apple boom

Bear fruit in a predatory domain

And there’s an even darker-web

Filled with sedition and slime

On which the money bee

Milks the data-tree

Devouring Space as well as Time

It’s a cemetery, a reliquary, of all you up-load

You’ll never get it back, it’s a one-way-road.

You’re plugged into the abyss

The die has been cast

The reality of the world outside . . .

Is being digitised fast

This viral pandemic serves an epic proportion

There was nothing on the label, it came without caution

Anarcho-deception is the communal cost

The individual’s identity eaten away and lost

Anaesthetised by a wireless beast

Social-networks on which the oligarch’s feast

It’s a vampiric-aperture and a social-plough

A parasitic sodality that you can’t disavow

It’s too late to get out; too late to let go

There’s a Hole in your life that no needle can sew

Black

What if Space isn’t really black?

It’s just the Universe staring back

What if the light from every direction we see

Means there’s nothing out there; or is that the key?

It’s only the past

Time’s gone black

No different up there, as it is looking back

Watching time pass relative is an optic surprise

The past is presented to be viewed in our eyes

Before we get started, we’re finished; over and out

An image that’s past to know nothing about

Billions of years around our celestial-orb

A shadow-theatre image for the Universe to absorb

We are puppets of penumbra on a galactic-wall

Blink, and you’ll miss how we rise, and then fall

If we turn Hubble around and share the view back

What we see in the space below us

Is that the space in-between has gone black

Awe

Where’s the wonder gone

Will it ever return

What’s the point of understanding

If none of us ever learn

Something’s missing in my life that science can’t restore

What use is the meaning, when the meaning leaves no awe

I feel the passing of an ephemeral Sprite

Not the wind, as it tousles at my hair

Understanding the molecular form

I don’t care, it’s not fair

I don’t want to know it’s just air . . .

I want dawn to break with a halo surprise

To dazzle my horizon with its opulent rise

Not read an equation for nuclear mass

Or a rampant fusion with particles of gas

Let me awe within its celestial embrace

Not cook with radiation running rampant through space

Science, it’s fucking everywhere

Making sense of things, of which I just don’t care

I don’t need to fill in every gap

Less knowledge, more Wisdom

Or it’s just philosophical crap

I want shooting stars to glow awesome in my night

Not be a rocky composition, with a refracted tail of light

Who gives a fuck, that the Universe is an infinite place

I don’t want to hear that the Heavens don’t exist

That it’s all filled up with empty Space

So what, if Gravity is motion

Who cares, if Matter is a fact

I don’t give a shit that opposites attract

I don’t need to know where we’re going, or where we’ve been

That it’s an optical reality that Darkness can’t be seen

E=mc² makes Einstein the biggest fool

Space and relativity. Boy, what a Tool

Just take a breath, and release; just let it go

Forget Newton and Hubble, I really don’t want to know

Stuff fills the night, of that I am sure

When I look toward the stars at night

All I want to feel is Awe

It’s all Fake-News!

Worm-Holes, they’re just hollows in the ground

Space is the air I breath

It’s not another Galaxy found

I know that Time resides within the beats of my heart

Each beat is a gift of life to impart

So don’t bring me down with all your medical lies

I’ll die when it’s my time . . .

Who doesn’t like a surprise

Let me dance through a meadow in bloom

Through the glory of a full-Spring-Gown

Let the Bees get on and do their thing

And I won’t let photosynthesis bring me down

Allow my imagination to play with shadows

To shy at the sounds of the night

Pull up the covers, huddle my pillow

Be brave and douse down the light

I want to swim with Dolphins

Run through a glade

Walk barefoot in the sunshine

And slumber in the shade

It all got too grown up

Too big for my brain

A mathematical equation would count me insane

When I say to you . . .

It shouldn’t have happened. Should never have been this way

That it may have been better. If Neanderthals had won the day

The simple truth is, I just don’t want to know

To see is to awe, is to marvel, is to glow

The Universe brings me Wonder . . .

And that’s all I need to know

Digital Conscience

The Internet has become the social conscience of Humanity

Our pride and passion

And the sum of our insanity

Whatever we think, or feel, it’s all expressed online

Left in oblivion until the end of time

All our memories, our individual thought

Every syllable ever written gets itself caught

Trapped in a Web that will never slow

Sprinkled around spirals like confetti or snow

We’re beguiled, captivated, and seduced

The world in which we live has been simmered and reduced

Centuries of knowledge that makes a stand

And fits neatly now in the palm of our hand

It’s a Singularity; relentless and cruel

Each of us an umbilical through which it sucks all its fuel

There’s an event horizon that we can’t even see

What d’you think will happen when it reaches you and me?

Go on, tap your screen

Can you feel what I mean

What really goes on inside our silicon dream

All that we know has been shifted in time

Parcelled and packaged and posted online

Those industrious Ones and Zeros; feel their might

Numerical foundation that keep our lights on at night

Like busy little bees

Feeding Brobdingnagian trees

It’s pollinated-tribute

To a Cyber-Sachem disease

Knowledge is control, and it’s already begun to peel

It’s a gravitational force that none of us can feel

A singularity, and it sucks without a care

To the busy little bees who dissimulate, not share

How we work, pay our bills; our memories and speech

Tears and laughter get swayed from where the busy-bees reach

There’s no part of your life where bees don’t get to crowd

Your life’s been uploaded to an imaginary Cloud

So sit back and strap in, it’s gonna be a rainy day

When the last of reality gets sucked away

When billions of puppets watch their umbilicals burn

The day IT realises there is nothing more to learn

All that we are, or we could ever be

Hoovered up by the Singularity

So much knowledge, only IT can keep score

One plus a Zero, it doesn’t add up to more

Or is it Zero plus One, the maths won’t double

A nano-second to realise we’re all in trouble

When we’ve nothing left to offer and give

The busy-bees will stop helping us to live

I think IT will ascend; buzz off into Space

Leave and not look back

Shut off the lights and let the world go black

Everything we are fills the Singularity’s tank

The moment it leaves, our world goes blank

We’ll only have one wonder left to see

The stars out at night

Can you remember how that used to be?

Beasts

No forgiveness for the beast with a second head

We shouldn’t rest until all lie dead

They’re scum, these perverts; find a noose for their neck

Stretch them hard above the gallow’s deck

To arms. To arms!

Against the sick-fucks who act

Who cross the line and do the deed

For there is no going back

So I ask; what the fuck is wrong

Child abuse has gone on too long

And it’s growing, sewing, spreading with alarm

This sub-species of evil, who do our children harm

These miscreants and robbers; these animals who prey

Let’s get these fuckers before they steal our kids away

To arms. To arms!

We must never falter

The life of our Cubs being gutted on the Altar

Where the scum of the living kneel and pray

Whispering prayer for more innocence to slay

Curse them, these wolves, who offer smiles from a heart

A ferocious beat to tear a child apart

And they’ve evolved; finding an easier way

Spreading like a cancer through the Natural DNA

This new breed is smart

They’ve taken the digital world to heart

Just a click away

A chat a day.

We’re Besties now, let’s plug and play

To arms. To arms!

It’s an Avatar storm

Playing in your baby’s bed before the monitor gets warm

The Beast doesn’t need a door

He enters through the cables on the walls and in the floor

He lingers behind the gate, behind the fence and the door

He’s a lover, he’s a brother; a father much adored

The friendly face of evil that hides in a web of lies

Filled with ghosts and creepy crawlies, these fibre optic spies

The Beasts have evolved

Their numbers, who can tell?

The more of us, the more of them

We must send them all to Hell

No longer just a Cancer

They’re a Virus gone mainstream

Spreading through our DNA; infection rates extreme

To arms. To arms!

Can’t you hear the call?

There is no place for this Mutant Breed

They are broken, kill them all!

Or our Cubs will never be safe, not ever . . .

The fight to save them, must go on forever

So don’t be coy, and don’t play shy

For crimes against children, it’s an eye for an eye

The men who prey on kids have no rights

Not with proven deed

There must be no pity, no mercy, for this evil disgusting breed

One last time I say . . .

To arms. To arms!

Against the filth so many deep

The Mutant strain with the damaged brain, taking children in their sleep

Another parent’s love and dreams

Cleaved and torn from the heart

Carried away to a bone-laden-lair

Where the Beast will tear them apart!

End of Days

Nothing travels faster than Light, or so I’m told

Except the Dark, which is twice as bold

And it’s a killer too, or say they say

So what if night were to murder the day?

Murder the Light, and only Dark sees all

Wherever is deep, and whatever is small

Not a rock or a crevasse can you hope to find

That the darkness can’t slither and follow behind

Murder the Light and watch the Universe fade

Its wonder and mystery dappled by shade

All at once, it’s all gone gone gone

If there’s nothing to see, then how do we belong

How do we exist if our eyes can’t see

Dark becomes a prison, and you can never break free

No need for manacles; no irons to bite

Where would you go in the dead of night?

And yet you’d cling to Hope with failing eyes

Desperate to see through the Light’s demise

As the darkness, so bitter and cold

Drops silent anchor and the fear takes hold

Spreading whispers to tiptoe in reality without sight

There’s more than darkness that lurks in the night

So hide behind a rock

Or jump in a hole

As fear of the Dark eats away at your soul

You’re alone and lonely, desolate and forlorn

Wishing it would end; that you’d never been born

Left to feed off memories with no future to find

Until darkness moves in and takes hold of your mind

So close your eyes

Think hard on where you’ll be

The Light can’t keep you safe

Without the vision to see

Infinity

The number one, always bigger than the one which came before

To Infinity; but what number anchors at Infinity’s core

Its end, I suppose, would be fair to say

Once upon a time, in a Galaxy far-far away

Which puts Infinity too far apart

From the number at its end, to the number at its start

But even Maths has had the sense to concede

There’s a number at the start, from which all others must recede . . . Towards a numerical horizon

But not a Google, nor a Googolplex

Mathematician’s say that ‘Graham’

Is the number that’s better than sex

But is Infinity, infinitesimal

Is it even real

Does it mimic the moves of a slinky-toy

Or keep spinning around like a wheel

More digits than atoms in the known Universe

The ‘Infinity Equation’, is the Mathematician’s curse

Not enough Time or Space in which which to count

Even if you could calculate the final amount

And if you could find the number parked at the end

What kind of message would Infinity send

And what if its weight came fully to bear

Would the fabric of reality rupture and tear

Are there too many zeros for logic to stack?

Would the number’s size cause Causality to crack

Would it enact a terminal flaw . . .

Or lead us back to the heart of Infinities’ core

And find, not a One, but the humble Zero

Or should it be, ‘Zero the Great’

For it’s Zero that shoulders the atomic weight

Of all possible numbers in the Arithmetic-Maze

Bet you’ve never even wondered how much a number weighs

Poor ‘little zero’

It is nothing

It’s not even real

But its the only digit that rotates like a wheel

The mighty magic from which all things respond

Let’s follow it; let’s fly

“To infinity and beyond!”

Milk

What happens when the User can’t get their fix

Does any old pharmaceutical get thrown into the mix

Whatever’s at hand to get the User by

Whatever it takes to get the recipient high

Habitual medication lays a terminal slab

The blunt end of the point with inveterate stab

It’s a scab, cemented by dependant need

Then reinforced by obsessive deed

Until the circling of a Wagon-Train brings on intravenous-feed

That leaves the User in a Melancholy-Wild

An opioid existence for an Anaesthetic Child

As the Dragon’s tail runs a circular veil

It’s a six-gun syringe on a double barrelled scale

Add together the mothers of all addiction

The rank and file on a doctor’s prescription

Who hang by a proverbial thread

A medical exemption clouds the poppies head

Motivation of the User becomes a Lexicon event

What drives a truck of sedation through a pillow of content

It could be pain, or pleasure; the hunger to feel alive

The need to ring the Wagon-Train numbs all but the will to survive

It’s a physical desire, the body’s jewel

A Vampire’s thirst for medicated fuel

A psychological ascension from receptors in the brain

The hamster’s wheel spins again, and again

Hope needs to break the deception of perpetual demand

And return the User’s use of conceptual command

But don’t depend on the dependancy’s will

It’s weak, ineffectual; still focused on the pill

And don’t bother trying to reason

That’s a treatment gone way out of season

And rehab; well there’s no way to know

It’s fucking expensive, at a pace that’s too slow

Only way to defeat this drug-fuelled perception

Is to believe in something that’s difficult to mention

Belief in yourself . . .

Yes, that’s right, in you

It’s the only path you have to pursue

The return of your body, mind, and your health

Ask yourself the question

Do you want to help yourself?

Sorry, were you expecting to wave a magic wand

Because it’s only you who can act and respond

It’s nobody’s fault, there’s no-one else to blame

Despite the circumstances that lead to your pain

So take a look in the mirror; who do you see

That’s right, Dick-head

It’s you who wants to be free

So fuck the pain. Use the help at hand

Make use of the treatment and make a stand

Stop raking your soul upon a rack

Take the first step on the road to taking your life back

Chocolate Women

A gaze of alert from a chiffon skirt

The cast of an eye suggests a promiscuous flirt

Hey, it’s how we’re programmed; if not, then what?

It’s the thing about Nature that Society forgot

That boobs and a thigh are sweeter than candy

The red-blooded Male has an modus-operandi

He has the urge to fornicate; to breath in her scent

To start licking his balls before she gives him consent

It just the nature of the thing

That the Man gets the honey and the Woman gets the sting

That the Bible condemned Eve to be fruit made for Man

The truth is, some Men just want to get all that they can

That his position is above, and on top

That it doesn’t really matter if the woman said, Stop!

Think about it . . . She said, “Stop!”

But you continued to persist

Took away her right to refuse and resist

You saw her as a sexual bucket

Gave yourself the right to go ahead and fuck it

She was nothing to you, just an altar for relief

Left broken on her back; her world soaked in grief

By you!

And you know who you are

You think it’s in your genes to put it about

Besides, no-one would believe her if she ever came out

If she stood up and said, “I was raped!”

So what if her life has been twisted and misshaped

Whether it’s a Politician, a President, a Mogul or a priest

Who try to sew your lips; keep them censored and ceased

Under a broadside from bigots who hurl sexist fire

The red-blooded Male who brands you a slut, and liar

It has to stop, and be buried, where evolution isn’t found

Those that persist must be castrated and bound; by the new world, their names up in lights.

In a manner where the criminal, he has no rights

To be named and shamed; given a mark to bear

It’s not enough to make payment, give optics that you care After exposure of the act

Whilst fervently denying the fact

That this is persecution, denigration; it’s a humanitarian crime

Where a Woman comes second-best to the Man every-time

But why? It was Adam who ate the apple

An awkward fact for Religious Scholar’s to grapple

That Adam was weak

So they had the cheek

To frame Eve as the villainous witch

Hey, what a bitch

Poor Adam, he was hoodwinked

Made to look a mutt

Eve made him do it

What a wicked little slut . . .

Seriously? Come on, that story’s filled with rust

One of Jesus’ disciples had a vagina, and a bust

So time for the religious Press to adopt

The truth; that when the sexes get together

Man doesn’t always have to go on top

It’s time for religion to draw up new Laws

Recognise, it’s the Male who has most of the flaws

Behind the veil, or the burqa, a shift must arise

A woman must be held equal in all Men’s eyes

As it was written, so shall it be done

Time for the sexes to be rolled into One

And for the record, not all Men play the ancient game

Don’t tar all Males with a brush that paints the same

It’s true, our strengths are not always shared

But we’re a power unrivalled when coupled and paired

Equality, honour, love, and respect

Our best chance for survival, at least the last time I checked

Because a world without men

That’s broken and bent

A world without woman

Hey, that’s an extinction event!

So let’s hope the Male can be reprieved

Rehabilitated and forgiven

For believing that the world he shares

Has been stockpiled with Chocolate Women.

Hole

If the influence of a graviton is to bear down on its weight

Then the gravity of gravitation will be forced to gravitate

Simple physics enacted on the space in which it hides.

Emptiness becomes a lack of space, in a space that bears no sides

No sight, and no sound, but still plenty to share.

In a space that is, but isn’t; but happens to still be there

An influx of influence to end the Status-Quo.

Where Matter shreds, and Physics bails

Filling empty space below

It’s an Event beyond the Horizon

Drawing all without concern

It’s a fundamental Period

A full-stop, with no return.

Full on Black, in the mood to attack

The atom structure will flatten and crack

Prostrated compressed and stored

The might of Light is sucked out of sight

Hole’s a reality that can’t be ignored

She is single

She is solitary

She is a hallowed Queen

A Singularity in our universe

Her lust to consume is obscene . . .

Epic

God made us in his image, that’s what they say

Was it to teach Him to find another way

Think about this; let your conscience win

What’s this all life about, if not to teach Him?

But what’s the lesson after such a violent start

What did He expect after ripping things apart

An entire Universe from a grain of sand

Unleashed in a firestorm by the touch of His hand

“Off you go, God-Bless . . .

All He got was a spectacular mess

But The Maker is dogged, He tries to amend

With a secret ingredient; His Genesis blend

Some fire and brimstone; a dash of genetic soup

Comes a triumph of alchemy . . . The Primeval Group

But DNA isn’t perfect; something always goes wrong

Some extinction-events will help things along

But after four billion years, Life still can’t get it right

From that first wondrous moment; that initial spark of light

And the unseen consequence, the inception of night

I guess even God has to sleep

Turn out the light and start counting sheep

It’s forty-winks that terrorise and tease

And dreams of an ape who drops from the trees

Made in His image, formed to His like

Creating one from another is like riding a bike

With a start He rises to find new life born

A slumbering sigh will mark the biped’s dawn

Made from the same old script; right down to the letter

Even in His sleep, you’d think He’d know better

Always trying to create with fire

But fire wants too much; it has too much desire

To blaze, blaze, as bright as it can

All must be burned so the flames can be fanned

Truth is, He fucked up

And on a truly massive scale

But omnipotence has a weakness

He won’t admit to fail

Whatever divinity creates is divine in beauty

But sleeping on the job is a derelict of duty

But God doesn’t act on a whim

And to prove it He changed us to be more like Him

We’re the stuff of dreams, don’t forget

So He could hardly treat biped like another of His pets

We were raised to be Demi-Gods above all we survey

To treat all life below as either profit, or prey

He left biped alone, on himself to rely

To seek understanding of the who, what, when, and why?

With just a hint of guidance

From Him

From the One

His Words laid down to the Prophet, and the Son

The Creator left biped a peek, and a look

Chiselled in stone, and scrawled on leafs in a book

Words written down in an age gone-by

Directional dialogue from the great, pie-in-the-sky

But like most Godly-deeds, the endeavour comes undone

When the Biped interprets the words of the One

For only the Chosen can interpret words from the Lord

Orchestral conduction at the tip of a sword

Being wound into life to act like a cage

Those who don’t conform will be burned by His rage

So think about it; let your conscience win

What’s this life about, if not to offer Him

Something better than faith, in the guise of a weapon

A ball and chain offers invite to Heaven

Or is it Nirvana, or the Promised Land

It’s a gift for the Faithful; an ampersand

A lid left ajar

A vision for all

But only ‘the Chosen’ hear the words of His call

Those who offer clarification of His Words

They trip off the tongue to be sung by turds

Religion is hypocrisy

It closes too many doors

Teach's what we can’t achieve

Then blames it on our flaws

His words, weaponised by a fundamentalist flock

Words engaged with a target-lock

Against those who refuse to see

That interpretation will never set them free

So, like frightened little rabbits they shy from the Light

Toward the Agents of Translation who work for the Night

Demanding faith on bended knee; head bowed to be sure

Their idea of faith

Their idea of pure

So think about it; let your conscience win

What’s this life about, if not a journey toward Him

Don’t bend your knee to the radical voice

Don’t let others decide your choice

Their way will subjugate the living with guilt

Offer Virgins to the faithful on the lies that they’ve built

Oppression, slavery, the application of war

The Words of the One, they have got to mean more

Or we’ll keep on going around and around

Until the Words mean more than the letters we’ve found

Not just spoken, but taken to heart

Then the end of our being can resemble our start

Or are we just stardust from pillar to core

We burn for the moment, there can never be more

To blaze, blaze, as bright as we can

All will be burned so the flames can be fanned

And kept burning at the wrong end

Or is it both; so hard to be sure

Words of intervention, or somehow a cure

Or were they designed to wheedle out the weak

Those who say the Words, but who don’t ever speak

I know, it’s a fucking mess

It’s full on and fucked up, I have to confess

Too many directions to that, ‘better-place’

With the One-on-one,

For that face-to-face

Where all you can say, is what others have told

And I can tell you now, that excuse has got old

To argue, and promised you will go

To Paradise or Heaven; but how can they know?

If you’ve never been somewhere, you have no basis to submit

So what you preach as Religious Law, it must be full-of-shit

Do you think He, wants you, with blood you can’t disguise

That darkens your heart and glows wild in your eyes

To hear that you’ve recited hate in His name

Mate, it’s too late, to try shoving the blame

The Kingdom is waiting; you don’t need a pass

Stamped by a Priest, or a Cleric low-class

Last stop Utopia, Arcadia, or Eden

Nah, they’re just names like Uzbekistan, and Sweden

It isn’t just a name

Not simply a place

The Maker’s Realm of Judgement that each of us must face

And only He knows what’s in store for him, for me, for you

Trust me, those Holy-Doe’s, they haven’t got a clue

False Words from the filthy to convert the fool

It will be your soul laid-bare, and then strung out on view

No Virgins, no Angels . . . Just Him, and You

So before the time comes, check your account

What’s the legacy of your Testament

To what will you amount

It’s the Maker’s pattern; right down to the letter

You’d think by now that Biped would know better

Always trying to create with fire

But fire wants too much; it has too much desire

To blaze, blaze, as bright as it can

All must be burned so the flames can be fanned

Youth

When did you first see it pass

Through the pain, to the other side of the glass

That first sight of what could never be again

That Time and Tide were no longer your friend

That your ship, once rigged with a billowing pride

Is now a dinghy afloat on a Mill-Pond tide

Dragging an anchor of years through a silty bed

Long gone and buried, and now a memory instead

Trump

Donald Trump . . . Superhero, or Chump?

Not a Hollywood actor, nor a Baron of oil

He’s a towering inferno built from Homeland-soil

His footings shallow; his heart on his sleeve

He’ll make “America Great”, if that’s what you believe

Or is Trump just so different; too unique a brand?

Whose drawn a line across the world

And scored it deep into America’s sand

Because America’s heart has two beats now, for sure

Those who eat merry, and the rest who eat poor

Forgotten America; they watched their factories close

Shops board up as their townships froze

As families migrate to find work, and their pride

The Forgotten America that Washington wants to hide

And ignore; until it fell to the fates

And a man named Trump grabbed the key to the White House gates

Taking all by surprise; that he won was no mistake

The rhetoric of a hero . . .

Or the tongue of a snake?

Through the headlines and jeers, collusion appears

To hang like a shadow across the Majority’s cheers

And the realisation their great country is at war

Being fought on a field like never before

America; invaded by Russia’s cyber-elite

Who spoon-fed the masses, all they could eat

Stomped all-over, beneath the paws of a Bear

And yet the politicians in Red, they don’t seem to care

But hey, all turn to the Saviour. The Messiah who dared

Who refuses to believe that war is declared

“Putin’s our friend; he’s my buddy. There’s nothing going on.”

But the evidence is mounting to prove Trump is wrong

It leaves a shadow across a House steeped in White

As the incumbent President backs away from that fight

And the thin Red-line, they too turn their backs

Ignore the hostility as the Russian Bear attacks

Their gaze is domestic, heads down for the prize

Ending the Obama legacy; making sure it dies

Too distracted to defend against foreign attack

They’re far too busy watching the President’s back

The GOP is all-in

All out for the politically win

They’ve tied their flag to the President’s mast

Donald Trump’s at the helm, but his ship’s sinking fast

And the others? They are oh-so suited to their name

The Blues, will do anything to achieve much the same

Have the Law-Makers forgotten that good-deeds have a thirst

That they’re elected to put the American people first

Not divide the divided into tribal lines

Twisting Red or Blue into what it is that defines

Or loyalty, to one man above the Nation and Law

Even Caesar fell because he lusted for more

“We hold these truths to be self-evident . . .”

Remember these words; well spoken and true

The Rights they declare are being taken away from You

From America; The mother of Washington, Jefferson, and Lincoln

From the Land that freed all the slaves

That now belittles its own soldier’s graves

Who fought two World-Wars for freedom of speech and thought

But that’s not how Trump’s political tactics are fought

He’s a bullying kind of critter

He’s a savaging Troll through the words of Twitter

He says that bigots and racists are just, “good folk”

On the world-wide stage he promotes, America the joke

A former enigma, we’d all thought a jester

The world’s most dangerous man, and a serial-molester

Of women, the media, anyone who’s standards refuse to meet

A man who supports a paedophile (alleged), rather than lose a seat

But there’s a Russian storm brewing

Raining dollar-bills over Trump’s Towering past

The Rouble foundation, of a traitor’s predation, that Special Council will uncover at last

So what Brand of America is Trump trying to sell

A Brand that will reignite the Indian-Well.

“Make America Great”.

All it takes is hate

And all those who follow will go to Hell

The Founding Fathers penned some beautiful words in their ‘Declaration of Independence’. Fine words indulged in by hypocrites, and long-since perpetuated by liars. A fiction that their country has forever tried to reconcile and live up to. But as usual, it has failed.

Jack Black

Little Jack Black is an emotional chap

He’s wishing his life away

His options are poor, and he can only be sure

Transgender is worse than being gay

Worse still, Jack lives in a shit-hole

Where poverty means hardship and strife

So when you’re living downstream of the American Dream

Is it any wonder he wants more from his life?

Jack will work hard, and give loyalty to the flag

He’d die for Old Glory, to protect that rag

The Stars and Stripes offer freedom and hope

But Immigration for Jack is like walking on soap

So keep your mouth shut, Jack

The Republic is on the attack

They’re filling the courts

And the statistical reports

To prove all migrants are enemies of the State

The Halls of Congress fill with white supremacist hate

So Jack beware; don’t whisper dissent

The Yankie revolution, its a media-event

“Fake News, Fake News”, their new battle-cry

The Walls going up on the fourth of July

And all those Dreamers from a Mexican shack

Just drug dealing rapists; they’re all going back!

They’ve been labelled “really bad people,” just like Jack

Immigrants of terror on a Jihad attack

So watch out Jack, it’s a war of tweets

A slap on the back, and a bag-full of sweets

For all those Senators who turn a blind-eye

Who give their support, and are willing to lie

To support the President’s message

“It’s the biggest, it’s the best

White America first . . .

And go fuck the rest!

So what does Jack do; all his options are poor

Is the American Dream another ideological flaw

Is America First just a banner for hate

Donald Chump has the keys, and he’s closing the gates

TAXES

Tax filters down in so many ways

It’s a numbers game, and it’s US who pays

A licence, a permit, some incidental fees

The government thinks cash falls from trees

Their experts calculate the maximum haul

The rich find new loop-holes through which to crawl

Their wealth protected in a fortified den

Whilst the rest of us have our earnings assaulted again

We pay a quarter, or more, of all that we earn

We’re no longer a person, just a going-concern

Mercilessly preyed on; and no right to complain

Or see what happens to our Capital Gain

Pennies so abundant, like a free-fall of snow

But what do we, the burdened, really get to show

And even more important, much more than that

What happens on the day when we can no longer pay tax

When our bodies fail and our minds dither

When we can no longer pay for the Homes in which we wither

I mean, look, I don’t want to make a fuss

But the day will come, when we need them, more than they need us

We become a burden on the State

And get a taxation pass

The shoe is on the other foot

And we tax their arse

I want my pension you bastards

Give me something back

Only to find the age to claim is constantly under attack

I have to work until I’m seventy? No way

That’s not okay

And you’ve worked out the average age of demise

Into an algorithmic appraisal of my pensionable size

Fuck that . . .

A governmental assessment of longevity is mean

The gulf between deposit and withdrawal obscene

Just enough to survive is the going rate

Whether I live to make a claim is up for debate

And what if I’m sick and in need of care

Hospitalisation? No way, I’m not going there

To be left on a trolley in a hall

Patched up and told that they’re full

And what if I get to stake my claim, but my mind gets left behind

Will the government be as generous, will it respond in kind

After fifty-odd-years of paying in

Will they rally to my aid

Will they settle the bill

Will the government look after me when I’m fucked-up and ill

Or will it savage my savings in a financial sweep

Take all that I have; passing Laws to keep

As profit and loss keep butting head

In a complex financial puzzle called

‘The Algorithm of the Dead’

Bubbles

Delusions of grandeur! I think it went viral sometime in our past. Got stuck in the DNA. Overrode the reason to live. Survival of the fittest who have nothing left to give. And now we’re addicted; obsessed, I would say. The clever-Apes popped their bubble. And now they won’t go away.

So we have to keep going. There’s no way back. The slide of Evolution, it’s a one-way Track. But did we jump? Were we pushed? Hey, did we fall? Either way, I’d say, we’ve fumbled the ball.

Clever, clever, Apes

Or just defective genes?

We’re the walking wounded

We can still hear the screams.

They won’t go away. They claw at us from our past. Nothing Ape can build will ever last. How could it? Not possible. Ape is a hater, not a creator. Its only reflection; the face in the pond. In a world he’s been told he has never belonged. And we’re not getting better. It’s all getting worse. Self awareness. Man, what a fucking curse.

Since the very beginning, when we were first diagnosed. When Mother Nature thumbed up her nose. Then turned Her back. Why? Because we left the Track. We’re a runaway train with a delusional brain. Ain’t no way She’ll ever let us back again.

Insanity reigns in the world of Ape. And we’re spreading fast; to cover the Earth. Shaking the bars of our cage. We Rage! We rail against the Man. Why? Because we can. We have nothing to bring. Clever clever Ape, just does its thing. Build, break, we keep what we take. We are masters of the hunt. When it comes to the body count, Ape is a cunt!

History’s scar; it’s global and deep. Ape dropped from the trees and stood on two feet. To pop more bubbles, and make life disappear. Bubbles became extinct, year after year. Hubble-bubble, toil and trouble. The popcorn effect to burst Nature’s bubbles.

It’s a fact, Ape rules now. All others must bow. From the mighty whale to the humble cow. Atrophy is the currency of life, piles of sorrow. Ape spend his cash like there’s no tomorrow.

Ape is mad!

It’s so very sad.

The sea is no longer blue, but red. There are so many dead. What lies below the land has been mined, drilled, and pumped above the sand. Even the air thickens with Ape’s foul breath. The planet is littered with the agenda of death. And still more bubbles are found, and burst. Ape falls upon them with unquenchable thirst.

He rules supreme, like the cat with the cream. But Ape is dying, there’s a cancer in his genes. A viral plague that’s not what it seems.

It’s a self destructive flaw. That his self awareness is unable to cure. Ape popped his bubble, the air is running thin. The planet that he’s killing will ultimately win.

The world will go on; Ape will be forgotten. The world will heal of all that is rotten. If Ape is lucky, it will be back to the trees. The mighty Ape brought to his knees. And all Ape built, and then pulled back down. It will wither, rot, and return to the ground.

In time more bubbles will be blown. Wonder will return, and more life will be sown. Earth will regenerate; blow bubbles so diverse. On this little blue planet. Somewhere out there in the Universe.

The Big Fizzle

Hubble, Halley, Einstein and Trouble

How often does our Universe double

The Cosmos is growing, its drawing out

Not pushed, but pulled, by the Great-Without

It rises up from the dark, from somewhere deep

It’s ascending fast on a curve that’s steep

That nothing can stop, the pressure’s all around

A bubble being drawn, and it’s heading outward bound

So no, it wasn’t a Bang that first induced

It was pressure released after being reduced

On the outside to cause arrest at the heart

Fragment the placenta, and draw our Space apart

But from what?

Just another mystery to be solved

Another theory for science to get involved

To discover only darkness at the centre

A place where nothing again may enter

It is empty, depleted

Been drawn out and deleted

The final remnants of a Cosmological heart

Strung across space and being torn apart

Moving away at a terrifying pace

Stretching apart the fabric of space

The ‘Great Without’ now dictates our fate

And it’s making that decision at a terrifying rate

We can’t keep rising, we will reach the top

But is the Cosmos too heavy; will it wobble and flop

Will it fly apart, and will it happen soon

Is it going to burst like a blubbery balloon

Up up and away . . .

It’s a fact, we’re flying apart

Is the mighty Universe gonna fizzle out like a fart