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 Oct 2015 Terry O'Leary
Melissa S
Use to float through life on a cloud
never worrying about loss
never worrying about anything

Now send poems and pics to a cloud
In hopes that they find you
In hopes that they get through

Trying to unlock some secret door
Here in the cloud that connects
past to present

Climb those stairways to heaven
so very high
but it still would not be enough
to reach that angel in the sky
Poem for my mother
All nations beat their own drum.

The US, China, Britain, Russia, Europe, Israel, India, Turkey, Pakistan, Syria, France, Germany and a whole host of others, have been beating their own drum in deafening cacophony since realisation dawned of their individual sovereign potentiality.

Every nation is manouvering for their own best self interest…and in this volatile environment of the Middle east plus the factor of the complete savagery and unpredictability of the rampaging ISIS Calithate….any outcome, anything is now possible.

Iran is the meat in the sandwich.

She squirms this way and that, buying favour here sacrificing loyalties there, switching, adjusting. Friends become enemies, enemies become friends at the drop of a hat. Writhing within herself attempting to find the path to the future in an incredibly difficult minefield of pressure from the onslaught from the East and the West….A crushing miasma of pressure from friend and foe alike.

Who can say which way she will jump? The only sane predictability is that Iran will leap to her own salvation, her own survival….and to Hell with the rest of the barging, braying self-obsessed world.

Marshalg 23 July 2015
Shadowed in the deepest trench
Four good men stand and stare
At my white face now reflected,
As if I wasn’t there.
Through a barrier of ethnicity,
Down walls of wooden eyes,
To pass through halls of prejudice
That none of us disguise.
They see me through a spectre,
Depicted by a ruse,
Of elemental difference
Which neither party choose.
A product of upbringing
Incumbent in each race,
Between us lies discomfort
When we search each other’s face.

They are black and I am white
Our blood shares crimson red
We all love our wives and family
And we struggle till we’re dead.
Why we amplify this difference
Why we bear this manic cost….
Where a hue of pigmentation
Means all reasoned thought is lost?

There’s a sadness in the offing
There’s an air of quiet remorse,
For mankind to come to terms with this….
The beast must run its’ course.

Marshalg
In the deep northern trench
27 July 2015
Little is known and less is appreciated about the geographic, strategic and political significance of the Spratley and Paracel Islands situated midway across the South China Sea.

Disputed historically for ownership by Malaysia, Vietnam the Phillipines and China, amongst others, the islands are situated strategically across the major commercial sea lanes of the region and atop an ocean of vast, submarine deposits of untapped fossil oil.

China has used her muscle to occupy and claim these islands, together with unspecified, adjacent sea way area. She has claimed them as sovereign territory of the People’s Republic of China. Until this occupation the islands have been largely unpopulated and have had little or no military significance. Recently, however, Chinese constructors have been ruthlessly dredging the surrounding coral reef and building a 3000m long concrete runway for military purposes on the hugely expanded artificial island area created.
Chinese troops, in divisional strength, occupy and defend the new territory.

It is significant that all parties in the region are watching China and gauging her intentions. None less so than the United States Navy who have an aircraft carrier and supporting military vessels, stationed permanently nearby and conduct over flights of the island airspace testing sovereignty and Chinese reaction.
To date reaction has been muted….but this will definitely change.

China is frantically building to be the world’s next superpower, economically, industrially, politically and militarily.
...And, as this development comes to fruition in the very near future, it is inevitable that this distant, remote set of  South China Sea islands shall become the next global hot point of international confrontation.

China and the United States of America will go eyeball to eyeball, bristling with hostility, resolute and immovable, each waiting for the other to blink!

…..and we, the rest of the world, shall, again, tremble in our boots, breathlessly awaiting the outcome.

Marshalg
22 May 2015
AUCKLAND.
Pandering to platitudes am I….
Running riotously adrift
To spice my day with pleasures.
Pleasures caste in portraiture so stark
Of thee my love, of thee.

In curvature of smooth refrain
And delving vortex of unimaginably fine dark fur.
Reclined in attitude of ease…
With mischief dancing about thy porcelain, painted lips.

Oh that I could die with this indelible art?
Slip away to this shrill cacophony of sweet,sensate spree?

M.
Beat the rhythm
empty hand,
Iron cast chains
rattles command.

Ol' Boss Hogg,
baton raised
Self righteous fool
has need of praise.

In order that
he gain acclaim,
thinks with hate,
acts with shame.

Human beings,
commodity,
ships hold stacked
with those once free.

Bodies piled
upon high
you will not see
the strong ones die.

Scars embedded
on their backs
chained and shackled
to the racks.

We deal in branded
breathing stock,
Unload black vassal
from our docks.

Beat the rhythm
empty hands.
Iron cast chains
in far off lands.

We keep our skivvy,
wired hair blacks.
We work them hard,
we score their backs.

They do for us,
they work the field.
Grow the cotton,
pick the yield.

Keep the body,
take the mind.
Labour whatever's
left behind.

And if demeanour
does ever flinch.
We'll introduce you
Willie Lynch.

Beat the rhythm.
Empty hands
Iron cast chains.
Unfair demands.

Beat the rhythm,
shackled feet.
We take their worst
but can't be beat.
Anybody know who Willie Lynch was? Anybody? Raise your hand. No one? He was a vicious slave owner in the West Indies. The slave-masters in the colony of Virginia were having trouble controlling their slaves, so they sent for Mr. Lynch to teach them his methods. The word "lynching" came from his last name. His methods were very simple, but they were diabolical. Keep the slave physically strong but psychologically weak and dependent on the slave master. Keep the body, take the mind.  (Melvin B Tolson)

19th  July 2015
© Copyright Christopher K Bayliss 2014
 Jul 2015 Terry O'Leary
Gerudo
A storm of emotion
Sweeping my hands
Up and down the keys,
Back and forth
On black and white
This passion is my peace,

No other place
No other world
Could make it a greater day,
Than sitting here
Alone with you
And having the chance to play,

I don't care
Nor want to know
What they have to say,
I'd rather just
Be here with you
And play away the day,

All my life
You've been my love
So I play this piece,
Back and forth
My fingers dance
On your ivory and ebony keys.
 Jul 2015 Terry O'Leary
Joe Cole
In this modern world of terrorism
A world where gun law is king
The old adage of love thy neighbour as thyself
Rings true
But only if he's stood in front of you
And you have the biggest
GUN
Do we really know our neighbours any more
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