He waved his Union Flag,
Sang God Save The King,
And when he passed away
Didn’t leave a thing.
Very quickly disposed of
By the state machine
In an unmarked grave
As though he’d never been.
The King sat in his palace
Unaware of the loss
And if he’d been told
Wouldn’t have given a toss.
Not the type of person
For his passing to matter,6
Not one of those wealthy
Who materially waxed fatter.
Just one of the lower order
Whose presence was a bore
Except as cannon fodder
In a nation’s time of war.
Manipulators still manipulate
And believers still believe,
The lonely and bereaved
Somehow find time to grieve.
His peers still waved the flag,
Sang God Save The King,
And i don’t believe
They’ll ever learn a thing.
stuck questioning if someone has feelings for you
unrequited love: I smiled never amazed by what
happens. I doubt if she has feelings for me, I'd question
why. It's probably because she can easily say what she
thinks in such clearity, and do to such affordability's
it can be justified as me being the right guy for her.
I felt the pressure of being pressured into a situation.
I knew for one she is temporay and those
eorminat fixtures in my life
wouldn't understand why I allowed her to position me.
" One of her friends told me a story about her brother
she said when they were small, she put cookie crumbs on
his face while he was sleeping and told there father he
took the cookies' See that kinda stuff just speak
about a person."I aint in know kinda love for real man!"
-------------------------limerence------------------------------------
--------- manipulators who used deceit, flattery, and--------------------------------------------- -----------------emotional pressure to achieve their goals-------------------------------------
She is A-1 singing and all but as a wife I'd think about it.
Don’t say anything sharp lest the implication cut…
Search bar complicity,
Algorithm conspirators,
Digital manipulators,
Bending law to suit perversion,
Our sexualised youth,
Internet fed,
Corporate political lies,
Dressed as a lifestyle;
Undressed,
Exploitation as a business model,
The fifteen year old bikini model,
Jailbreak Jailbait,
Enter Ai,
Prompt; Undress…wave morality goodbye.
End…
by D.N. Read2026©
Sounds of spoken silence, a slight bit slippery,
Comfortable claims that ease and sing perfect songs,
Rescuing eruptive ridges embroidered in effervescent languages,
Oh, the uncomplex nature of your predictable valiance,
I’ve watched plenty of promises pretend to prosper,
While pouring perishing peace into pieces of me.
If to love you, sunken scars must bleed not bruise,
If to move you, soul must listen not speak
If we must live, what parts of us would die?
For I ache to pierce through materials manufactured by misled manipulators,
So, Before the instrument full of stain begins its calligraphy,
Mark me with the winter that hold your heart,
Tell the frost, how your limbs draw out my gravest parts,
It is your festering flaw, your voice that still anguishes me,
A sickness , for a figure driven by shame.
Moonchild
I held him dying in my arms
As he whispered hoarsely
‘Don’t let them forget;
Remember me
And show them how wrong
That right can be.’
In a second he was gone
His place removed
From the table.
No one would ever know
His talents or how far
His influence could have gone.
Perhaps as a physician
He would have healed thousands.
As an agrarian wizard
He might have spared Biafra
Those swollen stomachs.
He could have found the True God,
But like billions before him
He was sacrificed
By the manipulators of destiny:
The Apache chiefs on the hill,
Braves dying.
Generals in the command post,
Platoons slaughtered.
The Judas goat
And always the 300 Spartans,
The Light Brigade and Pickett’s Charge.
The shield, to be protector,
Or the death slab,
And more await
Packed in the pens of town and city
Like so much cattle
Awaiting the word of the manipulator
Clothed in the worn-out
Hole-ridden mantle of freedom
And another handshake
And another tear-stained kiss
And another ‘We’re proud of you boy.’
And another ‘You’re doing a fine job.
And another medal.
And another flag
And another and another and another ...
How much of life do we catch
as we walk briskly past windows
behind each a drama unfolding
How much of life do we miss
as we speed past tenements teeming
with primal emotions, like downed power lines
alive with passion and angst
How much of life can we know as
as we fly across continents
spanning time zones of populations divers
running the gamut from AI-creators and
manipulators to prep cooks, no-counts and killers
How much of life would have enriched us if attention were paid
to the windows on the journeys that you and I've made
Being Desperate to succeed,
Means desperate to foresee.
To foresee the rudiments of success,
On steady look and not on swift races.
Though sense organs react to tranny's pains,
If they endure, it results to plenty gains.
As tolerance life's span has no limit,
That's why success stay for no limit.
There are tyrant on the walls of pen and paper,
That even syringe manipulators inherent tyranny from the paper.
All spheres of life experience tyranny,
Sometimes to compact us not tyranny.
Those who persevere stand up concretized,
As rocks that have been conscientised.
Following this noble trend,
Is to know thy godlily friend.
A raise of thy shoulder is a total down,
For the way up is head and shoulder down.
Disseminated, I fell in Fall
A Cascade of Amber Autumn Leaves
Rejected and Cast Away by Deep Rooted Seasoned Trees
Purged of Energy that no Longer Align
Nature's Foreboding Warning Sign.
Discarded By the Gravity, Mercurial Retrograded
I Succumbed, Physically Numbed to Embrace Transformation
Pluto deemed Necessary Shadow Self Initiation
For My Path is Destined, A Daunting Journey
Where I Confront Layers of My Soul and Fulfil My Destiny
For When Lifeless Leaves Fall From Their Hosts of Trees
In the New Luna I Shed Outdated Tendencies.
Within Chaos is Order, Scorpio's Moon Emotionally Drenched
Illusions Of Fear and Limitations Shackled and Benched
No more Tears, Isolated from Mundane Manipulators
I Reject the Noise, Choosing the Peacemakers
Hibernated in a Cocoon of Self Discovery, Secure from the Torpid Winter
Connected to the All, Yet a Solitary Snowflake, An Icy Splinter
In Winters Brutal Hold, Profound Wisdom in a Snowflake Unfold
At Home In Comfort in Pluto's Ninth Mansion
Metamorphic Recycled Soul Secured In A Celestial Tapestry of Expansion.
Don't anger us
We so dangerous
Spirits speaking
It's not for the carnal
Man on a mission
Liberation thy goal
Mediocre can't relate.
Our words
So dangerous
To manipulators
Oppressors and more
It threatens their system
We're the liberators
Liberating people
From all forms of slavery.
You can't ruin us
rule us negatively
We so generous
Divinely guided
Highly protected
All time, places and realms
We've got fierce protectors
Giving us confidence
We are so dangerous but meek
Almighty God we always lean on.
They, the invisible manipulators
that speak for us all,
they called us 'the people'.
Some went seeking Big Foot,
we needed a sasquatch, a mentor.
Some tried hallucinogens,
others called it a day too soon.
Snicker bars were getting smaller,
there was much unfocused discontent.
The dead were accused of letting us down
far too gently.
The people waited
for an artificial Intelligence,
a drug to lead them
to make better decisions.
People lost faith in people,
buskers pawned their guitars and flutes,
violins were sold for guns.
It was the best of the worst,
and it did not get any better
just suspiciously easier.
Why don’t they teach you in school
all the different ways of people
the narcissists need to control
their treatment that turns cold
the manipulators need to hold
separating heart from soul
We do not see evil deeds until it is our time to bleed
the tricksters lies to deceive, the rule book they will never read,
emotional blackmail or coercion killing the dream of the person
the tattletales fictional version always depicting who is the worse one
Because those who don’t play by the rules
don’t stop until you’re miserable
teaching what’s not taught in school
so you learn after the fall
Mental health is on a scale
success as easy as the fail
yet with no method to tell
behaviour heading straight for Hell
so in this world made of people
we cannot detect what’s lethal
taught things which we have no need for
psychology is what we should teach more
Armour up our mental health
protecting us from someone else
just some knowledge there to help
so we see evil deeds in stealth
A radar to protect oneself
armed to save our mental health
Mr MrsManipulators agents and schemers,
Hustlers prying on individuals emotions, trust
and finances. Merchants of manipulating a fraud Mr Mrs instigators scheming lies charmers and influencers of deceptions plotting one's downfall to gain popularity and notoriery.
I OPENED A DOOR IN THE UNIVERSE
TO WITNESS WHAT I BELIEVE IS WAR.
LITTLE DID I REALIZE
IT WAS THAT AND SO MUCH MORE.
A WAR BETWEEN RELIGIONS,
SOCIETY AND BELIEVES
PURVEYORS OF DECEPTION
MANIPULATORS OF DECEIT.
CONFUSION, CHAOS, MAYHEM,
DEPLOYED TO CREATE THE BLIND.
POISONING OF THE FUTURE
BY POISONING YOUNG MINDS.
CONTROL OVER BEINGS FREEDOMS.
CONTROL OVER THE WAY THEY THINK.
PSYCHOPATHS COMPETING
TO PUSH BELIEVERS TO THE BRINK.
THEY'RE LIVING IN A SOCIETY
WHERE CULTIST DISTRIBUTE LIES.
TRUTH SEEKERS SEEK THE TRUTH
AND ASK THE QUESTION WHY.
LIVE IN ETERNAL DARKNESS
OR LIVE IN ETERNAL LIGHT.
EVERYONE WAS GIVEN THE CHOICE
TO DO WHAT THEY BELIEVE IS RIGHT.
EVIL RESIDES IN DARKNESS.
BELIEVERS, STAND IN LIGHT.
INVASION OF DISBELIEVERS
BELIEVERS STAND AND FIGHT.
ELEVATED CONSCIOUSNESS
IS WHAT EVIL FEARS THE MOST.
RESIDING INSIDE EVERY BEING
IS THE SPIRIT OF THE HOLY GHOST.
THERE IS ONLY GOOD AND EVIL.
THERE IS ONLY RIGHT AND WRONG.
AFTER EVERY TWILIGHT
THEY MUST FACE THE LIGHT OF DAWN.
Michael E. Harris
04172022
I have seen
Insensitive men
That flourish
With power
Inside the office boardroom,
Manipulators.
Spilling blood
Of inspired culture
A place where
Slight of tongue
Turns the blade within the wound,
Hard men are cut down.
How is one
Suppose to respect
All this crap
When marooned
In the mist of tyranny?
And one-way highways.
Hone one’s mind
Within the wanton wit
Deliver
Pen and ink
The fatal blow of a rhyme,
Tag him in his prime.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
manipulators fall short
they don't achieve
no honour to report
they're just weak
competition avoided
witnesses none
petty defiance
sinisterly done
this their weapon
whispered ideas
even threaten
vicious toward fear
leading down
not true leaders
feeling crowned
woeful weakness
selfish uncaring
fake when sparing
twisted daring
two faced staring
entitled in their minds
non progressive with time
victims of crime
sympathy onside
they don't think beyond
stuck this day and night
conclusion foregone
delusion says their right
abusing authority
never a majority
silent priorities
perspective victory
a belief they know best
stand above the rest
yet never contest
nor win yet feel blessed
they are scum
they are dumb
they're not fun
humour, they've none
but they live in their own little world
thinking the way of aged 5 boy or girl
they believe in just a path blind to the field
mentally and physically make you hurl
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