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CHANDRASHEKAR May 2015
I........I.............
What is this?
I have, always, been
Thinking about
This 'I'

I am not ' me' only
Not alone in this World
Counting the stars at night,
As if a  fool
Accomplished a great thing,
Lives are suffering, sufferings
are living like demons
amidst us
But,
I'am not bothered.


Blaming the scorching sunlight
Scratching the head
for silly matters
Like a worm
Trapped among the numerous red ants

When I see around
Under a huge sky,
Under a beautiful Green tree,
Beside a gorgeous flower,
I am nothing,
nothing  
more than a
tiny tosspot
addicted with 'I'
I am addicted with myself and my life.  I am lost in my own daily life like a vasp running around vacuum gaining nothing.
Chris Slade Sep 2020
It’s bad enough being governed by tossers
but those who might lie about what they’ve
done to prove they deserve their title;
changing diaries, blogs and saying, well
we didn’t get the e-mail…No, honestly - no note!
Well listen to me you tosspot - you ain’t got my vote!

Politicians who don’t take steps to deal
with crises on a Friday - but put it off till Monday
‘cos, well, it’s the weekend - and we don’t do weekends…
Well, I know I’m not even a cog in the wheel…
but I AM a voter… and, you posh-boy procrastinators
whilst your **** points downwards - No sir!
I ain’t your voter!

If everything’s unprecedented, exponential - non essential
that just means you failed… your eye wasn’t on the ball - you bailed!
Countries that tumbled first surely that put the writing on the wall.
That should have given you a clue - but no - not with you.
Cobra? Err, sorry couldn’t do the first five…
Shame mate - ‘cos half of those that died might still have been alive.
You ain’t got my vote!

So how can you do it? What? Well, make amends!
I’ve got a good idea -  why not work weekends!
And, while you’re at it why not just own up
to not coping very well. The Game’s up!
And, after you’re voted out next time
just go to hell! You ain’t got my vote!
Is that the door?… I’ll get my coat!
I've tried hearts and flowers and wandering lonely as a cloud and other ethereal stuff... None of that works for me. Maybe it's because I didn't get into poetry until later in life... Been round the block witnessed too many idiots pretending to know what it's all about - and only when it's too late finding out that they should never have put their hand up!

— The End —