Hashtags.
Used to promote to get more attraction to a desired cause
To create a movement , to even open doors
But - like most things it has its flaws
Used to manipulate for narrative control
Stories of real life trauma
Plastered on social media
To be auctioned of and sold
To the highest bidder- usually a politician
Their favourites, those that contain stories of racism
Not because they care
But for emotional manipulation
Used to make them look like a 'diverse hero'
Claiming to love everyone
Yet create policies for a mandatory stop and patrol
'Coincidentally' in only black neighbourhoods
Most hashtags aren't even harmful
If used for the greater good, it can be very useful
A way for slogans to become a movement
One example - #blacklivesmatter
To boost, to help go viral
To become a worldwide sensation
After all you can never have enough people
To tackle this centuries long issue
Yet human nature makes people resentful
When they aren't the centre of attention - when they aren't popular
Usually the oppressors, they can't stand feeling inferior
They'll twist a cause to suit their reputation
After all what's a campaign without deception
In the outskirts of London,
a queen started
without a crown.
Born again after
be born in another country.
Slave of himself
and the circunstances.
Knowing about his jewel,
his pride made him dream.
Refused by his origins,
he tried to hid them.
His teeth weren't straight,
he suffered inside.
A unique voice
in the smoky places,
low neighbourhoods,
trying to be heard.
A queen without a crown,
came out to life.
A queen was born again,
he sang the best rock songs.
He was alive, rich and famous.
Lost in the fame, he lost his
crown.
She or he never been encountered.
After all the way he made,
fighting for a crown,
he left with the crown,
being a queen and a big
place in history.
His remarkable moustache,
his songs, his crazy personality.
An inmortal queen close forever to us.
We can’t make this up.
We can’t justify the tears.
We’ll struggle to ask for their forgiveness in our prayers.
We can’t hide away the doubt and the fears.
We’ve lost so many now.
They do not seem to care.
We’ve seen families ripped apart because the promised; ‘the promised’ was never even there.
Where do we stand?
Where do the dark thoughts go?
Where does the healing hand hide?
Where did the dignity, the empathy, the humility, the kindness of our nation go?
We’ve seen our neighbourhoods change.
Crime seems to be picking up the pace.
Rights removed from our lives because profit and power shine brighter than the children whose parents think xenophobia is ace!
Where will it lead?
What will it spark?
When will the sun shine on the ‘sunlit uplands’ forever in the dark.
Lies, lies, lies, lies, lies.
Truth and honesty do not politicians do.
They’ve taken us for fools.
Yes, that’s right…
me and you.
They are nature's gifts to us,
A sign of its benevolence,
Her hands have sown and nurtured them,
They are to beautify our landscape.
They are evidence of nature's dexterity,
She watches over them with keen interest,
They are in her embrace,
They sprout spreading out their blossomed boughs.
All around us, they abound,
In our neighbourhoods, they can be found,
There's an aura of hope around them,
Some have weathered unfavourable climes.
We have lightly esteemed them,
We have discarded them from our communities,
They are not prized by us
as they are by nature.
Let’s heed the clarion call,
Restore the fallen,
Let’s be change makers.
Let's be nature drivers.
March 18, 2023.
Pick - A - Title, Vol. 35 Poetry Contest,
Edward Ibe.
an early mourning stroll, and hours spent passing through as many neighbourhoods,
and sometimes you sob so
violently that you cannot contain
noises breaking past your lips, sounds
usually repressed. sometimes you can only
sob while pacing the streets, and sometimes you
must spend hours shaking, shaking, pacing the streets.
step after step. you roll your shoulders, gasp;
i think of making you a playlist. i think about the order of the
songs so i can communicate to you my witness. oh,
how precious you are. my Love, we sit on secrets. there is more
to say, that which surpasses language. perhaps, music could help
approximate; and Dearest, i digress.
not a playlist. a poem instead,
gracelessly splattering ink
in an attempt at abstraction,
to bring another viewpoint of Love into focus.
just for you.
the house gardens contain miracles.
wrong pillow. neck knot. ache.
April Love
April comes rushing to the shore,
bringing her joys in by the score
It's looking grand down in the woods
and the adjoining neighbourhoods.
Coming alive now are the trees,
filled with blossom and budding leaves
Scattered showers helping to grow
fledgling flowers for summers show.
Longer days to one’s sheer delight
and the coming of shorter nights
Soft and dulcet mild spring breezes
wave goodbye to winter freezes.
April blows magic in the air,
her gift to lovers everywhere
The beginning of things anew,
life, hope, wishes, dreams coming true.
Hark the buzzing of busy bees,
seeking nectar from blossom trees
Birds busily building their nests,
hideaways from unwelcome guests.
Young lambs prancing in a spring dance,
watched over by mother’s proud glance
Look at lovely eyes of a calf,
glorious heart stealers they are.
April invites one to explore,
scenery outside the front door
So many wonders to be seen,
where the April fairies have been.
17th April 2021
Drones fill the air, they black out the sun
Each ordered to do what has to be done
The payload they carry delivered poste haste
Commands are hand typed and some cut and paste
The beasts and the birds take what comes their way
Our brand new tomorrow, demanded today
So drones hit our neighbourhoods time after time
We should have been warned about Amazon Prime
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree
How bright and cheery there you be
Your twinkling lights so numerous
Your chocolate baubles humorous
I stand and stare, you’re standing there,
With golden tinsel everywhere
Your shining star, how bright you are
You travelled from so very far
These neighbourhoods which have no woods
We love our oriental goods
So have no fear, we’ll keep you near
Up in the loft until next year
So Christmas tree, O Christmas tree
Your box, I’ve taped up carefully
But what is this? I must be pissed
I’ve found a bauble that I’ve missed
What a great idea at St Mary's by the Sea,
Surplus food is offered for free.
Take some out or put yours in
If too old, there's a pig food bin.
Thoughtfully built community cupboard,
Snug shelter for all that is stored.
So, no need to be bored
Look in your hoard!
See if you have something to give
Make someone's life easier to live.
Maybe can swap for a needed lift
Everyday needs a little gift!
Written 22 August 2018
Our neighbourhoods are acting on the light of community caring.
Something I have been envisaging and promoting by living it for decades.
Now the ball is really rolling along!
Bremerhaven
Bremerhaven, 1957 was a stunned town
Illegal bars and whorehouses for the many sailors
Who brought material to re- built the town
It was a summer and in bombed out neighbourhoods
There as accordion music
And patriotic songs from the war were sung
I was so young back then, and the whores spoilt me rotten
So many ships coming in they were busy and
Then there was the American base to service, but even
Then, at my tender age, I could not stop thinking
How efficient the Germans were they had lost but were
Strangely happy re- building the lost years, the war
Had cleaned their souls.
A boy lines up plastic soldiers
In straight rows across his floor.
He knocks them down with callow ease
In a naive game of war.
Far across the deepest ocean,
In between rich, well-known places,
Little boys become those soldiers -
Grow hard lines upon their faces.
Guns weigh down their frail frames,
As they march in groups like drones;
Passing by jumbles of bodies -
Messy piles of flesh and bones.
One cries softly in the corner,
Another cannot bear the sound.
He takes the blunt side of his gun
And beats the other to the ground.
In the streets they pass right over
Mothers murdered, sisters raped,
Countless men whose limbs are broken,
But whose empty eyes still gape.
Narrow roads become red rivers,
Neighbourhoods go up in flames,
Backyards turn into cold graveyards -
Still they play this twisted game.
Far across the deepest ocean,
In the richest, well-known places,
Boys line up their plastic soldiers
With blind smiles upon their faces.
Our neighbourhoods our prisons
Outside fear, death, street barons
Streetwar innocent souls deadens
Guns, daggers, stickers in dozens
Nothing to do but the others hate
In dark corners the weak predate
Beware of tempting bait
You may end up in a strait
Join a wicked gang
Have no feelings no pang
Just follow the yang
Drugs, girls, bang bang bang
East Berlin
Before the wall fell
Under the lamppost
In silhouette tell
So still they stood
To a window they look
They put the fear of death
In scare ridden spook
These Ministry shadows
Who haunted neighbourhoods
Persecuting the weak
Because they know they could
After the wall fell
It became their demise
This Stasi, State Security
In all out despise
Many people died
Or simply disappeared
By these silhouettes under the lamppost
That a nation feared
After the wall fell
They were hunted and traced
This Stasi, State Security
Have finally been erased
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/places.php
The day will come soon
As our safety ceases to exist
Mans determination
In his killing persists
Street crime is rising
To feed the life of drugs
Many people are afraid
Of these sick cowardly thugs
Society needs to change
Addressed by the powers that be
The ones that have been elected
In trust, by you and me
We need to change the rules
Prison sentences need to be revised
If your prepared to deal in drugs
Twenty years looks good in my eyes
Then it comes to murder
Where many citizens, they fall
But their killers are alive in prison
Their breathing, their living through it all
The world has so much compassion
It's time to channel it's feelings
No forgiveness for these scum
Execution, watch their feelings reeling
Compassion has to have passion
For the right to get rid of the wrong
And just maybe one day it will happen
As the whole world sings the same song
The chances of this happening
As they are sworn into government places
They stand proud to ask for our votes
Once elected, they appear to have two faces
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-2.php
Last seen in the forest
These sisters three
Sightings in the Nordic region
Ice masses in melting spree
Glaciers that roamed
Like reindeer herds
Their speed of demise
Had never been heard
Lowlands in countries
Lost to the mass
Populations shifting
Like herds on the grass
Climates changing
Overnight
The dangers out there
The worlds in blight
Floods encroaching
Power Stations
Blackouts throughout
Many nations
Events are happening
All the world over
These sisters three
In their evil of clover
The waters rise
As many animals drown
Diseased neighbourhoods
In our cities and towns
Carcases floating
Bloated, infested
The might of the right
Once again to be tested
For many generations
The world is in fight
Once again we unite
To turn black into white
First part was " Their Ritual in the Forest "
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy4.php
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