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5.5k · Jul 2015
Ghetto home
Evie Hammond Jul 2015
I love our multi coloured rainbow street
Where many tongues and hues and flavours co-exist
Where those that could not marry once before now can, and thrive
I find solace here amongst these dispossessed
Belonging and acceptance
Some would say ghetto
I say home
A tribute to the place I live - a wonderful loving muti cultural street within a very traditional old fashioned rural community.
3.2k · Jul 2015
The Vilest Troll
Evie Hammond Jul 2015
Hunched, gorging on the pain of others
Innocents, betrayed by acts so like your own
For what? Some twisted pleasure?
Denial? Or simply masquerade?
Foul incubus, disguised by pilfered light
An electronic reinvention of your tale
Wallowing, greedily perusing torment caused by proxies
Judas! Betrayer of the Light!
You'll be unmasked
And truth laid bare for all to see
Trolls. Many kinds. Why do they do it? An age old problem. Nothing new. This focuses  on a certain kind of troll. The fake friend. The abuser who pretends to counsel the abused, the thief who pretends to be a benefactor. You know the sort.
2.0k · Jul 2015
Stolen valour
Evie Hammond Jul 2015
A real man doesn't beat his wife and son
I wouldn't share a trench with you, you'd run
You call yourself a soldier but, pal, that isn't so
You're nothing but a coward, through and through
A short piece about an archetypal abuser - who pretends to be noble
1.7k · Jul 2015
Tinker, Tailor
Evie Hammond Jul 2015
Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy
But never a tinker nor tailor was I
The truth will out, just a matter of time
Karma is coming to review your crime
Public face so squeaky and clean
Pretending it's pain from all that you've seen
But we know the truth, both you and I
Why did the wives and children cry?
1.7k · Jul 2015
No Excuse
Evie Hammond Jul 2015
Are you sorry for things you've done?
For the violent attacks on your little son?
"It'll make you a man" that's what you said
As you kicked him and beat him around the head?
Or do you still think that it's ok
To treat your family that way?
More secrets hidden over years gone by?
Will you truly repent before you die?
Well, forgiveness to you isn't mine to give
After all your crimes do you really want to live
With the consequences of what you've done?
You blame it on trauma from carrying a gun?
But you beat your wife and you beat your kid
There's just no excuse for what you did
You hide behind your public face
Little man, you're a disgrace
You thought that this was buried in the past
But karma's a ***** and she's catching you fast
For the people you pretend to have been your brothers
Here's the kicker pal, some of us are mothers
Here comes the reckoning for what you've done
For the torture you visited upon your son
So don't blame the job for what you did
Newsflash - a warrior doesn't hit kids!
Abusers hide behind all kinds of excuses for their violence but there's really no excuse. Applies equally to men and women. Apologies to anyone this may resonate with a little too much
1.5k · Jul 2015
Evie Hammond Jul 2015
The Israelis taught me and they taught me well
How to **** you and I to hell
Endless days spent waiting in fear
Until I felt no more
First defence, well that was me
Waiting for the bomber
"STOP or I'll say stop again"
To die would be my "honour"
I couldn't let them take the Jews
It happened once before
So I hunted and I waited
To settle that old score
And still I hunt and still I wait
For those condemned to hell
Defending not just Israel
All innocents as well
So if you've hurt the meek and mild
Or raised your hand to a tiny child
Your time is up, the sand's all run
Finish yourself or face the gun
996 · Jul 2015
Labradors eat everything
Evie Hammond Jul 2015
Lasers on my lunch
Greedy golden dog covets
Even satsumas
Lunchtime with my labrador staring intently until I handed over my citrus fruit.
991 · Aug 2015
My Shotokan Tiger
Evie Hammond Aug 2015
When we met you said life had broken you
It started in childhood, what he put you through
And now you felt shamed because you were homeless
Abandoned by society, drifting and rudderless

You told me as though it was a ***** secret
And thought I'd walk away

You told me how you washed in the railway station
Fighting for work to improve your situation
Never giving up and never giving in
The very epitome of "Who Dares Wins"

And you thought I'd walk away?

You looked in the mirror and saw a loser
I cried and wished that I'd met you sooner
But you just said you'd learnt a lot
Sleeping rough on Christmas Day

You looked in the mirror, hated what you saw
But I looked at you, seeing so much more
Where you saw a loser I saw a hero
A samurai stood where you saw a zero

Knocked down 9 times you got up 10
If it wasn't enough you just did it again
Shotokan Tiger, in potentia
Noble, brave, strong.

Living proof that birth can't dictate you
That a ruined childhood needn't  break you
You overcame all, yet I never pitied you
Forged in flames and born anew

Vicious abuse from a cowardly father
A little half man who claimed to be a soldier
So "brave" he beat you black and blue
But he could learn to be a man from you

In you I see a Pilgrim, bold and free
Longing for mountains and glittering seas
Always going farther, one peak more
You'll  find your Mecca at the Dojo door

So walk beside me on the Golden Road
Let me share your honour code
Be my Sensei and guide my hand
While you light our way to Samarkand
For my husband, a truly inspirational man. References to the "Golden Journey to Samarkand" by James Elroy Flecker 1884 - 1915, a piece of writing that means a great deal to us.
961 · Aug 2015
On Fundamentalists
Evie Hammond Aug 2015
I fear them....and so
They anger me...and so
I hate them
I hate it that I need to hate them
I hate them for making hate necessary
Fear leads to anger and hatred. Fundamentalism, in all it's guises engenders fear. Fundamentalist individuals, groups or governments. All equally evil and dangerous.
804 · Jan 2016
Diagnosis Day
Evie Hammond Jan 2016
Despair, mother, father of emotion
A raw intensity, a singularity
Exploding outwards, expanding into
Every pastel sentiment
Love's antimatter
Evil twin, yin yang
Just as love lace edged with despair
Despair runs threaded through with love
Like seaside rock once the season's dead and gone
Whispered ghosts of dreams
Of sunny days and might have beens
Gone all too soon
Of childhood summer memories
Simple pleasures at the time
Refocused under a lens of grief
Once bringing joy
Now heralds pain so exquisite
All other feelings rendered pale
Translucent echoes when compared
And with such brilliant intensity
Informs that you are still alive
At least for now
My dad called me. His doctor told him he has a cancer in his lung. This is our poem
778 · Jul 2015
Evie Hammond Jul 2015
Imagine if I was given one moment,
just a single slice of my past.
I could hold it close forever,
and that moment would always last.

I'd put the moment in a safe,
within my hearts abode.
I could open it when I wanted,
and only I would know the code.

I could choose a time of laughing,
a time of happiness and fun.
I could choose a time that tried me,
through everything I've done.

I sat and thought about what moment,
would always make me smile.
One that would always push me,
to walk that extra mile.

If I'm feeling sad and low,
if I'm struggling with what to do.
I can go and open my little safe,
and watch my moment through.

There are moments I can think of,
that would lift my spirits everytime.
The moments when you picked me up,
when the road was hard to climb.

For me to only pick one moment,
to cherish, save and keep,
Is proving really difficult,
as I've gathered up a heap!

I've dug deep inside my heart,
found the safe and looked inside,
there was room for lots of moments,
in fact hundreds if I tried.

I'm building my own little library,
embedded in my heart,
for all the moments spent with you,
before you had to part.

I can open it up whenever I like,
pick a moment and watch it through,
My little library acts as a promise,
I'll never ever forget you
Written by my dear friend today on the 13th anniversary of the death of her baby, who passed away at 2 days old. In remembrance of Maddie. Posted in loving support for her mum Shelli.
762 · Oct 2015
Poppy Day
Evie Hammond Oct 2015
Body broken from military service
Comrades gone or dead
Cast adrift in civvy street
I believed their lies. They said
They would take care of me
If service took its toll
They said there would be help for me
If nightmares sacked my soul
Instead I'm turned from door to door
My country has betrayed me
Now I'm used up, no longer fit
Youth gone to keep you free
You treat me like a burden
An encumbrance you don't need
Helpless anger bubbles
As I cut until I bleed
Anger turning inwards
As there's nothing I can do
Dulce et Decorum Est?
Is that really true?
Or is it simply if you live
A veteran you'll be
Outlived your use
A shattered wreck
Is all that they will see
The great and good
Who never served
Not even for one day
Huge great poppies they will wear
And stand and seem to pray
Yet turn their face away from you
A figure of disdain
Would be much more convenient
If you had been slain
Your country doesn't want you
Now you've served your use
They told such lies and you bought in
And now they cut you lose
So don't expect their help
And don't believe the lie
Your country only wanted you to
Do and then to die
It's how I feel. Accessing medical help is a nightmare as a veteran in the UK. This time of year there's Bonfire night with all its fireworks and then Remembrance Parades. All the local dignitaries remember once a year. For many of us every day is Remembrance Day.
Evie Hammond Aug 2015
Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power.

Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth.

And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression.

And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission.

How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror.

I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense.

Alan Moore, V for Vendetta
From V for Vendetta. A remarkable tale filled with beautiful words.
684 · Jul 2015
You can't beat the clock
Evie Hammond Jul 2015
In Iserlohn so far away
But not so long ago
Not long enough to be forgot
By those of us who know
Now time has passed
And things have changed
The playing field's all level
The beaten child is all grown up
It's time to face the devil
For Abbadon is on the way
To give a Revelation
****** was a corporal too
Prepare for your damnation
Written for a friend, well client actually, with a troublesome past.
570 · Jul 2015
Poor Jim
Evie Hammond Jul 2015
Poor Sonny Jim, lying on the floor
He was scared and cold and only 4
Daddy is a monster, yes it's true
But look out Daddy now I've found you
For the scared children. May they never need to be scared again
536 · Jul 2015
The Soldier
Evie Hammond Jul 2015
Mother my mouth is full of stars
My eyes are growing dim
My time is short
Grieve not my passing pain
Remember just the happy times
When as I child I stood
Beside you as you sang to me
Or spoke or taught or soothed
Though truly I'd give anything
To hear your voice once more
This vicious war tore me away
To die far from home shores
Remember me in little things
Still talk to me each day
How truly do I really wish
I'd never gone away
But go I did. I had no choice
Just like so many others
And just like me their dying wish
To be back with their mothers
For my friends.  Too many. And for their mothers
535 · Aug 2015
Breaking the cycle
Evie Hammond Aug 2015
I would love to say we should love others
Just as truly and deeply as we love our children

But given the childhood of many
That would be condemning us all to hell

Better to say we should love others
As we would have chosen to be loved as children

When JC said "Suffer the little children" he did not mean literally
Of that much I am sure
For those whose experience of childhood was less than idyllic. Often marginalised by sentiment that assumes everyone's experience was perfect.

— The End —