Jackboots

Exactly what are jackboots, eh? Tell me.
Well, jackboots were designed by this guy, Jack,
You see, because jacksneakers didn’t work
And jackloafers were out of the question

Jack wanted a boot everyone could hate
Even though they didn’t know what it was
And so anyone you don’t like wears jackboots
You polish them nicely with vitriol

Available at finer shops everywhere
And you’re a Facist…Facsit…Fascist, dude!

He loved her and she loved him
His kisses ****** out her whole past and future or tried to
He had no other appetite
She bit him she gnawed him she ******
She wanted him complete inside her
Safe and Sure forever and ever
Their little cries fluttered  into the curtains

Her eyes wanted nothing to get away
Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows
He gripped her hard so that life
Should not drag her from that moment
He wanted all future to cease
He wanted to topple with his arms round her
Or everlasting or whatever there was
Her embrace was an immense press
To print him into her bones
His smiles were the garrets of a fairy place
Where the real world would never come
Her smiles were spider bites
So he would lie still till she felt hungry
His word were occupying armies
Her laughs were an assasin's attempts
His looks were bullets daggers of revenge
Her glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets
His whispers were whips and jackboots
Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing
His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway
Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks
And their deep cries crawled over the floors
Like an animal dragging a great trap
His promises were the surgeon's gag
Her promises took the top off his skull
She would get a brooch made of it
His vows  pulled out all her sinews
He showed her how to make a love-knot
At the back of her secret drawer
Their screams stuck in the wall
Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves
Of a lopped melon, but love is hard to stop

In their entwined  sleep they exchanged arms and legs
In their dreams their brains took each other hostage

In the morning they wore each other's face

They weren’t all cut from the same cloth
vilified tenders of the iron *****
some were lovers
(or lucid dreamers)
stage romantics
hidden behind jackboots
and skull caps
and switchblade seams

Caste members of a forlorn pack
counting their patchwork and deeds
conjuring up demons
around the console
filling their dreams
with radio reds
and dusted quarries
and faded sepia prints

Brass knuckles
and marches of the few
lightening bolt cracks
from a chilling blood moon
death’s dark specter
cold and ominous looms
the cobalt sea swells
near the nestled, and lost
Clubhouse at Kiusta

The sky is falling
The people are hiding
The jackboots are on their way
A mother is calling
A child is crying
Uncertain they'll live through the day
The tanks, they are treading
Across sovereign borders
Some soldiers are dreading
Their inhumane orders
Though they have an advantage
This war can't be won
And that "collateral damage"
Is somebody's son
The victims of war
Are the poor and the sick
Slaughtered like cattle
For the wealthy and rich

Howls in the night
cross the threshold of savagery
Coordinated hate
of a hundred jackboots
stomping faces in the streets
Storefronts smashed
Crushed glass crunching
under the feet of unbridled violence
Doors bashed in
Swinging sledges smash
Women and children dragged
kicking and screaming from their homes
Beaten unconscious
then beaten while unconscious
Clothes rended
flesh roughly groped
******* mashed
by laughing barbarians
with teeth made of knives
Innocence of a generation *****
in a single evening
Ransacking hands
strangle the wealth of a culture
One thousand synagogues in flames
light cast magnified in the carpet of crystals
sparkle of hellish brilliance
Ninety one lives snuffed
they were the lucky ones
Avoided the camps
where greater horrors were wrought
in the forges of torment
from the pounding of flesh
beneath hatred like hammers

Take me to your *******
@cisgenderwhitemale
in salmon shorts sport polo
boat shoes and expensive cologne—

I, emissary of the InterPlanetary
Order of Eugenically-Minded Denizens (IPOEMD),
have come to rid the world
of this contagion—

who for too long has
beguiled us with their
wicked fashion sense
and appalling profile pictures

appearing on friends’ dad’s yachts
smiling behind a pair of Ray-Bans
with a glass of champagne
drunk underage.

Your valedictorian address
bored me,
your sexist racist homophobic xenophobic (etc. etc.)
inside jokes to your friends
on the lacrosse team
sickened me—

I’ve had to listen to you
brag about your ***** size
since puberty and your discovery
of Spike TV—

I watch you mock Black English
in tweets and hashtags
from locker rooms where
the talk can range from
racial slurs to ****-shaming spurs

(talk never to ****
upon its potential revelation
in a political campaign)—

I film your weddings
where you dance all night
in your Aryan enclave
to top 40 songs
screaming “This is my jam!!!”

I scroll through your #familyvaca2k17 posts,
the immaculate hotels and poolside views
concealing the succeeding flophouses crumbling adobes
and dog-ridden streets of dirt and infinite trash—

I see you engrave in bold
ALL LIVES MATTER
BLUE LIVES MATTER
AMERICAN LIVES MATTER
on every writable surface—

and as a meninist,
lament about the harrowing trials
as a victim of reverse racism.

[The white man’s burden
is to carry the weight
of their inability
to be anything
other than
incorrigible.]

I have come to rid the world of you
once and for all:

Taking the Gideon’s bible
from every hotel
and replacing it with
feminist literature,

burning down every
Banana Republic and
coinciding shopping mall,

cutting the brakes
to every Mercedes, Lexus,
and BMW with a
“Salt Life” sticker
on the back window—

You wear your ethnocentrism
like the sleeves of the cardigan
wrapped around your neck
swaying in the air conditioned wind
like a little cape—

[Behold, Cis-Man!

Whose superpowers include:

Getting away with ****
and perpetuating **** culture,

Minimal jail sentences (if at all),

Guaranteed college entry,

Speeding ticket immunity,

and impeccable draft dodgings.]—

I solemnly swear,
I make a pledge
to never procreate
if it will perpetuate
this vile sect of humankind—

I take a vow of celibacy,
I spill my ***** into the dirt—
not one egg will be fertilized,
not one will be conceived

to the soundtrack of Coldplay,
or Kid Rock, or whatever hair metal ballad
conceived you in the first place—

You are a logical phallicy.

You want to talk about eugenics,
you want to stop
breeding all the “retards
spittin’ on your kids”
at the amusement park—

Pledge chastity with me:
Interbreed,
undilute the strain—

and together,
we can end
the White Man’s True Burden:
Existence.






(p.s.
And it is with great irony
that I write this as one of you—
the Judas to your
Megachurch TV Caucasian Christ—

I write it because
if it were by one of
whom you’ve held
under your [jackboots to boat shoes]
since time immemorial—
they’d never stand
to read it—

for even mutiny
among these ranks
has its own
privileges.)

The sun was up, and daylight blue
Filled all the air, but in the streets
An obsidian dress fast cloaked la rue
As evil crept on stealthy feet
Which seemed at first to be small threat
And undetect; but threat was rife
With subtle moves the spylings breathe
The stench of death, they lower life

In a malicious, abrupt way
Bewildered me, made themselves known
Enemies to Freedom they
Serve only to protect the crown
We tangled, thrashed, my soul abashed
As in obsidian pall it drowned

And so throughout the bleak days, years
They barricade the street and skies
Their poxy prisons bring me years
As they cull freebird as he flies
He nimble tells their secrets for dear
Price, a price upon his years

Whereon the chase upon my back
The devils apace to do their Ill
Behind, beside me hearts pure black
Know only evil Love no thrill
For ****** rank they have the knack
Of making life turn still

The car swerved in with metal groan
I run past them ever fast
They the inquisition to my Joan
Freedoms flag upon my
mast
Such fearfulness I have not known
Than that they inspire, all hope lost

What will become of our good man?
Their petulance stalks him, his friends
If all this time with strength he can
Put doomed world on the mend
He hath outwit them, beat the man
Even if to grave they him send

It is about a year ago
The hunt, chase for me was afoot
As we pacing to and fro
In that town of soot
A town of beauty till I behold
The black coats and jackboots

(part 1)

Have you forgotten us?
We, who, taken from our homes
Our families and friends
Were shunted like cattle
In railway boxes fit for pigs
Yet treated worse than either.

Have you forgotten us?
We, who were stamped and numbered
Stripped and tortured
Bruised and beaten
Used as playthings for perverted men.

Have you forgotten us?
We, who were stripped naked
And bundled into innocent looking rooms
Whose clinical stench
Belayed their hidden purpose.

Have you forgotten us?
We, who screamed with terror
Drowning the laughs
Of those outside
As steel faucets
Belched forth death.

Have you forgotten us?
We, the millions of children
Who like rotting manure
Were bulldozed into
Bottomless pits
Turning them into mountains.

(part 2)

Have you forgotten us?
You, who protest so loudly, so bitterly
Against the use of animals
In scientific experiments.
No one protested
When they used us.

Have you forgotten us
You, who care so much for your old
Your sick and your disabled,
Our old were clubbed to death
Our sick were left to die
Our disabled were used for sport.

Have you forgotten us?
You, who lovingly protect your children.
Ours were wrenched away from us
Ours were used for ****** perversions,
Ours were skinned alive.
No one protected them.

Have you forgotten us?
You, who found the camps
The massive ovens
The mountains of bodies
The hoards of hair and teeth
The human skinned lampshades.

Have you forgotten us?
You, who murdered us.
Are you deaf to our cries?
Were they simply orders?
Were you just soldiers?
Didn’t you really know?

Have you forgotten us?
You the world we left behind.
Can thirty years really dull
Your memory of it all?
Did it really happen?
Wasn’t it all exaggerated?

(part 3)

So now we look down
We thirty million or so
At the indifference
The political cover-ups
The bland excuses
The half-hearted attempts at justice.
The murderers who live
In luxury and power
The monsters of earth
Who created hell
The generation who forgot
The generation who never knew
The generation who will never know
The jackboots
The *******
The Nazis’ salute

(part 4)

Yes you have forgotten us.

Seldom have I seen such strength, such purposefulness shown
And I have witnessed many who have made their message known,
Immovable this woman stands in seas of raging tide
Where friend and foe, as challengers, she’s deftly swept aside.
Resolute she stands atop white cliffs of blazing chalk
To glare across the Channel where her predecessors stalked

In league with Winston Churchill with pugnacious jawline set
When he thrashed the fiend in Jackboots and field grey appuletes.
In league with Margaret Thatcher with that glint of grey in eyes
To the accolades of Gorbachev who recognised the prize.
In league with Boadecia the ghost of power past
Who rallied this great nation to fight on to the last.

Snapping at her ankles the dogs of turmoil writhe
And comrades of another time amass to criticise,
Labourites howl murderously to all who would take heed
While the rabble rousing Europeans joust to intercede.
Swirling round her skirts they mass now screaming their abuse
At her articulated message of a pathway less obtuse.

If Tony Blair had the ***** it’s to her side he’d dance
As would Jeremy Corbett but of that there’s little chance,
Her Majesty stands forthright, as do all her heirs
Including Will and Harry who are cheering from the stairs.
Dianna’s there in spirit plus the Kiwis from the pub
And the rough crowd from the chippie all dolled up with a scrub.
She needs ALL of you behind her in her struggle for the best,
Independence for Great Britain is ascendancy’s great quest.

The very heart of what It means to dwell within these shores
The very heart of what it means to be Brittish to the core.
England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales combining for the task
Of a guarantee of future from the quagmire of the past.
We SHALL stand behind Teresa May and make our voices heard
As we scream aloud the anthem to impart our final word….

RULE BRITANNIA,
BRITTANIA RULE THE WAVES
BRITAIN NEVER, NEVER EVER…
SHALL BE SLAVES!
Boom, boom, boom
RULE BRITANNIA,
BRITANNIA RULE THE WAVES
BRITAIN NEVER, NEVER EVER….
SHALL BE SLAVES!

M.
18 December 2018

The flames of the furnace (well-travelled by wind
slowly glazing the rags of gray women chagrined
at the sight of a hair fleeing tresses now thinned)
sometimes billow like waves flooding naves through the night,
when the lightning peeks in where the tension hangs tight
while the lanterns, alarmed, appear fulgent with fright.

Having lost both his hands, and now dancing for dimes,
Captain Hook haunts the alleyway's rivers of rhymes,
sometimes singing or prancing to mimic the mimes
with white faces contorted to pillars of pain,
as the ringmaster murmurs “we're all the insane”
and the inmates dunk donuts in droplets of rain.

With their hammers in hand, in their plum pinafores,
Satan's soldiers of fortune wield powers of Thor's
leaving blood on bent bodies, the tombstones of wars
lining highways and byways  with manna and gold
for the mastermind movers, survivors consoled
with some pie in Valhalla (or so they've been told).

Above boulevards, battered with batches of bricks,
flys the Duchess of Dawdle on waxed candlesticks;
while she watches, debauches, her ****** tricks
as he talks (on their walks in the summer-day parks
where a parrot kneels praying, a parakeet barks)
’bout the buffed brazen beaks of the latter-day larks.

Hoary goblins glow gruesome, they leap from the loft
to the hard-hearted rues, shedding tears that they've quaffed
through the night of the dead as the clarinets coughed
and the keepers kept watch so that no one escaped
dingy dungeons where priests and their puppets hide caped
behind walls lined with tulips and justice hung draped.

In the Garden of Eaten, where apples once grew,
lie the bones, somewhat blanched, from the last barbecue
and the snakes strut like storks down a lost avenue
along tracks  like the cracks on the mask of the moon
all alight with the shadows that seep down a dune
as the firefly crawls from a crimson cocoon.

Phantom trains travel tunnels (dispatched in all haste),
voiding tickets to nowhere, it seems such a waste
to see roadblocks with red lights at dead ends misplaced
at the base of the bowels of the bottomless pit
where reflections of life seem so ****** counterfeit
from the back of the eyes of the blind hypocrite.

Lady cockroaches, camped in the Countesses' beds,
are commanding crusaders to fit arrowheads
to the ends of burnt bridges suspended by threads
from frayed thongs of diminutive bald balladeers
taunting Cerby, the three-headed dog, serving beers
to the pagan disciples of bold puppeteers.

The oceans lay barren, the garbage dumps filling
with fracking and cracking and lead water spilling,
for milling and drilling are thrilling but killing
the birds and the beasts and the tea leaves, soon falling,
yet gurus roast chestnuts but can't heed their calling
while mauling and crawling on knees while they're brawling.

Unshorn sheep in the meadow are led to the bay
to be brainwashed and fleeced, trusting donkeys that bray
of the virtues of demons that haunt yesterday,
while the vultures deflower the turtle dove lanes
where the blood trickles up and the cruel crimson stains
Easter eggshells and feathers – that’s all that remains.

One eyed bees pilot lines through electrical storms
and blind hornets hum hymns when they're swirling in swarms
while the rest are repressed as the blue marble warms
(regent Queens losing sight that the end has begun)
and for eyes of the ewes, veils of wool have been spun  
and the wasps fly their flags from the **** of a gun.

Seven trumpets (attempting to echo the horns
of the Siamese goats and the three Unicorns
giving birth to the mirth in the temple of thorns)
sound the bugles of sorrow inside of the sea
of crazed lies of the wormwood afloat like a pea
in a pod of dark dolphins that can't disagree.

Often bellowed by barkers, to crowds with no faces,
are words (in their aftermath, leaving no traces)
of picnics and parties in limbo-like places
on paths to perdition where pundits are preaching
and sirens belch bullets while pirates prowl, breaching
the shadow's barbed branches, with whistles blown, screeching.

They're dissecting dissenters that dare to annoy
and then trample with jackboots sent in to destroy,
until taming the toes of the last Gypsy boy
who gets caught in the craw of their cold catacomb
with no rescue by running nor staying at home,
and no freedom to breathe, only rough roads to roam.

Listening to the rain. Safe inside, no fear of the midnight knock on the door. I am at peace free to think my own thoughts. No pyres of burning books, no
sound of jackboots coming over the hill. Only the noise of the comforting rain wild and free.

I see you there in the corner
Your voice trembling with fear
And I see you there on the pedestal
Your fist raised high in your patriotic fervor
I see you there in the church
Your body tense, in frustration, at the failure of your coin operated god
I see you there in the gutters
Clutching your alcoholic life preserver
I see you there on the battlefield
Leading the forces of Armageddon to victory
And I see you there
In a hospital bed
Old, weak, and impotent
Yes, I see you dying
I see you there, having achieved your ultimate goal
Fulfilling your emptiness
And I see you there
Under the brightly painted jackboots
I see you there lighting righteous fires from your state of perdition
And I see you, unconquerable
In exquisite defiance
As a burning testament to the strength of your revolution
I see you at both ends of the gamut
In strength and weakness
Sickness and health
Oppressed, Oppressor, and free man
And I wonder how I
In my alien skin
Could walk among you
Breathe your air, and bleed your blood
But I know that I cannot
So I watch as I have for ages
Your beautiful drama
And dream of the day you will reach out to me

****** castanets -
Floors sprinkled with shrapnel
Under the dancer's skirt -
A broken guitar
Holding a flaccid hand
Midstrum
In it's hollow mouth -
Scattered sheets of unedited poems
Stained with spattered flecks of brain -
Broken bottles
In puddles of Chartreuse and Campari
Congealing onto corpses
Slouching at the bar -
Jackboots kicking the viscera from their path -
Searching for a poet's mortal coil
So it can be shuffled
Into the pyre of ideologues and deviants
Protecting the oppression of this fleeting order.

LOVE GAMES
In your eyes I found love.
Your pupils like that of a love-struck teenager with a crush.
A tantalising sparkle that made my heart rush.
Exciting tachycardia.
Banging heart exploding, near bursting as if a blood filled balloon.
His feet so tired and heavy weren't sporting his black jackboots, imagined they were ballet pumps.
Walking on air.
He realised his teacher cared.
These role playing games entranced them.
Long may they dance.
(c) Livvi

boardroom doors,
circuits open
grey matter hallways
where skeletons
made of lightning
fricassee my synapses

jackboots roundup
****** dahlias deflowered,
their wilted smiles
rainbow
the grass below
with shadows

cowardly dandelions
roar no more,
taken to see the wizard
on yellow brick roads
paved with the
carcasses of braver kin.

Substitutions, approximations & affiliations make my flat **** tired
among the countless ***** bank kiddies my "donations" have sired
with mucked up & mired résumé-writers happily ****** up & fired
who reject the notion that a Dutchman'll never quit a job once hired
We march in jackboots to combat the foot ball neuromas of Morton
that force us on long marches to stop, cut, soak our heels & shorten
the queer couplin' betwixt Gavin Gordon & Edward Everett Horton

And I know, or at least,
As much as I can hope to know,
What you must have thought of me, then,

Wasted on pretense with all your illusions dispelled, you watched from high above the world as a country devoured itself, and it was like all at once,
It all became real for you,

As the skies burned,
the streets grew teeth,
the police bullets fell,
the infernal jackboots of the great fascist Other pressed against your door,
And kicked,
And kicked,

And you thought this would be it,
That hell had finally come to collect on all that which you owed,

And I know, because I was there too,
I, like you, am afraid here,
And I, like you, haven’t known peace since that night,

But you, desperate,
Looking for a martyr,
Found nothing to blame it on but me,
And your eyes,
My own brother’s eyes,
Found nothing in mine but blood,

The deep, irreconcilable blood of a whitewashed history,
Misrepresented context,
The propaganda of hegemony,

And I let you go on,
I let you make me whatever kind of monster you needed me to be,
I knew then, as I do now,
How badly you needed to feel once again like you were in control,
That your enemy was small, and laid exposed in front of you,
Begging to be destroyed,

Brother,
I know now that you are gone,
But even through this,
This impossible distance,
I cannot apologize to you,

Brother,
Mine was never the path of reconciliation,
I chose the path of strife I knew you could never follow,

I don’t believe we’re going to talk our way
Out of this,
Or anything else,

I don’t have faith in the system which gave birth to this,
This endless parade of monsters,
To save us from them,

Brother,
If you need me,
I will be in the darkness with you,
Not clinging to it’s walls,
But trying, with every beat of my still living heart,
To tear them down,
So that the light may come in,

Brother,
Until that day comes,
I will keep a candle lit for you,

And when it doesn’t,
You can tell me I was wrong,
And I’ll reply,
At least I died trying

It's true
my country has turned
from a place I loved
into a nation of fascists
one big salute... HEIL
to my fascist nation

I need to get the **** out of here
for everything here now makes me sick
I am waiting for the day
when stormtroopers break down my door
I need my guards close
I need to stay secure

No one can speak out
no one can say no
and they watch you
and they monitor you
where ever you go
in this fascist nation

It's not Great Britain
it's ****** Britain
and those in power
are trying to take us down
we are the enemy
they have the jackboots to crush us into the ground


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

Is that a small moustache appearing
jackboots doing a goose step?
come now Mr Trump lets reconsider
You know how to make a personal un-spendable fortune
and keep it
but what pray tell do you know about love?

Persephone wears flowers
and tough jackboots like a soldier
with muscles, or an open waistcoat
with a mini skirt like a ******, always
conquering the instincts around her

In Coco's dress, she parades on Jersey
the transparent plastic rustles
every time I kiss it
passers-by take photos
she is in the newspapers

Spring has begun
old desires wake up
people get aroused
and inspired to let themselves go
she is an example

everyone sees her, but doesn't know who she is
flowers cover her bare body
she charms soldiers and virgins
with instincts, singing her praises
and creating life

Rising.... networking, recruiting. Intolerance and bigotry given life in a fractured society

Far right thugs airbrush Belsen, Auschwitz and Treblinka dismiss and deny their stock reply. Sleepwalking in a trance as jackboots march on the street.

Beware their poison and lies sincerely sold within smiling eyes. Boot boys controlled by faceless insidious masters, puppets of the Rights agenda. Glory and genocide merge in a nightmare vision, wrapped in a Swastikas flag.

Hardline view becomes mainstream media. One nation spouting division, deportation verbal *******.

Global awareness coming, is it too late? The unthinkable brought to be. History repeating ,lessons unheeded. Innocent maliable brains with falsehood and hate are seeded.

A final solution? Not in my name . Fight for what is beautiful and right. Fight for OUR race.... The Human Race.

I prefer my head
spinning with confusion
to the lust for certainty
that inspires your gatherings.

A crowd of ideological clones
all in agreement
smiling and nodding
patting one another on the back
laughing at the ignorance
of the masses of straw men
outside your gates.

With enough eyes, ears,
mouths, lips and *******
“It could be” becomes “It is”
and “Maybe” becomes “Yes”
doubts are squashed
like Halloween pumpkins
with hammer blow shouts.

When I hear your footsteps
heavy like jackboots
I slip quietly out the back door
and down the shadowed alley
wanting no part of your circle ****
of self validation.

Just be sure to mop up
when you're finished.

Pointing and Tweeting 
and Lying out loud 
Misinforming, Misdirecting 
and Masquerading as proud
A Fool’s Grand Folly 
proves to allow
Our once Great Nation sanctions
The Shame of Now

No longer the beaming beacon 
of Freedom and Light
Lost drowning under agendas 
of a fascist Right
Our promise of Equality,Opportunity, and Justice for ALL
Has dimmed deep dark
Led by dishonorable leaders 
with minds too small

Lie upon lie 
to seize and deny
Each worthy Virtue
As lethargy stands by
To ignore is to condone 
this integral deceit
Lighting matches in the wind
at a scheming Witch’s feet

Political shame 
is nothing new
Its open promotion 
defines Red versus Blue
But our current taste 
for Snake Oil Greed
Summoned upon us 
with foul racist creed
This Demon’s charm
Hastens reckless danger 
Has brought us harm
Unstable chaotic anger

Voter apathy 
has thus condemned
Heads and feet 
buried too deep in sand
Qualifying lies
EACH AND EVERY DAY
This cancer has spread
“But the economy…” they say!

At what cost 
is you dignity lost?
When the lines of life and decency are crossed...

Bragging and gagging
The few who spew through
False rallies and chants
Show us how 
the ignorant rants
Further convey
The Shame of Now

Manipulation of masses 
televised showing their *****
Compassion gone, 
Our Character drawn
Hate and Greed 
Their ugly seed
Dividing is no great mystery
Exacting this moment in history

Love and Compassion 
No longer in fashion,
Diplomacy and Compromise
Cuffed behind 
self-righteous disguise
Gilded ideology 
and forgotten vow
Convey the disgraceful 
Shame of Now

Gone now too,
Our Golden Rule
The Bully stalks on
A sullied Fool
Human rights aside
Jackboots must abide
We've lost our soul
To the latest poll

Non apologetic rhetoric 
Inviting a World thickly sick
Embattled, embittered,
Disastrously entwittered
But crisis mode 
Has always shown
To tow the load
We MUST always reap
What we have sown 

Soon critical mass
Will expose this ***
For all he's said and done
His base too
Shall also rue 
Days of ugliness won
A National Reckoning 
Is overdue
The Conscientious beckoning
For all things true

Until this time
Heed my rhyme!
Of Machiavellian theft
Cunning deceit and lying
With Hope for a future bereft
Of stolen children forever crying
Until Election Night
We FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT

Yet We remain bewildered how
We must face 
The Shame of Now

First they took someone faraway and nobody cared
No-one had a single thing to say cuz nobody cared
Then they took someone a city away and nobody cared
The news lost behind twenty tragedy's cuz nobody cared
Then they took a local vagrant and nobody cared
Water cooler rumors and talk of sunny days, nobody cared
Then they took your neighbor and nobody cared
You sat scared and prayed while nobody cared
Then they took you and nobody cared
I asked myself should I have cared

Should I have seen the signs of the times
Jackboots replace police shoes
Gunshots at protest crowds
Bricks on top of pallets in city centers
Alt right killers and school shooters
Leaders taking shots posing with glocks
Twitter over judges and lawyers
So many criminals who think they're warriors
So many family's in houses and they aren't owners
Money on islands with child *******

But what could I do as far as I knew it was business as usual
How could I know how to end the sins of business casual
When I'm told this practice makes money and the business is masterful
Brainwash the masses and **** their kids then call business tasteful
Even the end of the world makes money, never is business wasteful
It has just been business as usual, every ******* day is business as usual
Business as usual, just keep going like its a business as usual
Wake up, get ready, and go to work its business as usual
I clock in, I clock out, I go to lose myself its just business as usual
lose my heart, lose my soul , lose my ******* mind and its business as usual

He loved her and she loved him.
His kisses ****** out her whole past and future or tried to
He had no other appetite
She bit him she gnawed him she ******
She wanted him complete inside her
Safe and sure forever and ever
Their little cries fluttered into the curtains

Her eyes wanted nothing to get away
Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows
He gripped her hard so that life
Should not drag her from that moment
He wanted all future to cease
He wanted to topple with his arms round her
Off that moment's brink and into nothing
Or everlasting or whatever there was

Her embrace was an immense press
To print him into her bones
His smiles were the garrets of a fairy palace
Where the real world would never come
Her smiles were spider bites
So he would lie still till she felt hungry
His words were occupying armies
Her laughs were an assassin's attempts
His looks were bullets daggers of revenge
His glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets
His whispers were whips and jackboots
Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing
His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway
Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks
And their deep cries crawled over the floors
Like an animal dragging a great trap
His promises were the surgeon's gag
Her promises took the top off his skull
She would get a brooch made of it
His vows pulled out all her sinews
He showed her how to make a love-knot
Her vows put his eyes in formalin
At the back of her secret drawer
Their screams stuck in the wall

Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves
Of a lopped melon, but love is hard to stop

In their entwined sleep they exchanged arms and legs
In their dreams their brains took each other hostage

In the morning they wore each other's face

by Ted Hughes

They greeted the millennium with renewed hope,
Welcomed the new era with more expectation,
Military jackboots had been put to the rope,
Civilian turncoats can now tend the plantation ;

So every four years they mount the soapbox,
Preaching prosperity in the clouds,
Telling the People to give away their sovereignty,
Over cheap promises of beds of roses.