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December Rain

18 Dec

December Rain

The green cavalcade worms it way through dry, arid sands before it retreats,
White sirens call for help
Whilst white helmets dip their hands in warm decay
Lift out souls day to day

A city once thriving
A population once living
A story hard to believe in
A young man hides in a room
With nervous voice at ready
Tells the world
The rain is heavy

December rain.

Choke back the tears
Don’t realise the fears
He seems like the walking dead
He keeps his sanity
On the brink of insanity
He loosens his tongue instead.

He describes the conditions
The loss of medication
The need for salvation
The loneliness and isolation
He focuses on the living
Like rats in a dark room
His words are full of pain
As he tries to ignore the rain

December rain.

He names the West for lack of trying
A sad regime keeps fighting the dying
Hearing voices he ignores the calling
The rain non stop, continues falling

December rain

He speaks from a cold empty space
Describes his world as a dark, dark waste
Saliva on his lips like honey would taste
As his eyes wide open says
There is no haste

For the December rain
Keeps burning down
Hot like fire
It’s a burning hell
Freedom for the fighters
Rebellious, pray tell
Dropped by the President
The rain has a shell.

Syria.

Orlando Jo

1 Jul

My brain is being bombarded by death all around,
Voices are grieving and spirits are weeping,
the laughter is dying and mothers are crying, fathers spout hatred while Lovers are hiding, music is fading and sirens are blaring,
MPs are screaming and Muslims are praying Death to the Infidels!
Wet are the tears of my blood on your hands
Silenced is my shock if the world takes a stand.

Every Death Is A Dollar

1 Jul

Every death is a dollar
Donald Trump rejoices and holla
The Killer is not my Allah
50 and more no longer
Live on earth
We should be stronger
Rainbow Voices knows no colour
United we stand
There’s the armour
Decisions to be made
Says Barack Obama
Gun laws are crazed
U.S law is a maze
Rainbow Flag we will wave
In sad times a haze
Gay stories we share

From cradle to grave
Acceptance we crave.


 

Hungarian Crisis

22 Sep

20130702_173840-1

Close the borders

Sink the ships

Close your eyes

Hear the lies

Wretched Syrian lives

Watch young children die

Read the papers

Step away from the Haters

Block out the whispers

Could be your sisters

Rock the boat

Young children float

Beach babe lies asleep for eternity.

Feel the pain

This crisis is insane

ISIS inhumane

Cameron to blame

Him and Tony are the same

Weapons of Mass Destruction

or oil finery construction

Whatever the story

It’s Middle East devastation

A migrant exodus

Refugee lives are precious

Compassion is what binds us

Love nurtures us

Young men are crying

Innocence is smiling

Through the rain

We can never understand,

It’s not so plain

In the UK hostility is just a game

Hosting is to blame

And the land is full of aliens

“Leave the education!

Tear down NHS!

Rip Off the Benefits Systems!”

Prejudice. Selfishness. Hate.

Train ride is serious

Walking on foot delirious

News reports people are generous

Hungarian Crisis

What becomes of Us?

Hungarian Crisis

What will become of Us?

Women lying in the lay-by

Police waiting to say Goodbye

waving batons to push aside

Syrian bombing

Nowhere to hide…

The Status of a Zombie

16 Mar

Once, I knew where

my life was leading

But now I have nothing at all

I don’t have any tears to shed

as the worries have bled me dry

Debt mounting up and

ambition ebbing

heartache burning and breathing slowing

The numbness I feel is immense

And that’s the irony

Or is it a paradox?

I feel and yet I don’t feel

I am nothing but a Zombie

Awake yet not awake

Dead but not dead.

But I might as well be

For I have nothing

Nothing to my name to make me feel

Sane.

The man without status.

Status.

Is it important to me?

Yes, it is.

Why?

Without standing for recognition and acceptance

in this world

We have nothing

We are nobodies

I am a Nobody

I am _________

I am

I am a face without a name

I am lost

I am a man without a clause

in a contract

A contract to give me status

Status in life  brings

food on the table

Better wellbeing and health

Attracts new people and experiences

Attracts – like flies around shit

Without status, treated like shit

That’s ironic isn’t it?

Irony or paradox

Irony.

A man without status

might as well be a Zombie.

DEAD.

(c) The Learned Kat CF7

Drop The Facade

27 Feb

Melancholia shrouds my soul

Life stormy on the brink of a hell hole

fingers burning with black flames

heavy heart laden with pain

tears dripping amulets of blood

life ebbing a drought not floods

cases of anarchy explode in my brain

counting on Two, keeping me sane

a life faltering, falling free

enclosed in a den of devilish men

Take a knife and slice the cord

shabby4

The Victorian Era in 2015

27 Feb

I haven’t been on here for ages. So much has happened since my last post, and I may be able to write about it in the near future, but for now, I will share this poem:

The stresses of my life are bringing me down gone are the days when I smiled like a clown brain activity pounding on my crown dead are my thoughts – racing – breaking me down, cold is my heart tearing me apart government sanctions and interventions corpses created without stimulation smoking weed restrictions taking no heed, patois speakers taking the lead, no money mo’ problems, calling suicide at the door, rock bottom life hitting the floor.

crazy like a fox, sitting around scratching at my face wanting to use a loaded mace, suicide beckons, a slash of the wrist, take a tumble, pretend you’re pissed. Weight bearing down, life closing in, Loved ones departed, you’re living in sin. Tension mounts, and bodies grow hard While fat cats of London, circle the Shard We’re not The Simpsons or in a Rainbow world Rep 3
People’s lives are messing by the cruel cruel Lords While fat cats of London, circle the Shard. We’re not The Simpsons or in a Rainbow world, people’s lives are messing by the cruel cruel Lords.