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Scotty Reynolds Jun 2018
Impulse buys and crap meat pies,
crispy snacks and cans
Fast food bags, discarded **** all chucked from sweaty hands

Into bushes, roadside drops or tossed from speeding cars
Consume and lob, “it’s not my prob”
junk stuffed from fist to gob
 
Foods that ****, eat our streets, Mother nature’s ******!
Disrespectful, scant regard, her beauty hid amidst
 
A correlation, may I address... littering to health
Or on a controversial note, worst areas lack in wealth
 
Discarded dreams, stretched at the seams
Life’s stitching’s come undone
 Scratch paper hopers, ciggy smokers
Our streets are overrun
 
Deadly habits, toxic foods, mainly line our streets
Left for volunteers to pick, a never-ending feat
 
Healthy trash? Avocado smash?
Imagine streets adorn
 
Kale and spinach everywhere
We wade through piles of corn
 
“There’s ****** carrots are everywhere, why don’t they use the bin”
“That courgette’s dropped right next to it, why not just put it in?”
 
Coastal towns with plastic seas, wildlife getting sick
All tangled, trapped in Ghost nets like a phantom sailors’ trick
 
Above the ground to the depths below the litter never ends
Poor old Mother Earth, being driven round the bend
 
So how do we control this?  Education is the answer?
Let’s all work to turn it round for Generation Alpha
 
The new emerging vibrant minds, absorbing like a sponge
The lessons passed on down to them, by loving Dads & Mums
 
A shift in thinking is afoot, I feel it in my bones
Let’s join as one community, it starts within our homes.
Ind May 2018
We perpetuate heartbreak culture,
teaching girls the man who holds her loves her despite the bruises,
or it was her fault; she looked older.
We fetishes shoulders,
prize youth from the young in return for pre-chewed gum,
swallowing down the same tired ideals from those who still wield them like flags,
waving their patriotism on poles of bone before a throne of medieval *******.
They chant mantras with beer stained breath about how 'our' country 'bested' the rest,
but what about the brutality?
The blood split on foreign soil in return for prehistoric oil?
Our land is deemed pure so long as the violence on our hands never reaches our shores,
but the ocean is red and staining our sands.

How can you have pride in a country who's sole identity is based off having the worlds largest navy?
Congratulations. You bombed your way through countless continents, collecting cultures to gather dust on pedestals and alters
We sin on Sundays, drink till we're ****** then wave at the seven deadly's (they don't apply to us here).
We teach preschoolers nationalism before they can walk,
indoctrinate our children before they can talk.
George killed the dragon.
Hood gave to the poor.
we all jumped on the bandwagon before we realised the princess had no choice and the rich still ruled.
There was no voice in the tale for those whose wail could be ignored.

What about those without lines in the script?
Those kicked to the curb, then kicked from it?
Our pavements have no room for nonconformists,
they're tailored to for same mind, same mindless wanderer,
squandering on the lasted polyesters even though that mouth on the street hasn't eaten in over a week.
'God save the Queen' from the vermin;
the homeless have been tossed out of the trash.
Why help them when you could save your cash by turning a blind?
After all, out of sight, out of mind.
Welcome to England, we hope you like what you find
Because we’re not changing it.
j May 2018
Cold

Cold is the flesh of one departed
But not forgotten, not alone
Their name is lost but their deed remembered
Cold is the flesh, cold like stone

Hard

Hard was the task of those departed
To give all, and remain unknown
But they did not falter, remained unyielding
Hard are the features on a face of stone

Strong

Strong were the spirits of those departed
Even when lead tore flesh from bone
They marched as ever for king and country
Strong were the beats of their hearts of stone.

Proud

Proud are we to have come to know them
The men and women who call this land home
Ever defiant, ever courageous.
Proud am I of this my land of stone.
"Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once." William Shakespeare.
This is probably the piece im most proud of.
Dakota J Dawson Apr 2018
P.1
The crowd sings a tune
Most dreadful
Malice

It is with steel
Cold retribution
Uneven fire

That he shall die

P.2
Formalities unsecured
Royalty disbanded

Speech said
Hostility silenced
Peace has come

P.3
A hairpiece
Eyes an unnatural shade of blue
Hands reaching for a god

Face unsure
Blade ready
Head severed

P.4
Without God
Tangible mercy
England is set free

Gold to ash
Mind to dirt
Heir to none
nick armbrister Jan 2018
nuclear axe
man with an axe must cut the cable
for the h-bomb will go off
and fry them all if he fails
he must sever the power
and risk being fried like a fish
his island mates'lives are his
tho one is already dead
he was the shark bait
to allow his pal's salvation
which will be short lived
if he fails to chop the wire
a big fat wire carrying the juice
a million ******* volts!
the plane is on the way
to give a signal to the trigger
then the bomb will fire
and a sun is born white light style
and the test will be postponed
till the plane crash survivors
are rescued and their story told
the nuclear arms race received
a slight delay to save lives



before the axe
their seaplane crashed by the island
they thought they were safe
but it was fake salvation
for an event was planned
a massive earth shaking event
britain's bomb program continued
based on an old film
Lucy Sep 2017
Transient summers,
Forbidden Bluebell fields,
Tough times symbolise the pouring of ales.


Manicured lawns,
Cider drinking Saturdays,
Routine discussions about the sun and rain.


Hijinx down the watering hole,
The great unwashed congregating on Market Day,
Smog penetrating the lungs,
Forlorn eyes, social decay.


Leaders of austerity,
Riddled with oppressive policies,
The tedious endurement of the morning commute.


Sirens cut across Westminster,
A quintessential rave anthem,
Boxing Day sales,
Sheer pandemonium.


Revelling in satire,
And curtain twitching,
Reading racists newspapers,
Disenfranchised youth.


Icky dance floors with raging hormones,
Breath heavy with hops and acrid tobacco.


**** drops and winding waists,
Ladies bathroom, evil eyes exchanged.


Sundays spent hanging,
And Mondays depressed,
Holy communions,
Cladded in your best dress.


Suppressed thoughts,
And baited breath
An Albion filled with oppression and dread.
Josh Jul 2017
See them rising now, oh England
Heroes of our causes, past and now
Rising, as one, to defend
This beloved democracy of ours
See Britons of all colour, creed, and race
United under one banner, if not one face
To fight the injustice and tyranny
Both perpetuated by, and visited upon, you, and me
Are we not a nation of all values?
United, as a kingdom, in that we are free
Not all the same, how boring it would be
And where in freedom and democracy, is it stated we accept bigotry?
No racism, or slander, shall we have, not in our fair Britain, are you mad?
We are built of all peoples, from all places
A varied hand, to win the long game, is surely better than all early aces
We claimed we wanted freedom, separation
Proclaimed it "the people's liberation"
Yet how can we be trusted? I ask, when we cannot complete one simple task
To love all others no matter their skin
Nor creed, or where their story did begin
Think sadly of the many who are dead
Because we cannot get it into our head
That people, no matter their race, or religion, are certainly, not, better off dead
Young, impetuous souls, raised, often, with the prejudice of old
Do commit a new atrocity, because they cling to age old tyranny
We cannot accept those, other, than ourselves
We cannot learn, are we stone?
Oh no, but stubborn *****, to the bone
But stubbornness is no excuse for hate, if you cannot go with progress, and tolerance
Simply, move out of the way
For ****'s sake, we can barely cope
When someone wears the wrong style of coat
Without offering jibes or mockery
Oh what pitiful wretches, are we?
We, who disdain our own species and kin
All for what? Their language? Their love? The colour of their skin?
I cannot bear the thought, of such regression
To times of such barbarism and repression
Look now, oh, England, to our ranks of rising warriors, see how they are all different?
They are all, unique, to be sure
Yet are united, in a common cause
To rid the country that we love so dear
Of all the bigotry and tyranny and fear
That makes living, so hard, for so many
I ask, racists, bigots, what's the point?
Is there truly any?
Allow a rational person to answer, on your stead, and likely hit the nail on the head
The answer is no, there is not any
But cruelty and evil, I weep for man
For we are supposed to be enlightened, and so much more
Yet we seem not such, for even the worms, or the birds that prey upon them, do not hate, and **** for their uniqueness
So are we truly worthy to say we are, the greatest race on earth?
When we cannot put decency first
Over hatred of those different
Our own base evilness is an affront
To the DNA that grew to be, or so it thought a more evolved form, Is it truly we?
For it seems to me, that we are only truly advanced, in physiology
Our minds seem too small to comprehend, that in our universe, almost without end, there may be, many, vastly, different from we
Look again, oh England, to our heroes rising up, black, white, Latino, Greek, they are no different to you, or me
All came to seek, or were born, free
Their lives taken by human cruelty
I say, nay, I call, I do implore you to open up your door, see the world around you now, and help, not hinder, do you ask how?
Simply, be decent, lend a hand, accept, not, casual bigotry, take a stand
Be a shield, for those who need you
At the core I'm asking you to be human, give a ****
If you see harassment, don't walk by, help your fellow human, justice outcry
If you think rationally, you will see
I do surely ask no more than can be
Expected of any of humanity, fight so that all others may be free
I ask, specifically, the opponents of such, camaraderie, racists, bigots, whomever you may be, why do you protest equality?
Do you think, the colour of your skin, gives you some pedigree? Or immunity to sin?
Do you feel you are more deserving of the world than those who are different? Do you suppose you are superior? You ****** fools
Can you not use humanity's most basic tools?
Love, compassion, these things are given to share, not hoard, you unkind few, fear, for no good reason, those different than you
So, I suppose I'm asking you to say, why you feel the need to be this way, but don't tell me
Admit it to yourself, in stark daylight
And see if it holds the same weight and conviction as it does in dark midnight
When shadows hide your own deep prejudice, your weakness, tell me, what is this?
But a call to wake up and accept the truth, that you are the playground bully of your youth
You bully and hurt someone for who they are, how can we say, humanity has come so far?
If you are as much a racist as someone from centuries back
You cannot accept that we, are moving on
Sad, little, inconsequential, close minded man
Or woman, sadly racism does span, and spread, even to those who were, and are still themselves oppressed, racism is not born, it is deeply, an
and hatefully, bred
To hate our kin, although we all bleed red
Lo, since our fateful vote, I have seen too many, too many, jump aboard the boat
And lay the blame for all our country's woes, upon our, oft, ill chosen foes
We lay the bitter fruit of our own follies, at the feet of those, we already mistreat
And expect, that they will sup on bitter unjust fruit, and thank us as they choke on the juice
The fruit of our evil labours against, progress, and those people we expect to, now why do I say we when I mean you?
These people that you, expect to, sup, and be thankful for what you give, will not, nor should they, for they desire to not just exist, but live
We'll I've likely earned the hatred of racists, truly, I wish, I could say, this upsets me
But I care not, for I know, when, lo, England's heroes rise up, they shall go, and sweep forth, with such a might, and justice, such as all racists, shall be left down in the dust
I do believe that I am done, I bid farewell to everyone
And I hope you do remember, treat as you would be treated, one another, for at our core,  We are sister and brother.
A poem written because I can't stand racism and prejudice.
RLG Sep 2016
Pollen scented halos
float on tin music
played from under
pop-up gazebos
(providing insurance
against dark clouds
blotting the horizon).
Light dims and glares
as the sun plays peek-a-boo
with infants running
to no end.

Pram junkyards,
picnic islands;
the territories of the
green and daisy-dotted land.
***** thumped with bass notes
in wrong directions;
dads run after toe-poked
spheres into the road.
Trees watch from the edges;
a shallow forest leading
to suburbia, where the *****,
gazebos, children are stored.

Dogs. Oh, the dogs.
This is their land, of course.
They make the rules
and pull their clothed
owners like staggering drunks
into the deep of the park.

A man jogs past.
A bike rings it's bell.
A laugh wins the
battle of decibels.
A plastic bag rustles
in the exhaling wind.
The daisies vibrate
and reach to leave their
grassy bed.
But they are part of the park.
May they never leave.
May England remain this
way in memories forever.
Jamie Adams Aug 2016
There was once a place called the UK
That voted to leave and not stay
The government lied
One great nation died
They'd thrown their whole future away

First we look at the campaign
Terrible both leave and remain
Great lies on both sides
The country divides
My goodness are we going insane?

So let us ask the population
Oh we all hate immigration
The economy's bad
We're feeling quite sad
So we'll rip a great whole in this nation

How can we make a decision
When there's clearly a deep incision
Why change all our ways
When after a couple of days
There's such a great whopping division?

We can all vote, young and old
A value we should all uphold
But it's not democratic
When the campaign's erratic
And lies are all that we're told

One thing that I find quite sinister
This new unelected Prime Minister
Equality's great
And I don't want to hate
But why is she the one to administer?

I must make it clear what I mean
Don't think what I'm saying's obscene
But you cry for democracy
Oh the hypocrisy!
Clearly you're not all that keen

And maybe we'll all be alright
It won't all change overnight
But I'm European
And if you're disagreein'
Then I swear I won't give up the fight
Limericks are almost inherently funny. There's something about the rhythm that makes them feel jolly. With that in mind, I decided to write an extended limerick about a topic which, for me, is not funny.
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