Bonnie Madleen

I first had the idea for this song / poem on hearing the news about the good ship Madleen, setting out for Gaza.

Thunberg and her crewmates were not “deported” from Israel, as reported in the biased media, they were released after the Madleen and her crew were illegally abducted to Israel, and her cargo stolen.

The so-called “personalities” - several failed “comedians” amon...

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The Lord and Lady Airhead-Jones

Swim naked in the sea;

The last remaining patriot

Is hanging from a tree,

And doubters laugh at the idea

That this land could be free.

 

Old soldiers in the nursing home

Binge out on TV dross,

While brass behind the bunker’s door

Will not admit their loss,

And the well-heeled party members

Could scarcely give a toss.

 

The c...

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Beware, ye lords who preach of holy shame, Who cage the heart with doctrines carved in stone. Love answers not to dogma, law, or name— Its realm is soul, not scripture, nor your throne. No rite can ban what pulses in the skin, No creed can curse the heat that makes us whole. What blasphemy is love, if love is sin? What god would strike the mercy from a soul? Two hearts ignite beyond ...

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Yesterday, 80 years ago, at 3:30 p.m., Adolf Hitler chose cowardice over facing responsibility, taking his own life in the Führerbunker and ending the war he started. His suicide marks a stark reminder that no dictatorship, no matter how powerful it seems, can endure forever. History has shown time and again that those who rule through fear and oppression will ultimately face their reckoning. Whet...

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BIGOTS MADE LEGLESS

KNEECAPPED BY NOTHING BUT TRUTH

SPRINGTIME FOR FREEDOM

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Saoirse don Phalaistín!

Justice must win!

Freedom for Palestine!

Their freedom’s thine,

Their freedom’s mine.

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NB. My original intention, somewhat clumsily expressed, was to voice the thoughts of 

A. someone benignly called a "settler", who, in any other context would be a considered a terrorist and a thief.

B. the so-called "Christian" mercenaries who, based in RAF Akrotiri, enable that genocide and ethnic cleansing.

I consider a re-post of “Land and Freedom” to be highly appropriate, in view of ...

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I fell into a fever of dreams

Where nothing was as it seems

The world had changed, liberty frail

Captain Ahab v the great white whale

I saw the moon turning red

The autumn leaves crisply dead

Underfoot and underhand

Fill the graves with shifting sands

When Heaven falls, Hell will rise

Through corporate suits, & silken ties

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To Glucksmann, this no longer fits with Trump’s current policies. The U.S. president is taking harsh action against immigrants, among other things. Since his inauguration on January 20, thousands of migrants have been arrested and deported to their countries of origin. The U.S. rapprochement with Russia in the context of the war in Ukraine is also likely part of the background to Glucksmann’s dema...

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A chilling warning about the state of American democracy, as power consolidates under the hands of a few. With Trump and Musk at the helm, the nation’s soul is being dismantled, and the world trembles at the impending rise of a new dictatorship. This poem tries to capture the essence of a regime fuelled by greed, secrecy, and the crushing of basic freedoms, marking a dark chapter in history.

...

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Today, three years ago, Russia launched its brutal invasion of Ukraine, shattering peace and unleashing a wave of destruction. Towns were levelled, lives torn apart, and a nation thrust into an endless struggle for survival. Despite the relentless violence, Ukraine remains unyielding, its people refusing to surrender. The world has watched as the cost in blood and suffering continues to rise, and ...

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Alexei Navalny stood defiantly against oppression, his voice a relentless force for truth in the face of tyranny. Even in captivity, his courage never wavered, his resolve never bent. Reverberating Voice of Resistance is a tribute to a man who fought until his last breath, today a year ago, a reminder that silence can never bury the echoes of justice.
 

Barred behind steel, but never confined,
...

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I believed, because we believe all the time.
We believe in the structures around us,
in what we were taught, in the promises made to us.
I believed in what was given to me as certain,
in love that is, at the same time, a bond and a prison.

But time, that relentless teacher,
showed me that truth is plural,
that certainties fade away,
that the world is complex,
and that true freedom comes...

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Leaving Egypt behind to follow the God

Who set you free.   Humbling... frightening...

To those accustomed to the yoke of slavery;

Because in the comfort and misery of bondage

There is not much need for faith.

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A poetic exploration of a mind poisoned by the omnipresent specters of Donald Trump and E. Musk. This piece hopefully captures the relentless mental siege and especially the detox from Trump's toxic influence. It is a vivid depiction of inner turmoil and the quest to reclaim clarity and freedom.

Each waking thought, his specter reappears,
A gaudy brute who feeds on hate and strife.
He storms ...

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In A Deal With the Devil, or The Scales of Justice Shattered, the poem condemns Donald Trump’s arbitrary pardons of over 1,500 criminals (the so-called J6), highlighting the dangerous erosion of justice under his unchecked power. This is a call to confront the corruption that distorts the law and undermines accountability, as power bends the rules to serve its own interests. A sing...

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This sonnet critiques the dangerous alliance between powerful tech moguls and a corrupt political figure, symbolised by the "four musketeers" who bow to Trump’s person, influence and might. It explores their sycophantic behaviour, the manipulation of media, and the betrayal of values for profit and power. The poem hopefully paints a chilling portrait of cowardice dressed as strength and the erosio...

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"The Fact-Check Paradox" explores the contradiction at the heart of modern fact-checking: while meant to clarify truth, fact-checkers often impose their own interpretations, leaving people uncertain about what’s verified and what isn’t. This creates a paradox where the pursuit of truth may, in fact, cloud independent judgment. The poem tries to emphasise the need for individuals to think for thems...

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I can feel fire in my veins

Red roses set aflame 

Burning embers 

Passionate rage 

A suffocating feeling I can't escape 

 

I feel like running away 

To some faraway place 

Where even the stars 

Wont remember my name 

 

I might lose myself 

In a faraway world 

Hiding away 

In my secret escape 

 

Time is an illusion 

And I'm caught up in the confusi...

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The Gilded Fist of Greed is a call to awaken from the suffocating grip of wealth and power. This poem tries to unveil the stark reality of a world held hostage by the few like Musk, Zuckerberg or Bezos et al., as they manipulate nations, control media, and plunder the earth. It warns of the destructive consequences of unchecked greed and the looming threat of totalitarian dominance. Yet, in its co...

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In sleep I see the nail

Pass through the yielding flesh;

Jesus knew about that.

 

But we are skin and bone,

Already. No reserves

Of fat or of muscle.

Bare bones. No resistance.

Every strike and rumble

A nail, hammered, pinpoint,

Into the joints and cracks.

The torment forcing us

Towards strange submission.

 

Soon we could be up there,

On the cross, con...

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Sticking to a theme instead of writing what comes to mind
I'd simply put pen to paper and let the thoughts flow fully
Having an idea to think to is unnatural and code breaking
Let me write as though I am indeed free

Voyage to the caverness depths of everything
Float above the shallow reality of living
Shackled by 
Oh, the cream of this doughnut is filling

Dark but bright 
Light but gr...

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A nation flooded with laws is condemned by power, which adapts and manipulates them to its convenience and fancy

A nation overburdened with laws is condemned by the rulers who use them to control and punish those who do not conform and do not accept to kneel

When the fate of the people is placed in the hands of a few, the lives of millions hang in the balance, and the glow of nihilism and fe...

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In my innocence I was brave...

And knew no fear,

No boundaries, no limits, no doubts,

Unable to imagine my spirit contained.

 

The sky was open...

Then came that ceiling,

That flattened the top of my head,

And crowded my dreams with fear.

 

The ceiling was clear...

You could see right through,

Unwaivering and unmovable it sat,

Intending to crush my dreams, so...

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Why do poets ponder

The birds of the air...

For their beauty, their freedom, their song?

Why do they find peace in asking

Questions that begin with why?

Why are they so willing to share

The inner most part of their soul,

Hidden in symbolic mazes

With hedges high?

I guess what I'm really asking

Is why do I?

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My dear homeland, with fields so wide
And rivers that carve through vast, silent tide
On green hills where the calm winds flow
I left my heart in your soil below

Where wheat grows tall, and autumn turns gold
I, far from you, in the cold snow unfold
The distant peaks, where bears are hunted still
Sing in the breeze, a sweet, wistful thrill

Oh, my homeland, why did I leave thee?
With fo...

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I know me much better than you , I know what I have to do .

 

Don't do any interfare , Don't take so much of care.

 

Make me free to fly , Make me not to lie.

 

Take me to the sky , Let me touch so high.

 

 

 

 

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For me, there should be roses raining,
A sky of wonders, never waning.
The world should twist, turn on its head,
And all its worries left unsaid.

 

At sixteen, I dreamt with quiet fire,
To reach the heights, to never tire.
To claim my place, to stand my ground,
With every voice, I’d make a sound.

 

And later, I longed for something grand,
To see the world, to understand.
Not lo...

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I don’t want to mask my poetry

I want you to understand me

Curse your perfect rhythms, rhymes, haikus

Your lyricism, your literary

When I try to adopt it, I turn mute.

Something channels through me

(I’ve never really found the root)

A demanding stream of consciousness

That cannot stop to breathe, let alone

Wait, conceptualise, draft, redraft

I can’t!

...

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The title of my sonnet is inspired by that of the excellent 1995 film, Land and Freedom, directed by eminent film director, Ken Loach, persecuted in the UK and elsewhere for his compassionate socialist views.

With reference to my last six lines: the terrorist murder in 1946 of British soldiers, of Jews and others should not be forgotten in the rush to attempt to justify the seven-decades-long ...

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She sees the world as an ocean 

And she wanna dip her toe in it 

I told her if you go to far 

You gon need a boat witcha 

She grabbed a boat 

She's ready to go 

I told her make sure there’s a 

Life ring and a lifeboat 

Just in case cause you might need those 

She responded “that’s fine” 

Bags packed

Excited to go on this ride 

I untied the rope from the pillar 

...

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This just in
The faulty firing pin — from a fire arm
had become dislodged
effectively,
causing it to misfire

very briefly …
in acceptance of all responsibility
the city-state committee
has sent a representative
that will be answering questions

now… back to you

in other news
we have a sunny forecast

there’s a color shader
right there, on
this heat map
that has an infrared si...

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Sometimes I go to my car

Which isn't very far

But during work time it can seem strange

As if I'm lost and out on the range

 

Sometimes I forget things

Important, useful, essential things

To do my work or I'll be lost

Can't have that now at my own cost

 

So I return to the vehicle

Luckily today I didn't cycle

To retrieve my cherished, beloved and innocent phone

...

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When I met her as a happy wanderer

Navigating from places to places

I did told her I had nothing to offer

But the simple comfort of my chest

 

To this she looked at me smiling

“Hey you adventurer”, she told me

“You’re the one I have been waiting,

Home I don’t need, free I want to be”

 

“The road is a paved way to paradise,

Like the snail my house is this bag,

I ...

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Once I bought a bird in a shop

I opened the cage and let him be

For a flying happiness I’d hope

To let the stars witness it’s free

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Why do we always end up in the place where we began?

Why is it freedom fades away and dies in every land?

 

I think the problem lies within the reason why we fight,

for it is not to win the war then stand guard day and night

 

with vigilance. No sadly this is not the cause at all,

and so the stage is set that every time we rise we fall.

 

Yes, time has shown we do not fi...

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Most people have a lot,

most have a list

of gidgets and gadgets

and trinkets to buy.

 

It’s just human nature

there’s no harm in this,

but lately

I’m wondering why.

 

For as I’ve grown older

I have realized

(I’ve had to,

for it is a matter of fact).

 

While caring for all of

these things that I prize,

everything I own…

owns me right back.

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Let the wolves run

I run faster

Let the wolves run 

I am stronger

Sure of myself 

I flex the muscles of my mind

No need to hide

I expel hexes in one breath,

You may not enter

Nor commit the theft 

Of my soul

You are uninvited 

Release the hatred from your heart

Vengeance is a waste of energy

To be enlightened is to be smart 

And rise above, rise!

I a...

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mutilation,
they call it.

mutilation,
like i’m a butcher
in search of meat to cleave,
and rather than stain my knife
on the skins of bleating livestock
or sweat over a hunt or chase,
i choose the path of least resistance:
myself, my flesh, my matter—
so naïve and unknowing,
defenceless in the face of change.

mutilation,
as if the weight
i mean to carve away
isn’t unwelcome or di...

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Feathers stuck in the cage

Yet melody that soothes

Watching her flying friends

Spreading wings in the sky stage

Giving the luxury life

With food and shelter

No worries of hunt or hunter

Living with the broken wings alive

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To a Fellow Artist

 

It’s often asked: wherein does beauty lie,

In mystery bound, proportions magical,

Deciphered only by the observer’s eye,

Or in some poet’s words deemed lyrical?

I know that beauty’s not in sparkling dross,

Perfection is for fools; an empty frame,

In masterpieces, lines are found and lost,

And here, in life’s chiaroscuro lives a flame,

A caring smi...

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Our brains

Programmed

For better

Or all too often worse

What we listen to

What we watch

On television

Or the internet

With false words

False images

There was a time

Way back when

All our experiences

Conversations

Were real

Actual happenings

In our lives

Not any more

Other people’s words

Other people’s pictures

Fed directly into us

Feed...

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I tried beautiful,

I tried pristine,

I was no good at it

I’m not neat within

I’m not “clean”

Even externally, I cannot master

Clearing every bit of clutter

I’m raw, like an egg

It’s not pretty to have a cracked head

But if I don’t

I’m practically dead

As inanimate and detached as my wooden bed

To be raw is

Painful,

Ugly,

Messy,

But it’s rich with fee...

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Guilt Rebuked!

You liar!

A wretched bully’s sidekick

                    claiming nothing of your own.

You don’t even know when to agree

                                                 – just agree with everything, always.

 

And your answer is always the same.

 

Coward!

Whisper your poison and 

                         look away as if…

But I know it’s you;

I...

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Every day,

Travelling through Life,

We encounter Them,

Some, maybe true,

Yet many,

Disguised.

 

They have,

An ever changing mind,

Facing me,

They call me sweet,

Behind my back?

They say I'm rude,

They call me good,

Then say I'm bad,

They say you're the Best,

And then?

Nevermind.

 

Whatever they want,

Whoever they be,

Let them say,

W...

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There I was,

Standing in the storm,

Walking through the dark world,

Slowly,

All alone. 

Light was dim,

Lamps burnt cold,

Silence all heard,

But my heart's wild roar.

 

Then there You came,

A gust in the storm,

With Your competitive smile,

And encouraging eyes,

"You done, already?", 

You said, with that smile.

"What more can I do?"

"Race till the t...

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If poetry be the food of love, write on!

If it be food for freedom, then kick off!

If you care aught for poetry Write Out Loud!

If you care aught for love then stay not quiet!

If you care aught for freedom, then kick off!

If you will fight with me then you are on!

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I’m sorry to disappoint you

That I can be too sweet and so weak

And yet I can be cold and cruel too

That I can completely snap to my core

And morph into a creature of different sorts

I’m sorry that I’m not white or black

Or immaculate

Or of any matter 

For that fact

I’m not anything 

At all

Not wholly whole

You see,

Incompleteness 

Has been my superpower 

...

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Imagine being totally untethered

After feeling chain linked 

I feel split

That part removed 

That half is trying to renew

But it hurts 

To grow scab over wound 

Missing you is mourning you 

Leaving you is still losing you

And I’m just as lost

As I made you 

If it could be 

I would make it be 

Should I be chain linked again 

I would make it good 

Should ...

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I see the flag
Bright colors
Swaying tall and proud and
Remember that it is smeared
With the blood
Of the hundreds of thousands
Who bought the Freedom
At a heavy cost
Their selfless sacrifice
To make India a sovereign

Is this all what Freedom is about?
Isn't Freedom Subjective
And a lot more than
Stop bowing to a foreign rule?

Freedom to come out
Of the shackles of Bondage
Of P...

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