The Farming of Innocense

 

     You know me God,

After all you’ve done,

After all that makes no sense,

      You’re circling right above

Each time I leave the house,

     And,

It’s not much of a house,

Not like the houses that state

Pageantry and jolly hockey sticks at dawn,

Still, what the fuck would you know,

Or perhaps Princess Anne,

The Queen or her devoted –

Stage left wannabes,

     Wannabe’s,

And there, I must admit;

I never wanna be,

A tool for her majesties protection!

 

2.

 

     ‘Arry and William are having it large -

Amongst the very forces you send off

To die,

     And they’re badged now they have the

Killing of folk firmly on their chest,

     Just like,

     Just like,

The grenadier from Wandsworth

Whose education never gave him chance,

(do you think this is just?).

 

     You think I don’t see the Ghetto Birds

Stalking the poorest folk from Heywood,

No mention in despatches despite coming

From the very ghetto that spawned the men

Of Wandsworth?

     You think I know not

Nothing of my power

As the poorest of the poorest;

Salute the convoys that carry -

Beheaded men of Langley

While you scorn

The homecoming of fathers,

    Whom have never seen their babes?

 

     Your majesty,

My humblest offerings of apologies,

I never knew you cared so much,

To give a kinmanship – a boat for his designs,

     While letting

A veteran go without his insulin

While claiming you are blind.

 

The death upon the men

You created as your protectorate,

Will never haunt your sleep,

For you are old skool dear

Where you’ll battle friend

Just for value of a bet,

     And I’m hoping the likes

Of Wills and Harry are listening

To this vet;

     For sponsoring they be

Ambassadors of UNICEF,

A cause that many veterans,

Having witnessed – Murder

And torture;

Will uphold until their death.

 

     But let not the whims

Of boldest your subject

Give you cause to be

Placed under threat,

My wish,

My wish and the many wishes

Of your English Subjects,

Be for you to stand down your majesty,

For while you were

Guardians of a British Isle

Who needed your resilience,

In clinging on to old world

Tapestry’s,

     Your causing an awful deal of rot.

 

William, Harry,

I would challenge each to dual,

     Knowing full well,

They would feign battle,

Knowing full well,

They know of killing

And would rather cease it

As their own,

     

     Scoping,

I see no favours from Gods,

Just an inconsolable anger

For the entity of love,

And while many

Try uphold its destruction,

It is,

     After all your majesty,

Why we are all here,

Why upon the news of Gaza

As other’s lives are claimed,

The reason within our hearts,

We feel nothing but disgust,

 

     For values placed well -

Outside their time,

Move on,

Move on,

Move on,

Let the battle

Of old be lost

To a time

Outside our own,

Then let our lives

Here within this realm,

Be won!

 

Me, as if you don’t know while putting me under surveillance. 2nd August 2014.