we look in wonder at the night sky
but the night sky is struck silent
looking back at the Earth.

All of the shining mad ones
With their heresies of reality
And other visions and other voices
Are not diminished
By the multitude of choices
That is their truth
Upon each waking day

They are woken by the howl
From beyond the first ear
And into the deeper mind
Where there is other language
And blinding colours of emotion
For madness has the purity of pain
That martyrs can only long for

                                           By Phil Roberts

Tell me now then Mr minister
why is politics all so sinister
In past controlled us all with fear
now they fear the truth is near

Divide and conquer is the goal
hate what they cannot control
Internet means communication
no longer divided globalisation

We are numbers this they know
struggling to keep us all below
on our shoulders they've stood
not helping others as they could

We all know about their crime
and now I think that it is time
for a simple an affective solution
has anyone heard of revolution?

© One man

It is a curse of negative spaces.
Strange featureless faces
speak in discordant tones
repeating bland talking points.

So, I escape into the worlds I make,
sing in swift but slurred words
making my own rhythms and lyrics
as I stumble in a manic state,
pulled down by the heaviness
of my creative plates,
those several pieces of porcelain
spinning on thinning sticks.
Till, I fall, crack, and break.
Then in my broken state
cut all those around me.

Ignorance and apathy are plagues that promote human suffering.