My point of view on 'pred o viles' and their
Socital enboldenment..Could take a while?
As lifes daily press won't allow space, to
Go down those hard miles.' I'll point now to
The only bedrock firm in place.' The Gospel whole it
Never do spurn, its built up heros and heroines, pulling from hells shadows the vile and obscene, placing saul who did
Murder familiys whole, into grace
unearned cutting away all his vanitys.' Placing him up to his chest in full 'cesspit holes he stuck the course' preaching of Jesus..And true remorse.' he
Stood the trials that God watched and allowed, as He approved His new worker as only He knows how.' In chains and whipped and saved he stood.' To become the apostle
Who God made sure; got real; and good.'
Every morning, he wakes up alone.
Having dreamt of a feeling, one he’s never really known
expecting a message, but there’s nothing on the phone
this garden was once exciting, now it’s all overgrown.
He sees them in the town, not an inch of a frown
fuelled by the beauty of a blessed promise
to always be there, when the world is not fair,
to hold each other’s hands regardless of fate’s plans.
His friends discuss their busy months ahead, while he lays there in his cesspit of dread
left with the wanderers, the ones who said
that they had boyfriends as they sat on his bed.
He sits with his thoughts, night into dawn
dreams of the arms and how he’d bathe in the charm
of just one that could hold, a heart once so cold.
Because no matter what he’s been told, to find refuge in self, to brave through the cold,
the self is a lot to hold.
Our minds are becoming a cesspit
full of wokeness and misinformation
fuelled by a media that lies.
It's time we awoke from this madness
before big corporations poison our minds.
The casualty of all this nonsense
Is that truth no longer exist
The silent majority, have been silent to long
to all this deceit and corruption that lives.
Fingertips click a
desperate breakbeat
as eyes glaze over
in blue light baptism
please overwhelm me
Binary jungle,
you glowing cesspit
through the clipping
curtain echoes a choir
of post-post ironic
agoraphobics.
Dopamine is a myth,
an expired meme
deemed mega cringe
Let the file rot into
informational abscess
Here we all wait before
Heaven's blockchained gate
tired of partaking into
a satire so removed from
a cogent solution,
It is simply void.
Here is coldest oblivion in
this stupid cyborg machine,
but the world is so
Y2K heat death-core
Whatever that means
It turned a generation
made us abandonware
Just to feed us nostalgia
for times when we
would bother to care.
The world in sudden chaos,
we hear the silent whispers but dare not say a word
Shrouded in uncertainty is our vision now so
blurred?
We go about our business as if it all is fine
But the world is full of messages, so hard for us to define
The way we live has changed all helped along by us
And now it’s becoming difficult we all kick up A fuss.
Hunger, poverty, displacements, genocide,
Atrocities, war, suppression, oppression
To name but a few,
It’s happening all over,
But that’s a fact we knew.
What’s happening in all The world
is now sign of times
The devil will be paying for all his violent crimes.
It’s always been a cesspit, this planet ruled by hate,
By greedy power hungry sods who knows when they be sate!
The hatred is exploding like rockets in the skies
The news and reporters blaming, trying to demonise.
You cannot combat evil
When you are fuelled with hate
The truth is what is written
That is the human fate.
if we all come together and offer peace instead,
We shall turn upon the Devil and turn him
On his head!!!!
Cesspit
The shovelling soldiers are sent off to war
To dig latrines so their soldier brethren can
Not in peace but to empty their guts between fights
Ukrainians have other ideas they want to kill them all
Dead soldiers and hole diggers means more Russians
Who can no longer fight or hurt innocent Ukrainians
How many Ivan cesspit spade men have been eradicated?
Kill them all so the soldiers their pants before dying
From Ukrainian bullets and high tech Allied weapons
The more the better in this video game war
Eventful War Book 2
Nick Armbrister and other writers
A dazzling forest of an armpit
By watchers paired up with cesspit,
A moment's confirming touch of this
By much displeased hell - raising Doris,
Sure it would puncture Marital Bliss
And all day keep her courting a hiss;
More so, her unhygienic Elvis;
Issues has with The Vilest Pelvis...
No longer The Forgiving Girl friend,
She is now seeking its abrupt end:
Not the best pelvis for love making;
Why would any Eve stop a - raking?
Elvis' suddenly stirred Ring finger
Ready to find out what does linger,
His fore finger to soon face Eugene
For a marriage - delaying hygiene.
Go through this wee door,
Walk further and more.
Then you’ll understand,
How it’s hard to stand,
They encroach on me,
I don’t hold the key.
Dawn unlocks the door,
I wrestle and war.
Who'll bring me respite?
Enclose the cesspit.
A torrential flow,
In succeeding row.
I’m not the outside,
Come to my inside.
I'll sail the tempest,
Move till the conquest.
0ctober 5, 2022.
A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest,
Btian Strand.
A shiny forest of an armpit
By Ninety-Five percent a cesspit;
A quick verifying touch of this
By Ridiculed Christopher Elvis
Also brandishing a moist pelvis,
For long months now excused by Doris
His Understanding, Hopeful Girlfriend
But clearly seeking its abrupt end.
Anew, Elvis investigative finger
Goes for The Sticky Feeling that would linger,
His Poor Hygiene Principal Bell Ringer
And Change-for-the-Better Soft Singer;
To his Dad something he should be killed for,
As he keeps wondering what he’s waiting for,
Already by him pronounced A Serious Matter
And on Offending Elvis’ Head a metallic clatter …
His show of disgust had to be perfected
Because Elvis has a wisdom rejected
“All the stops pulling out to pick poor hygiene
From his interactions with Useless Eugene!”
So, we stand upon the brink
Of our Society as we watch it sink
Under the weight of the political mire and it’s representatives so dire
Our England is at stake
Our England is what they’ve made
A junk yard of promised truths
A cesspit of lies and untruths
Do we watch it sink into the the world
Watch it fail with no strength at all.
Or do we stand and raise our hands
Do we say these are ours,
these lands.
Do we have a slither of the muscled strength that our ancestors showed with no pretence.
They fought and died for you and me
They fought and died for this country
What are we?
What are we?
theres something going on
I heard it on the news
they're wittering on about it
at church, while sat in the pews
Jezza has been muttering
about something stupid
His relationship with May
will not require cupid
And all that Gatwick stuff
my friend said on the phone
I didn't really listen
As she does just tend to drone
I've really had enough
the UK's a cesspit
listening to all the trash
about this blinking Brexit
So I'll kick back and rest
and have a pint of beer
Peace on earth, Good will to all,
Happy Christmas and New Year!
(c) Ian Diddams 2018
Your comment
Sent me
On a strange path
Of great thought
And reflection
And times past
With great mental strain
Synapsis drained
I feel
Low
And tired
If a little
Depressed
That
I have come
To a point
A conclusion
If you will
Be enlightened
That Life
Is Life
That Man
Is Man
Never to wake
To see the Dawn
In May
Always
Cursed too
Sleeping
Sleeping
And so adverse to
Dreaming
Dreaming
But not of
A universal consciousness
With so many Cultures
With Vultures abound
That common ground
Is but a swamp
Clad in dead trees
Mist and murk
Lies and fake news
Surrounded
By wall streets
Profit
At Humanities loss
Child and forced labour
A cesspit of sex crimes
Man’s current state
Of enlightened times
So can you imagine
Or dream if you dare
Where man
Puts others
First
Before himself
And lifts those below
Up past his equal
I can’t
Man, never will
He seems
Condemned
Content
To Dreaming
Dreaming
Of what
Might have been
A conscious time
Out of his reach
In the silence of sadness,
what will the winds bring tomorrow?
In the sadness of silence,
my soul sighs soft breaths of sorrow.
Where did those rainbows go,
reminiscing happier times?
Thunder brings further misery -
am I victim of my own crimes?
I must have betrayed the sun,
for it offers no sanctuary.
Moon refuses to shine in the darkness,
since when were you my adversary?
When there was love,
it never rained so violently.
Winds would come and go,
fading away so silently.
Mind drowns in a somber cesspit,
struggling to cope with your demons of pride.
I don't know what I've become,
since you left, I've died a little inside.
Simple Musing
Silent One
7 February 2019
Example for I died a little inside contest.
It's so cold in this cauldron of sadness.
I'm drowning in a cesspit of darkness.
When will it rain to wash these sorrows free?
Before wicked waves drown me in the sea.
Emotions naked like an Autumn tree,
yearn to taste warm nectar from the queen bee.
Stubbornly silent, buried in past pride,
content to remain, till the soul has died.
Hollow heart hungers for a soothing voice,
so this solemn soul can dance in rejoice.
Bitter silence leads to further despair,
no words are left for this bond to repair.
Tears flow like floods, creating an ocean,
immersed, life flashes by in slow motion.
Silent One
Simple sonnet musings
15 December 2017
Living in a jobless country, thousands emigrating every month,
Long gone are the times of the Celtic tiger and the Irish punt.
The economy has collapsed into a heap on the floor,
A depressing recession is hard to ignore.
Politicians are greedy and getting more desperate,
Now this country is turning into a cesspit.
Honestly dishonesty is at an all-time high,
Profiteering politicians telling lie after lie.
They expect us to believe them, but it’s clearly all lies,
It’s so obvious you can see it without opening your eyes.
Rent and homelessness increasing, too expensive to be leasing,
Health and education decreasing while politicians keep fleecing.
And that phony Simon Coveney is nothing but a clown,
Do you really think he cares about the people in your town?
Democracies don’t become corrupt overnight, this takes time,
Slowly but surely it starts to decline.
Sub Categories
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