poem 256

 

He never counts this year’s

seventeen-thousand dead

For tonight he rests his head. 

Praying silent through the dark, 

The scripture of a sick man’s greed.

For he believes in the profit 

Off the great class war,  

For here Today’s front line

Is. a. NHS  corridor, 

Made. Just. For. The. Poor.

He hums the tune 

that "Private is Best," 

While the broken are put out to death, 

With a silent, "Fuck You," 

He pays the bill 

jumps the NHS queue…….over you 

Inopimortality means death by poverty. 

Inopimortality means death by poverty. 

Inopimortality yes it means, your death by poverty.

And tonight a nurse weeps 

For tomorrow she walks corridors 

That just torture the poor 

Ohhhhh Just like before 

Oh yess she walks corridors 

And beholds Inopimortality

That just torture the poor 

Just like before 

Just like before 

Just like before 

She will walk NHS corridors

That. Torture. The poor.

https://www.theguardian.com/society/2026/jan/15/nhs-corridor-care-torture-patient-deaths-staff-nightmares 

NHS corridor care is ‘torture’ leading to patient deaths and staff nightmares

poem 250

 

                        Inopimortality means death by poverty

poems 249

You can’t sell weapons to love

You can’t sell weapons to love 

You can’t sell weapons to love

Man woman and child 

Your only crime is to smile

As the bombs 

Fall from the sky 

And those that survive 

You got blood in your eye

You got blood in your eye

Yesss you got blood in your eye

And all you see is red

Yes it is

All you see is red 

All you see is red 

All you see is red 

But You can’t sell weapons to love 

But You can’t sell weapons to love 

No you can’t 

Ohh no you can’t 

But you can sing  with us 

You can’t sell weapons to love

You can’t sell weapons to love

You can’t sell weapons to love

You can’t sell weapons to love

248 poem

 

Poverty creates 

War

Creates poverty 

poem 247

 

Your past has the last laugh 

Here your alone on a familiar raft

All around faces 

Blast blast blast

As birds falls from trees 

While bee's silent scream 

bleed for the war machine 

Addicted to your screen

Addicted to your scream

Addicted to your scene

I dream electric and glow

I dream electric and go

Before the last laugh eats 

poem 246

 

Thoughts as thunder, hold each word up to a naked flame

True, a moment dances brightest before life eternal game

Still, to hold a tear, a laugh, a lovers secret, crystal in might

Unmasks nature’s cords, here we all become stars-lit nights

And tonight, in Soho’s hallow, electric glow, I watched her go 

In visions of her magnetic smile, I held this brighter than all 

poem 245

 

Cast iron ribs

sheet blue crystal skin

Hear the beat echo

from each void again

Oh i place finger tips 

upon strings 

Hear the death played

from each tv again 

Once again 

Once again 

Once again 

poem 244

 

I know a hole, 

It dreams of all your hate so perfect 

and in each blade, he needs to reflect 

As another life drains into the dirt

he just cries, your my latest convert

I know a hole, 

Feed it day and day, its all the same 

easy exclaims a lord land given claim 

And wine freely flows to grapes of wrath

while talks, of poverty all ends with a laugh

I know a hole, 

It proclaims upon you all, just grow and grow

But forget chains of sorrows you all know 

For we will breed, to give no quarter

in this garden horror, we’ll give you order

I know a hole, 

Each day, he try’s to sell you a soul 

while his winning smile takes control 

He just twists your love, your tender love 

into an ever-lasting, rabid dove, rabid love

poem 243

 

Outside so proud 

we sing for all 

Above the clouds 

crown are deeds 

And seeds the love 

that we all need  

So as we grow 

we grow collective 

For the sun above 

shines from everyone 

As a human ring 

forever in sing

The truth is, love 

The truth is, love 

The truth is, love

poem 242

 

Capitalist made 

AI in his own image,

then in every way 

makes your day 

perpetual shame

and all for there 

eternal gain,

no matter the pain

poem 241

In the deep 

ink flows cold 

Vivid pain claws

at each breath 

Weep but dust

has nothing to give

Creeping tiger 

across a child

Dig deeper

still it eats

A scream seeps 

into the void 

and again 

and again 

and again 

Religion feasts