The Evidence of Love in Grace [poem]

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the_evidence_of_love_in_grace

The more my years have multiplied,
the more I’ve come to realise
that even more important
than mere love
is grace.

For love is soon misunderstood
misused abused and trampled on
and has as many meanings as
its theatre actors choose to give,
who live by their escapist dreams,
believing pheromones, it seems,
and so much wanting to be loved
that they will heed whatever words
some cad will whisper in their ear
(for almost everything is ruled
by fear of death, abandonment —
which are the warp and woof of
all that stands between ourselves
and evidence of love through grace).

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Romance is Dead (& Gone) [sonnet]

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dead_roses

Romance is dead. Therefore, long live true love!
When all worth saying has been said, I raise
my hat and bow my head, remove the glove
which romance uses well to mask love’s blaze.

Romance, I now pronounce you dead and gone.
You once amused me with your froth and dreams
when I was young and hung my hat upon
a plethora of June-Moon-Spoonly schemes.

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Live Dangerously! [sonnet]

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live_dangerously

Live dangerously! and grasp that nettle
by the leaves — the rose by its spiky thorns
(ignoring the allure of each petal) —
then grab the bullock by its gory horns.

Be sure you never quickly turn away
when darkness rears its ugly little head.
Walk naked straight into the maelstrom fray
regardless if it leaves you there for dead.

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Hiatus [sonnet]

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PM5544 with non-PAL signals

From now until my heart can take no more,
my lips are sealed; my pen bereft of ink.
My soul’s less sturdy than it was before;
my wild, demented brain too scaRRed to think.

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The Price of Perfectionism [poem]

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Perfectionism

There is a price to be paid for perfectionism’s
purple pros(e)aically prejudiced plume
which we can grownly assume is roughly equal to:
EITHER
ª  The harsh disapproval directed one’s way
     [for high expectations will always dismay
     as low self-esteem and a lack of resolve
     result in resentment, so none get involved!].
OR
ª   The aloneness one has (dressed in freedom’s disguise)
    [for almost the whole world will run for their lives
    when they hear of the earnest desire to preserve
    one’s nature unswervingly: “He’s got a nerve!”]

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What Lies Behind the British General Election 2017

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Politics as Entertainment Division

SO OFTEN, I FIND A LITTLE SIGH COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH when I see so many of my friends — both in real life and on social media — become so easily caught up in the razzmatazz of national election processes, whether presidential or parliamentarian. How any mature person could take seriously these very obviously staged theatrical productions is quite beyond me. Every few years, the power-elite (secret global government) which really controls everything — consisting of secret fraternities, ancient families, plus the upper echelons of military, intelligence, security and law enforcement agencies in collusion with diplomatic/civil services — allows the people to imagine they are part of a democracy which chooses its government. It is an extremely clever and effective strategy. But it makes monkeys out of everyone.

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Sonnet on the General Election

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General-Election-8th-June-2017-1080x675

She told me people died so I could vote.
At which I said: “O, what a bloody waste!
Forgive me if I do not sugarcoat
my words”. She stared at me, all stony-faced.

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