Hungarian Crisis

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

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

Drop The Facade

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

…

Why am I so angry?

 

Why am I so angry?

Is it because I am gay

and you say I would die a like a dog at death’s door?

Or is it because I finally have my say

and you hope there is no way for me to be paid?

Or is it because you disown me

and leave me feeling lonely and mad?

Or is it the sad losses

and two crosses gathering moss is lost in the quagmire of hope?

Or is it the job losses

and the  bosses who post a print out of lies?

Or is it the silence

and the concrete sighs ends my days of stress?

Or is it the times

and the fast paced lives which drive me until I’m dead?

Or is it my life

and the linear ways of thinking my dreams away?

 

The Learned Kat

 

 

 

 

The King’s Cross and the bus driver

Everyone boarded the bus. It was quiet. There was a hum of chatter and we sat down in our seats. A young woman wearing a scarf on her head manoeuvred her small child lying in a pushchair into the requisite place. She spoke a foreign language to her child and then on the phone. An elderly white man sitting a couple of seats from her shouted and pointed his finger: “Oi! Not in this country you don’t! In this country you speak English! I fought for my country and not for people like you! If you want to speak in your own language, get back to your own land!”

The young woman apologised in a quiet voice “I’m sorry”.

There was an embarrassing silence all round.

A broad. tall chap had attempted to intervene and it created a ripple of whispers down the bus. Someone called for the bus driver to do something, which he did. He called out to the man:

“Stop that kind of talk! If you want to speak like that, get off my bus. You’re more than welcome to talk how you want but not on my bus!”

The elderly man responded with a mutter under his breath. I felt my insides churn, the heat rising within me. Do I say something or just let it lie? Before I could decide, the bus driver, who was Asian, stopped the bus and walked over to the man, who said “I fought for the King’s Cross!”

To which the bus driver replied “I don’t care if you fought for the King’s Cross or the Queen’s Country. On MY bus, you don’t talk like THAT!” “Okay, you’ve made your point, but I -” said the elderly man who was interrupted mid-speech by the driver, who continued with “Everyone in this country has a Right to live here and I will not have you abusing my passengers. I will not have you being a bully or bullying my passengers. You are a bully and if you continue, I will stop the bus again and you will have to get off.” The driver got back into his seat and for the rest of the journey, there followed a very uncomfortable air of tension, the passengers squirmed with silent indignation and the poor foreign woman looked flushed, clearly upset and distressed.

Prejudice had reared it’s ugly head and I wanted to reach out to the woman and child, apologise for what she had been subjected to, an unwarranted verbal attack on her being.

I wanted to congratulate the bus driver for his, whether rightfully or wrongfully, intervention.

I looked at the elderly passenger and felt sorry for him…

Now, tell me, how would you feel? What would you do?

The Learned Kat

Oscar: A Fallen Idol

There isn’t much that can generally shock or faze me but when I was browsing my msn homepage, I was stunned to read that Oscar Pistorius had been arrested for the murder of his girlfriend. I was in utter disbelief and looked to my other half who said he’d forgot to mention it to me in the morning.

My heart sank and I was quite upset. The first time I had seen Oscar was at the televised London Olympics 2012. First of all, I saw a very handsome, masculine athlete. He could be a model I said. Then, the cameras panned out and for a brief moment, I thought it was a bit of camera trickery, like CGI. It looked surreal and then I twigged that he was a double leg amputee and watched as the crowds roared and the commentators praised this man for his abilitities, prowess and breaking the last taboo. Here was a man, an athlete, who broke the mould for people with disabilities and what they are capable of achieving. He made history for being the very first athlete to cross over from the lesser known or least popular paralympic games into the mainstream. For a lot of people, he became an instant symbol for the disabled. He increased awareness and reduced the stigma associated with disability. He seemed to make it more accessible/acceptable by the majority. His strength, speed and stamina earned him the nickname ‘Blade Runner’ and suddenly, every newspaper, magazine and advert wanted a part of him.

Like most of the world, I was mighty impressed with his passion, committment and overall zeal for showing a new side to the much overshadowed, and in some cases, derided world of disability.

I admired Oscar for what he stood for…but then, another side of him appeared which didn’t sit too comfortably with the viewers, spectators and the media. The South African athlete lost the 200m race to another relative unknown, Brazilian Alan Oliveira. Oscar claimed he was “not running in a fair race’ and accused the Brazilian Winner of cheating and using ‘longer blades’.
This incident caused much anger, outrage and upset amongst those who were watching and following the rising star in Oscar. Some called him a very bad or ‘sore loser’. Others watched him carefully and commented that he was a very angry man who had to learn how to control or taper his anger…

Even I could see that Oscar Pistorius was a man who looked as if he were fighting inner demons. I commented that I wouldn’t “want to get on the wrong side of him”. It was almost as if he were a rottweiler and would not let go…I assume it was his management who persuaded him to show a more softer, caring side, as within hours of that very public criticism of his opponent and eventual winner, the tide was turning against Oscar. He had to show more support and empathy towards his fellow peers…

It is a shame then, that the news we have received in the last two days strikes Oscar when he appeared to have the world at his feet. A spectacular ascending star of the future, a hero to many, especially in his native country and the majority of South Africans, to see a possible end to his career before it has properly begun. The death of his girlfriend, Reeva Steenkamp (a law graduate, media reporter and model) and however or whatever the dire circumstances, cuts short the life of a young, attractive woman and leaves two lives ended.

This truly is a remarkable turn of events and a tragedy for what appeared to be a very happy, model couple.

It saddens me to think that this real life event may, if it hasn’t already done so, catch the attention of Hollywood and possibly made into a movie.

The Learned Kat