tom-higgins
I started jotting down a few thoughts about five years ago, and prior to this I never wrote more than a postcard since I left school, apart from essays for professional examinations. I like to record my ideas instead of letting them just evaporate into the ether.
Just been for our daily constitutional
My old mate and me
We walked along the St Bees road to Kell Head, then
We didn't carry on down to the sea
Because we are no longer eight and ten.
Old Father Time has seen to that
Now we're getting on a bit
The hills are no longer flat.
Back then we'd easily walk all the way
To St Bees to play all day by the sea
But we were both young and very fit
My old mate and me.
Then time raced by us so quickly
We never saw it pass,
And now the sands of time are low
In the top of the hour glass.
We walk along the same country lane
The icy North wind stings our cheeks
Not like in the halcyon days
Of the summers and six free weeks
When we walked in warm sunshine
Under the azure blue July skies
With tar bubbles erupting from the road
And the buzz of the bees and flies.
The hedgerows in their summer glory
All green and filled with birdsong
And two la'l lads in their own world
Happily chattering as they went along.
Tom Higgins21/11/2013
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
Oh the joy of a boy
With a much yearned for toy,
Who never saw
The horrors of war.
Oh the sadness of a boy
Born where joy
Is an illusion,
As destruction and confusion,
Are his reality
He has never seen normality,
As never ending war
Rages outside his door,
And the only toys he sees
Are Kalashnikovs and RPG's
Tom Higgins 15/05/2014
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 4:22 PM UTC
The boys and girls ran towards the sound of music
The music played by a proud military band
It was a scene that was oft times repeated
In every town and village in the land.
And when they arrived at their main street
The music was mingled with the sound
Of thousands of hob nailed leather boots
Crunching on the cobbled ground.
The hundreds of green uniformed men
In rows abreast with rifles shouldered
Marched off to their date with destiny
In fields where many dead already mouldered.
And yet they still marched off together
Smiling at the gathered crowds of their towns
Never questioning the reasons for the war
From Scotland’s North, to the South Downs.
They just turned up willing to fight and die
In this “great” war that would end all wars
They all were proud to go and **** the ***
For God’s, King’s and country’s righteous cause.
Across the North Sea it was the same
The willing young men marched off to battle
Great and noble they thought was their cause
And they went to their slaughter like unknowing cattle.
Throughout the continent of Europe, young men,
Joined their disparate armies then became willing
To become part of an industrialised version of war
That mass produced all the means of easy killing.
And each one in every country thought the same,
That they had “God” on their side and were blessed,
So their leaders in politics and in their church
Happily put this belief to its so far greatest test.
Today a hundred years has passed us by
Since the first shots of the war were fired
And we are debating how to commemorate
That sad war and the millions who expired.
Should we treat it as some historical jaunt
Or as a necessary conflict to defeat a tyrant’s threat?
Or should we look on it as an avoidable war
All consequences of which we have not seen yet?
We should remember those who died
We ought to strive never to forget a single one,
But we should do it in a quiet, thoughtful way,
With politics, the military and the church all gone.
Instead why not just buy some red poppy seeds
The reddest red of the reddest blood
And scatter them freely on verges and gardens
In memory of the millions who died in the mud?
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
The politician, his words are hollow,
you get to taste, but never to swallow.
He wants you to believe that he,
will be the one to set you free,
to live the life of which you dream,
and be the cat that got the cream.
But, he will always forget to mention,
that this was never his intention,
it's been the same through history,
no change to the status quo has come to be.
Because those with power take the view,
that the many are here, to serve the few!
Tom Higgins
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 3:55 PM UTC
“Let me lead you in a dance,
Around the fire in a trance,
I'll take you to a wonderland,
Where you will learn, and understand,
What it is we're here for,
And glimpse those who came before,
Your ancestors who roamed this place,
Forefathers of our superhuman race,
Would dance around a fire, just so,
Shadows and substance in the glow,
Generations joining in such a dance
Not all of them were in a trance,
But those who were, said they could see,
The ancestral spirits wandering free,
So come on people move those feet,
Build up the rhythm and the beat,
All together in our rhythmic dance,
As we work ourselves into a trance,
So we all once more can be
The purest folk in history”.
He became a master of the fire dance,
His folk they followed without thinking,
Around the bonfires of wisdom, in a trance
Thousands of torches through the darkness, twinkling.
The ancient symbols on banners unfurled
Chosen as the new racial identity,
A rising crescendo of hatred was then hurled
From the throat of this monstrous entity!
'Now I have you all in a trance
You've joined me in my fire dance.
You made my fire burn even more bright
By burning books to my great delight,
And so the scene is now set,
Most criteria have now been met.
I have already built the stage
From which I can scream out my rage,
And I now see a global panorama
Where I can now act out my drama,
In which millions are about to lose,
especially those sub-human Jews,
And Poles, and Slavs and Gypsies too
They're going to see what we can do.
And as we purify the land
For the greater good of the purest man,
Then the rest of the world will see
You can't afford to mess with me.
And for all of you who accept the yoke
Of total obedience, the chosen folk,
The Master Race above all others,
Born of pure Arian fathers and mothers.
A thousand year ***** we will build
Don't dare ask how many will be killed,
Because I know all, I am as God,
I hold in my hand the lightning rod
To smite our enemies, all to ****
For the Fatherland I will fulfil
My plan for living space for you all,
As the sub-humans beneath us fall
More fuel for our fire we will provide,
In the burning of the millions who have died! '
Tom Higgins 10/06/2012
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
Above the beaches of Normandy
In ordered rows they lie.
They came to fight for freedom,
And for that many had to die.
They also lie in rows in Libya,
In Italy and Greece
The soldiers of democracy
Who died fighting for the release
Of millions locked in a tyranny
Oppressed by an evil mind
They died so that enlightenment
Could guide the future of mankind.
And in the East many more
Monuments stand in memory
Of the many millions of bravehearts
Who died in the fight to be,
Rid of the monstrous evil gang
And their racist and murderous ideaology,
Which planned genocide for these people
In order to steal their whole country.
And here we are almost seventy years
Since the end of that terrible war
Looking at election results which ask
What was all that dying for?
People in free democracies purchased
With those millions of victims blood
Have voted for the same ideaology
That will trample in the mud
All the freedoms for which they fought
And for which they gave their lives
It is as if history has never been taught
And that sheer ignorance above all else,thrives.
Tom Higgins 27/05/2014
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 7:45 AM UTC
If you inflate
The balloon of hate,
And then make it burst.
Don't feign surprise
When your family dies
As hatred does its worst.
Don't dare to say
There was no way
That you never knew,
What their plan
For the "lesser" man
Would end up costing you.
Don't close your eyes,
See through the lies
And open up your mind,
Don't be a pawn
With all dignity shorn,
Understand we are all of a kind.
Tom Higgins 27/05/2014
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 7:44 AM UTC
Like gigantic spiders in their darkness
They constantly weave their webs of lies
They are relentless they are determined
To catch the unwary just like flies.
They are as vultures always seeking
Their next carcass on which to feed,
They never make a contribution
But only ever act to sate their greed.
They busily buy political systems
They already own all of the means
Of communication wherby the people
Could learn what gives behind the scenes.
This culture that they have created
The selfish creed of all for one
The idea that we have society
Now is nearly, but not quite gone.
To succeed they must destroy
Any unity that people feel
And any sense of social awareness
From the national mind they must steal,
And replace it with the mindset
That all that counts is me, me, me,
Because selfish loners won't stick together
So this is how we came to be
In an age where often ill gained profit
Replaces any notion of right or fair,
Living in a world of total exploitation
Where the winners refuse to share
The gains that are out of all proportion
To any effort on their part
And they all compete to be known as
The Gekko with the the hardest heart.
Tom Higgins 25/11/2013
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 5:15 AM UTC
The clever magician will have us believe,
that he keeps nothing up his sleeve,
that none of what he does is tricks,
that all of it is a pure mix,
of miracles that he creates,
and from thin air, substance, emanates.
The clever politician plays a similar game,
like the magician he will claim,
that from thin air he can produce,
the things with which he can ******
whole populations for him to vote,
at your next election, please take note!
Tom 07/06/2012
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 5:13 AM UTC
There is so much information all around,
And pearls of wisdom can be found
Everywhere on this internet,
But with all my seeking I have not yet
Found the source, she is such an elusive girl
That fount of all knowledge the Mother of Pearl !
Tom Higgins
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 5:12 AM UTC