Tuesday, 11 March 2014

A nation of discontent: The Commons

The union's place of ancient power,
cradled with those within,
from public glare they deliberate and cower,
and condemn our thoughts as sin,
refuse to listen to our pleas,
with every passing vote,
a castle without water or trees,
defenceless without a moat.

Motions passed with incompetence,
motions a people all concede,
most a situation without importance,
a detriment on a people they impede,
a question we all need,
in order to defeat,
those our power to us deceive,
with comfort on their leather seats.

These people will not learn,
and never shall be wise,
to ignore when your people yearn,
the people then shall rise,
to install their sense of freedom,
a revolution the people need,
to renew our kingdom,
as a garden removes a weed.

They like to talk of fairness,
a subjective definition,
though under our new Blairess,
fairness without fruition,
when the majority have to pander,
but how can it be fair,
the majority a double standard,
when the minority they mostly care.

Whether age, health, sex or skin,
when all to blame for another,
a scapegoated majority treated akin,
some are more equal than others,
This is where the politicians hide,
within the halls rustic,
and remove themselves from the people's side,
and deny our people's critique.

And this is where our laws are made?
they buy what others sell,
where laws are treated as passing trade,
 all mostly from Brussels,
where are we to hold account,
when others make our laws,
from those we hold without reasonable doubt,
the people deserve more.

Why do we elect these swine?
as our vote matters not,
as we pay our levied tithe,
those centrists leave us there to rot,
from the beauty of the outside walls,
the cancer lay within,
sell our nation as the Eagles whore,
our blood - our armies bathes in.

These elected serve not our will,
only their own ambition,
yet blood they will happily spill,
on America's black gold mission,
They speak of Multiculturalism,
as if that makes things better,
if we don't conform before the Cataclysm,
our minds arrested and fettered.

This house is without independence,
when pressured they consistently yield,
without citizen recompense,
we lay dead upon their battlefield,
take heed from their poisoned words,
the serpent's tongue needs a whetstone,
supporters of this venomous hoard,
 their skulls prop up the grindstone.

This house needs to stand upon it's own two feet,
instead of on it's knees,
bring yourselves out of those seats,
allow us to be free,
enslaved under western rhetoric,
these slavers hold the whip,
ode to the people's twist,
the contract is ours to rip.

Saturday, 8 March 2014

The road to Tsardom.

In light of the Russian intervention within the Crimea. I have to notice and write about the utter hypocrisy of the Western world and how I am ashamed to reside here.

Ukraine in trouble and turmoil,
protestations and riots thus embroil,
Kiev in northern flames aside,
and southern bears of Russian tongue reside,
Whilst they worry - the Russian proper awakens,
and armies gather on the border adjacent.

Putin leads as champion of the east,
as Alpha of all of Russia's beasts,
unorthodox methods for motherland rejoice,
orthodox God for Ukraine and cower by choice,
Half of Ukraine bow before might,
half plead wrongful for western insight.

He does this for his people protect,
compared to western arrogance and western neglect,
the Russian bear draws sword and sharpens his teeth,
while in the west we delight at hypocrisy's feast,
Putin's goals and noble aims,
makes us seem foolish compared to our oil games.

John Kerry America's malcontent,
under hypocrisy's firmament,
his policies are highly inappropriate,
a betrayal of reason and Logic's Iscariot,
They have no reason - who are they to invade?
Remember Iraq, Afghanistan? Logic Betrayed!

President Putin your title defames,
character dwarfs political aims,
taking Ukraine with ease,
crown thine-self and do as you please,
thine infamy has spread from near to far,
Take away the pressure and name thine-self Tsar!

Tuesday, 11 February 2014

A nation of discontent: Prologue

This is dedicated to the ever dedicated genii within the halls of power whom we vote yet receive no right to object compared to that of our Celtic brethren.

All across our glorious isle,
one nation feeling pain,
three are Celts and stood beguiled,
the English left in chains.
where's the glory upon my land?
while other's a freedoms song,
where the Celts reveal a tempered hand,
then muzzle the English tongue.

With our money they change the topic,
their people have an institution'd voice,
with our money they line their very pocket, 
in our oppression they rejoice.
whilst we welcome all who come,
what money is left they've spent it,
with this formula from a Baron,
who goes by the name of Barnett.

While these nations plenty prosper,
St George falters and dives,
in England our money goes to whom I wonder?
our silence loud and poverty thrives,
now our union splits apart,
more from our English rage,
a new beginning and a fresher start,
foretold a prophesied sage.

By St George set our England free,
save us from pillage and plunder,
relieve our people in our time of need,
redemption from the Socialist blunder,
the contract that they carved in stone,
Britannia is broken at it's borders,
revolution's shot and overthrown,
chaos gone with renewal of order.

Maybe our people should stand and march,
and rattle the sharpened Sabre,
from those our freedom that they clutch,
Show them our kingdom has gotten braver,
remind to those with given power,
it it OUR will that they serve,
drawing near to the darkest hour,
by blood or words it's our right that we reserve.

Sunday, 24 March 2013

My Ode to Joy

Joy, a simple human pleasure,
Daughter of the one divine,
God's one closely guarded treasure,
A placement on the holy shrine,
Created from the sparks of thunder,
A magic born from bursts of light,
We as brothers join in wonder,
Our wings ablin from restless flight.

Luck with those of favour's fortune,
To have another as a friend,
More to have a love's affection,
Jubilation among all men,
A mark of life on the very soul,
A beam of light has struck the earth,
Heat beneath the darkest coals,
Relieves the cold around the hearth.

Joy, a drink to all life's creatures,
Upon the first of nature's bloom,
A toast to all life's ornate features,
Followed down a rose clad coombe,
A tender kiss from her pure lips,
And a friend forever until death,
A gift of wine from which we sip,
A closeness to feel her subtle breath.

Joyful, as our sun still flies,
Across our maker's bold design,
We run our race among the skies,
Nature upon her beaut sublime,
Even down with Earth's hellhaftlings,
Joyful smiles are seen to gleam,
Redemption upon those cursed things,
Joy will enhance the living dream.

Joy, a symbol of devotion,
Happiness through song and less,
Simple love and fond emotions,
soothing like your child's caress,
E'en a friend may be your brother,
A firm bond not bound by blood,
E'en a sister, or your mother,
Brings silence to the deafening thud.

Joy is yet still but one word,
One to state what's been always there,
Attraction between common people,
Common bonds that we all share,
Upon the tallest of all mountains,
Peace brought with the strongest Dove,
Over seas of clouds we're certain,
Nothing compares between the soul and love.

Tuesday, 5 February 2013

Fire and Fury

Shall the end be the void?
And the realm in darkness?
Shall our freedoms be destroyed?
A nations worth be less?

It has only just begun,
our binds have just been set,
the curse has just been sung,
now a group of leaders pet.

Being told what to do,
force fed to us our dinner,
some words without a clue,
Rage brought unto a simmer.

Repressed to us our passion,
forced unto a blight,
our expressions mostly ashen,
must we resort to fight?

Must we need one culture,
brothers bound by chains,
told we must mature,
thoughts that must be slain.

Brothers forced together,
forced against their will,
each without their freedom,
one an urge to kill.

Oppression of a people,
laws we can't abide,
we're without our say,
when fire and fury collide.

When brothers are in rage,
in their pain they shall unite,
to destroy the words and page,
to bring about their rights,

A vision of fury in every heart,
with flames that make them stumble,
revolution turned to the finest art,
flames that make a building crumble.

The leader is a martyr,
with his freedom as his soldiers,
as the crumbled turns to ash,
a new path we choose to sculpture,

From the fires and the ash,
we choose our new lives,
a Phoenix born from death,
the beauty begins to thrive,

Nations of cooperation,
of alliance, wealth and trade,
all to answer to each others calls,
all our debts repaid.

Out of war and violence,
a utopia shall be born,
our freedoms shall be recompensed,
a new pedestal without scorn.

Together but apart,
it's better off this way,
to the roles we now can act,
the paths we like to play.

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

When I see you

I live a day of limitless wonder,
With you standing by my side,
with this chance I cannot blunder,
To you my soul is tied.

I give my heart, my mind, my body,
My love for you to see,
Let my words be embraced to thee,
For honour and for glory.

I provide my faith and spirit,
And pledge my warmth to you,
To warm you when you're frozen,
To keep you from the blue.

Your smile is always with me,
At every night and day,
I pledge undying loyalty,
To you so far away.

When we part,
I can't but help to run and chase,
To run and try to find you,
To gain my loves embrace.

Alone I watch my mirror,
You're always standing near,
To reflect upon my demons,
You take away my fear.

When it's time to visit,
And when you look at me,
Reality replaces spirit,
And attention turns to thee.

I give my waking hours,
To please until you leave,
Why think of sudden departures,
And create what we believe.

I lay and embrace you,
As a moon would kiss the night,
Whilst all the stars are watching,
Our minds behold the light.

We behold the gods of old,
From Minerva to Epona,
I have to speak so bold,
Like gods we last forever.

At night the bed is humble,
With time to stay astride, 
With each day I grow to miss you,
I hold and stay beside.

The love I feel grows,
When we lay to rest,
Together we stay close,
With your head upon my chest.

You gaze into my eyes,
With temptation complete with charm,
Placed yourself upon me,
Our love remaining calm.

Excitement fills my mind,
I cannot let you be,
Our hearts synced in euphoria,
With passion complete with ecstasy.

After time where we're empowered,
Our hunger begins to tire,
Insatiable our thirst,
We gaze and further admire.

We sleep and dream again,
Our hearts becoming one,
A new day springs from dawning,
Many stars becoming one.


Time to reveal to those who are blind,
not in anger but paid in kind,
life is hard and unforgiving,
half of me chained in a place where I ought not to be living.

Faith is hard to keep intact,
when only half, a lie, is a scene to act,
chained is the half where time is for song,
released is the world where I surely don't belong.

A mind constrained where half is locked without a key,
pleased with the thoughts I give to thee,
I hath some problems say it ain't so,
a world where sadness is to be left alone.

A life without care is one of sadness and grief,
meetings with others now are impromptu and brief,
days are short and half is hidden in sleeves,
left to rot with the falling of autumn leaves.

Half is where I live as a lover of men,
left hidden in the dark with the evil condemned,
why not all appear with a liberated compassion?
A lover to all whose tears cannot reach heaven.

The other half rises with the soaring of the moon,
where darkness overtakes and sight becomes entombed,
I look to each new day with the rising of the sun,
I look with new hope and these chains be undone.

I tire at the struggle where I yearn to break free,
emancipation with a flag to drape over me,
I look to all with compassion and liberty,
rising with my soul to the standards of nobility.
I plead to you with a rallying call,
to help me for without thee, I fall.