Posts Tagged ‘Poem’

I just found this among lots of draft blogs.  I could probably add something about The Three Little Pigs but for the sake of posterity I’ll leave it as it was written.

Let us not rush into any more wars,
Not on the word of a liar,
If only his nose grew like little Pinocchio,
Or his pants really did catch on fire.
He is an actor that has learned his trade,
In the Skull and Crossbones secret ways.
He plays with false flags,
As he drives around in jags
Acting like we’re all toys
Here for the joy of the Eton boys
To die in their wars
While inflicting more sores
In a world already so deeply scarred
Minds so terribly marred
Step back from the madness we see
It’s the only way clearly to see
We’ve been programmed with the language of lies
Terror’s been spread in their well acted sighs
Contagious the disease has run wild
Infecting the future of every child
Now they’re calling for more war?
As Scotland’s showing Westminster the door
We ain’t playing your rules,
You blood-thirsty fools
The extremists are your creation,
A result of bombing a nation
Well that and your skulduggery
And out and out thuggery
You think we don’t know
How you write the full script
Then play it over and over in our minds
Our emotions heightened to blind
The tears we have cried at the times you have lied
Have left a gift in their place,
With clarity we looked at the news,
No longer buying your views
Stop acting like we have no choice
And start listening as we speak with one voice
We will not be manipulated any more,
We will no longer fight in your wars
Gone are the ways of the past,
Our true voice set free at last
Peace the proclamation as we move forward with glee,
Reclaiming our sovereignty, we set ourselves free
Into a future at one with the World
Educating and empowering the boys and the girls.
Creating a future that shines a bright light,
On leading with love instead of dominating with might
We’re so close now Scotland, and the death throes are messy
And Cameron may be a bully but he’s also a big jessie!!
He’ll pull out every tool he can find to even the field
But it’s harvest time now and it’s time to yield
The future they planned is ours for the taking.
A future at peace is one we’ll be making
Decommissioning Trident with our courageous hearts
Showing the world we can have a fresh start
No longer tied to the bondage of past
Finally from the chains we’ve broke free at last
Imagining the future, drawing it close
Energising the vision, we want to see most.
Vote YES on the 18th September,
A day future generations will always remember.

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You can’t take away my sovereignty, it was gifted straight to me.

You can’t con me out my sovereignty cos all your tricks I see.

You can’t destroy my sovereignty, it’s in the life I’ve lived.

You can’t devolve my sovereignty, it isn’t yours to give.

You can’t buy my sovereignty, it comes with no price tag.

You can’t banish my sovereignty or hide it with a flag.

You can’t wipe away my sovereignty, like life itself, it lives on

You can’t erase my sovereignty by trying to change our song

You can’t deny my sovereignty, or weigh it in your hands

You can’t re-write my sovereignty, interwoven with this land.


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Hey there Jack, I hear you’re all right.

Everything’s going great and your future is bright.

I’m glad, in fact I’m relieved as hell.

I’m just wondering if you heard the warning bell.

Your friends have been ringing, please answer the call.

Though it’s good for you, it’s not for us all.

I don’t mean to scare you, it’s not my way.

But there’s some things you need to know today.

The poor are being savaged by policies of greed,

And unlike you, they don’t have all that they need.

They are going hungry, being shut out in the cold.

In fact our whole countries already been sold.

Those politicians with the sneering grins,

Don’t even pretend to create a win-win.

They are screwing us all to the floor.

While their puppet masters scream,

“More, more, more.”

The funeral business is thriving,

While others are barely surviving.

Suicide, heart attacks all on the increase.

Let’s stop for a minute and honour the deceased.

I’m glad your job is going so well,

for how long in this climate it’s hard to tell.

I hope you never fall on hard times.

and no-one turns their back with no reason or rhyme.

I pray you always have someone to care.

Someone who whispers I’ll always be there.

You are the someone who has it within.

To start the process of creating a win-win.

By starting to notice and starting to care.

To be that person who sees what is there.

I’m glad you’re all right, Jack. I really am.

You’ve got all you need to see through this scam.

Maybe if you weren’t so lost in yourself.

We wouldn’t be hurtling straight towards hell.

It’s not too late, we’ve still got time.

To change the tempo and write a new rhyme.

People before profits before it’s too late.

A nation that sees everyone as great.

Though my heart is heavy, my faith is not dim.

As in the ocean of madness we continue to swim.

Sense and sensibility what happened to them,

in this World controlled by mad men.

Jack please take care and remember this,

it’s not in having it all we experience bliss.

It’s sharing a hug, or helping a friend.

It’s giving a shit until the very end.

I hope you see with time left to spare.

When those you love are all still there.

When it’s not too late to say “I’ve been blind.”

And those who love you say “I don’t mind.”

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Sensing the Cycles

Going through the motions,

as the world goes round and round.

The stunning colours entrance me,

as I tune into the sounds

Western winds are calling,

drowning out the cold

Curious if I could translate,

would I know what I’d been told.

Crunching through the leaves

as they lay upon the ground.

adding another dimension

to all the autumn sounds.

Drop after drop

the rain caresses my cheek,

wondering will I find

this treasure that I seek.

The reds, the golds,

shining so bright.

As the autumn passes

like day becomes night.

Winter chills here now

and I want my bed.

The freezing temperatures

the thing that I dread.

Hibernating and renewing,

all the years toil has taken.

Letting go like the trees

whose leaves have been shaken.

Is it true ever snowdrop,

is really unique?

If we knew the answer,

would it lose its mystique?

Catching a snowflake,

on the tip of my tongue.

Melting away

I catch another one.

A taste? I wonder,

but I’m not quite sure.

What I do know is,

it’s time for indoors.


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They want it for their HQ, this country that we live.
I know it sounds crazy, but it isn’t theirs to give.
They’ve already stole our profits, which can be read both ways.
They’ve already clouded too many, of our brightest days.
They’re squandering our inheritance and they’ll destroy this magical land
That’s why it’s so important, we walk forward hand in hand.
Our tourist industry the focus, but who is going to gain?
If we just keep repeating history over and over again.
The momentum has been building and people are more aware,
with brave hearts walking forwards,  showing the world we care.
The hidden hands grip is tight, finger-prints all over our land.
so please keep on searching, ’til you truly understand.
Remember the stewards the care-takers of the soil,
who understood the value, of our daily toil
Let us open up our eyes and look around and see,
that history’s not as straight forward as it appears to be.
A legacy of hate has blighted our name,
now a story of love can re-ignite our flame.
Disconnected, confused, blighted by lies,
can’t even hear the Earth as she sighs.
It’s time to connect, to tune into our hearts,
it’s the easiest way to get a fresh start.
Forgiving ourselves for mistakes we have made,
accepting where we’ve got to today.
Learning the lessons from all that went before,
writing a future, we can rejoice for evermore.

Curiousity no 5





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No More Page 3

The boobs are aff the brekkie bar, aboot time a’naw
Every time I seen it, it made me clench my jaw.
We just kinda accept thing’s even when we know they’re wrong,
Just because it’s been normal, for far too bloody long
We’re more than a pair of tits, and the bodies we inhabit.
So if you’ve still got ane, you wanna check yer ogling habit.
I’m so glad my daughter’s won’t inhabit the same world
Where every can of Tennent’s comes wae a nearly scuddy girl.
It’s not like I’m an auld prude but it’s just so blinking rude.
Everything has a time and a place but I’m glad the tits are outta my face!


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Swallow the frog, they told me.

It seemed like a fair idea.

But where were the instructions,

For when I’d been consumed by fear.

It’s all right saying swallow it,

but it had already eaten me.

While I was inside starving,

The frog had eaten its tea.

Inside the sounds were deafening

As digestion problems arose.

Lots of grumbling and groaning,

I couldn’t help it, I froze.

I couldn’t see the light,

As the clenching muscles tightened,

It’s never easy to admit,

But I was bloody frightened.

Swallow the frog they told me,

But I’d been consumed myself.

Maybe if I’d been quicker.

I wouldn’t be in this hell.

Maybe if I’d been stronger,

I’d have beaten the frog hands down.

Maybe it I’d been wiser,

Instead of behaving like a clown

Maybe if I’d been brighter,

Or asked for help sooner,

Maybe if life was easier,

And we weren’t trained consumers.

Maybe I could escape,

This situation I’d encountered,

If only I could stop myself

as I spiraled downward.

Bruised and beaten,  by the frog eaten.

Eyes tired from greeting but my heart was still beating.

It’s not over yet, I can still turn it round.

Just need to get my feet on solid ground.

Guts still churning I took a deep breath,

Faced with the prospect of sudden death.

With it all to play for I decided to take a chance,

And now me and the frog have started to dance.

I conquered the fear, I lifted the cloud.

I’d faced the demons and unwrapped the shroud.

Reborn again with the lessons intact.

He’ll not eat me again and that’s a fact!



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federation of writers Scotland

The Federation of Writers (Scotland) is an organisation dedicated to making the written and spoken word available to the public of Scotland, with respect for diversity and recognition of additional support needs. Caidreachas nan Sgrìobhaiche (Alba) ’S e prìomh-amas Caidreachas nan Sgrìobhaiche (Alba) litreachas sgrìobhte is labhairte a chur mu choinneamh poball na h-Alba, a’ toirt spèis do dh’iomadachd agus feumannan-taice a bharrachd.


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