Hey..' I'm gonna tell ya bout an Aussie gurl
That sheila called Iyah..Who's pummeling
Out hell.' she used a throw away
camera and made (that song; karma-geddon) wow
She sings it out strong, i swear old
satan is quaking..Cause she also found God and
Like a billion followers.? Now with the
Truth she's sure shod.' Shoot'n from
those sweet lips' what the whole world needs
to hear.' Bout
Evil billionaires and scientists..Oh dear oh dear.? About
Wicked actors on smutty screens, the dark side of stardom, that is sick and so obscene, her medicine is
shooting round like lightning, the world is waking up, shes like
The best of our Nation, why don't ya go
look up her stuff? Hear the reality, feel
The answers, as they rise up in you.' As
she shoots it from the lips, giving cover so
You'll make it through!, Get there to her side, and pray for your soul, in this time of
Of proof and testing, just put satan on hold..Tune in to Iyah..Turn to her page she; is to be found
on most information platforms, don't
delay act now, spread this info..
Its a deffo.' Hey just turn her up' AND MAKE IT LOUD !!!!!
This poem was originally written for and submitted to Writer Monk's monthly poetry contest on social conscience August 1, 2026
Morning rose over two cities
that no longer knew their own names~
light too bright, silence too large,
that felt like the world forgetting how to breathe.
Shadows clung to walls where people once stood,
soft silhouettes of lives interrupted mid-gesture,
mid-dream.
The air carried a strange stillness,
as though time itself had bowed its head.
And yet from the scorched earth,
from the quiet ash,
from the trembling remnants of what had been~
a small, stubborn pulse began again.
Hands reached for hands; voices rose in prayer.
Memory gathered itself into a vow
that sorrow would not be forgotten,
and peace would not be postponed.
Even now, the sky remembers
the day humanity learned how fragile it can be.
warmth flushes red on skin
embers rekindle pleasant memories withheld
deep within
firework flares glow
showers of bliss, bright with delight
on show
cascades
spurt splutter then
fades
warmth flushes red on skin
showers of bliss, bright with delight
fades
BOMB BOMB BOMB IRAN
THE EXTENT OF THE TRUMP PLAN
NOW CRAP HITS THE FAN
Flash, white, piercing bright
sight runs down our cheeks
Blisters boil on blackened flesh
where yellow puss now seeps
Oxygen burnt from heated air
nothing left to breath
Piles of broken smoking bones
no one left to grieve
Before the thunderous roaring sound
splits our eardrums deep
Torrents of rushing, gushing wind
fling us from our feet.
Microscopic particles
penetrate our skins
Reaching down into our souls
to cleanse away our sins
The ravages of war take their toll
Soldiers left out stranded on the field
Letters to loved ones half written
Much to read between the lines
Love affairs never to be resumed
Dreams aborted at the cost of peace
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Red car
Red light
Bomb blast
Dream past
Soulless
Heartless
Crime chime
Pain bane
Whistle echoes in the tunnel
then smoke belches upwards
as the train halts at the platform
Disgorging its passengers
before porters offload baggage
Cases, trunks, sacks – all claimed
But no
There on the platform two suitcases
Side by side, travelling twins of no fixed abode
Ace of Spades on one, King of Hearts on the other
Unnoticed
Porters distracted as the cavalcade announces its arrival
Guard of honour, red carpet, bowed heads -
trappings of power and privilege
Gliding through the booking hall
onto the platform
Glancing left not right
Two suitcase stand forlorn
Something stirs within
in an instant, carnage
No train
No platform
No power
No privilege
The end of monarchy
The start of republic
Suitcase slaughter
Suitcase solution
Only one word in English
170 definitions
how fragile
the human heart must be
to fracture and break
shudder and quake,tremble and ache
defined by a single word
whispered or shouted
given or rejected
love
our home grown monarch
shall swing open war's hell gate~
h r
s o
u o
m m
c l o u d s
i n
b l
o o m
1946 United States authorities
chose to exercise freedom of choice
and forcibly relocated 167 Marshall islanders
King Juda he agreed as their voice
from Bikini Atoll east to Rongerik
a small island which adequate resources lacked
with the promise they would return
so much for the U.S. Right of Freedom Act
and with little regard to radiation or fallout
the beautiful coral lagoon's sad fate
was a nuclear weapon testing site
twenty-three tests in all 'til 1958
but scientists miscalculated
a dry-fuel thermonuclear bomb they blew
For 46 years - prideful and hateful
Wrath, envy, spreading the net
Building an A-Bomb, a decision fateful
A sword to be held, like eternal threat
Destruction, murder, elimination
Iran, to wipe Israel off the map
A sordid task for the whole nation
Stubborn threats, boasts, contempt
It was their purpose, the goal, the aim
To end every Jew on planet Earth
Fanned hot Middle Eastern flame
To Hamas and Hezbollah, they gave birth
Spread the tentacles, to suffocate
To build an Islamic Republic empire
Never learned from the old caliphates
They are all gone, purged by fire
Lusted for bomb, to be held as a club
Over every fearful head, forever
Wanted to enter the atomic club
By picking the locks and feeling clever
The last mile, they were almost there
To grip the victory with the jaws
Removing all stops, and didn’t care
Moving forward without pause
But no, those dreams never came to pass
Atomic Persia, the purveyor of dread
Where are you now, evil top brass?
Someplace unfound, unburied and dead
June 16, 2025
We spoke Trakl and Warhol
We lulled the day between us
You make me free
holding your voice
has meant something
Daybreak your eager call
Belief is a new thing
I'm into you
Has the new year brought me love,
Or just more solitude and misery?
Can it give a glimpse of happiness,
That's not inclined to a forgery?
I suppose that time will be the monitor,
As days, weeks, and months become the year.
Yet I am left to wonder and inquire,
Towards the pace, fast or slow, that I fear.
Often, there's a fuse to trigger an explosion,
Though it is difficult to know if it's been lit.
So while the seconds tick away in anxiety,
The minutes blow right on by and won't quit.
Such is the nature that time possesses,
Whether expanding or contracting in space.
Not to mention all the bending and gravity,
It's no wonder it can blow up in one's face.
You won’t find me when you’re looking,
But you will know when I am gone,
Every single second feels like a year,
My hearts ticking like a bomb.
One day you will remember me,
Like a good old fashion song,
You never forgot the words to,
My hearts ticking like a bomb.
You take your time to notice,
You hear the sound of the alarms,
But you reached inside and pull the pin.
There is no moving on.
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