Merry May

Merry May
the rays ignite
a higher, wiser, inner sight
and fire in the belly
quicken, now, our power
raise the Just in common might

Christmas is coming

Christmas is coming, the golden geese are splat
Please to spare a thought for the last fat cats;
If you haven’t got the message, the medium is you,
If you haven’t got the medium then God bless you!

Christmas is coming, the golden geese are tat
Another year the government took care of that;
If you haven’t got a nest egg, your servitude will do,
If you haven’t got a pot to piss in, God help you!

Christmas is coming, the golden geese are crap
Please to spend a penny in The Man’s old hat;
If you haven’t got a sprinkling, a tinkle in will do,
If you haven’t got an inkling, well: then God bless poo!

Hubris heaving

While complacency
And acquiescence
Grew and came to rest
For an age
Did people drift,
Unwitting;
Trade their lives
That Golem blessed the Carrion
With precious jewels
To fill their vaulted, gifted nest.

Filled to overbrimming

Stirred emotion,
Swimming,
Swirling
Mind to motion,
Makes beginning;
Wakes to shade
And, quickening, now,
Quickens, quickens
Weight from wait –
The Golden Bough
Of Hubris, heaving, breaks.

‘Britain-hating ideology’

“We cannot let that man inflict his security-threatening, terrorist-sympathising, Britain-hating ideology on the country we love,” the PM said.

Spite
And puffed-up might
This ‘Greater Britain’
Of the Right
Effusing hubris
And insufferable delight

What kind of man is this
Whose leadership
Insists;
Persists in slanderous cries
That Corbyn is some
‘Terrorist-sympathising’
‘Security-threatening’
Traitor?

Please, later,
It shall come to pass
That the real culprit of
‘Britain-hating ideology’
Be kicked out on its own
Unpatriotic, pampered arse.

For the Love of It

God is pressure;
Life is movement;
Will, attunement,
Conscience measured.

Light, its friction,
Shadow sifting,
Soul uplifting,
Love, its treasure.

Bring it.

Right wing clinging
But the Left wing is singing,
Rising up from the edges,
Marching in on the terraces;
A coiled spring’s innings
Twinning up on the bluff:
Oh, come and have a go
if you think you’re hard enough!

We, the People

Dear readers,

I first posted ‘We, the People‘ in March, 2013. In light of the approaching United Kingdom General Election and because this weekend is May Day Bank Holiday, traditionally synonymous with International Labour Day, it felt appropriate to mark Beltane by reposting this chant. I hope it resonates, wither you dwell.

Yours, in Light, in Hope, in Humanity, in Solidarity,

J  xXx

*~*
We, the People, we are the Nation,
The Soul of the Land in manifestation.
We are the stewards of all she bestows,
We are the yesterday, glued to tomorrow.

We are the Temple, the priests and the flock.
We are the method; the vehicles; the stock.
We are the warriors, artists and scribes,
The teachers, the healers, protectors and guides.

We are the source of the outcome we seek:
The Light and the Strength and the Hope that we need.
We are the draughtsmen and builders of Will.
We are the answer; the cure for our ills.

For we are the Soul and the hand of our fate
And we are the banners and trumpets of State.
Albion’s creatures in Sovereignty’s land:
We are the People – we are the Command.

[See also ‘Beltane‘ for last year’s offering]

pounds with Hope

Ivory Tower cowers
under roar resounding
round the wild and fertile lands
as fanfare of the Commons,
bold as banners, pounds
with hope as old as every soul
did stand upon re-hallowed ground.

self-preservation

The Powers That Be
say…
oh, something
or other
obtuse,
clueless
and loose
about
something
utterly vital
and, just as often,
absolutely nothing
– zip –
of any goodly use
or even of particular meaning
at all,
in order to make
something
or other
seem far more
important
than it actually is
or to shrink what really matters
into insignificance
with yet another
desperate bucket of blah, blah, blah
inconsistencies
to smother
veritable gaps
and confuse
in pursuit of
a wealth of false economies
and self-preservation –
but, collectively,
instinctively,
experientially,
we know this,
so, to bear it any longer
would be ridiculous.