Holy smoke! We’ve a Pope! Triple Limerick.

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Well, knock me down with a feather!

There’s been a grand change in the weather,

Maga snowflakes are wilting,

God’s light’s unrelenting,

Now the Orange one’s all in a lather.

There’s a saying, cold hands and warm hearts,

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Congrat’s due to you, Sir Sadiq,

The fascists’ New Year’s looking bleak,

A brown man’s been honoured,

He’s top of his manor.

Who's having a right fit of pique?

Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh 5th January 2025

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Many a pint,

many a laugh,

many a smile,

and many the tears

over the months

and over the years.

Where now, though’s, love,

amongst these not-so-young lads,

and not-so-young girls?

Distant now,

perhaps a year ago?

the memory persists,

it’s vivid still,

the time yon mon,

distraught and close to tears,

burst through those welcoming

double doors,

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…and did those boots in World War time,

Stamp around England’s pleasant land:

And were those Blackshirt fascist sods,

From Cable Street off-seen!

Never did we countenance a time,

When journalists would see th’ Old Bill!

At dawn, a-knocking on their doors,

For telling truth, with fear instilled!

We must not cease Evil to Fight,,

Nor must my pen sleep in my hand...

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I fear for the soil

The mother and

Child in tow

The gentle hello

To my foreign wife

I fear that when

She leaves the house

She might not come back

The bus stop is danger

The supermarket

The train

Walking down the streets

I called my own

But now they are “Theirs”

And we must be quiet and hide

Until my country comes back

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“I need to flee my country?”

Stay and die

“I wish to stay in Britain?”

Then lighten your skin

Change your religion  

Don’t talk in your mother tongue

Then you will be fine

If you decide not to accept:

Bricks through your window

Be shouted at

and knocked and spat at

in the streets

Because this is the rotten cradle of democracy

...

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They claim he died

as act of protest

against the “war”.

Tools of the fascists,

gutter press

they lie and lie

whilst innocents die.

“I will no longer

be complicit

in genocide”,

were his words.

“Free Palestine”

he screamed out

in his agony,

at least three times.

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On Cable Street in ‘thirty-six

they said ¡No Pasarán! keeping Fascists at bay

with chamber-pots pouring, with fists kicks and bricks.

But on that hypocrites’s watch, in ‘twenty-three,

they said “¡Pasarán! it’s the Fascists field day”,

Spanish Nazis and Blackshirt admirers roamed free

on Preston’s streets, decency slayed;  

our ex-home secretary now protests for genocide,

...

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Cyclops

Facing the world through his single myopic eye

Cyclops could not see the depths of perspective

those essential details that are there for you & I

The fixed stare from his unnatural gaze alarmed one & all

pity that poor guy with no balance in his views of life

can he help being a fascist with a mind so very small?

©Rhumour

May2nd 2014

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Peaceful citizens in the peaceful Ukraine.

Peaceful hard hats on the peaceful heads,

Peacefully breaking the slavers chain

Peacefully fight and protest.

If one is not peaceful, there’s no place here.

Peaceful slogans and peaceful “Hooray”

Peacefully kicking without a fear

Those who happened to fall on the way.

All is so peaceful, so white and so fluffy.

Peacefu...

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