George Galloway, does his re-search is
Passionate..I beleive 'for open fair debate''
I see some things he articulates that i do not agree with..Yet how can faults be corrected? With closed minds.' Closed narratives.? Insofar as his willingness to
Engage with real events.' And to admit if he
Realises he has reported an error.' I find no
Fault there..So I hope you who read my posts.' And I am sure there are some.' Might go to ( you-tube) and see what you
Gather.? I post this to be of service to free
Speech, even though it be the very least..I
Hope? its a counter..To the (false prophet and beast')
He emerges from the twilight of his troubles
and walks into the light of a new day,
finding hope in the arrival of its elements,
searching for redemption on the illuminated path.
He learns a lesson from every wound;
Every darkness takes him back to his roots,
to the mystery hidden in his ancestors’ footsteps,
to the veil that silences his echoes.
A sage was sent to him—
a priestess who had long sought to understand the mystery of the unseen.
Together, they journeyed through a meadow of shadows,
where she spoke to the Gatekeeper of the refreshing dawn.
He understands that life is filled with complexities and perplexities.
He realises that the unseen shapes the seen.
He also knows that there will be an end to strife at Zion’s gate.
Because of this, he watches, listens, prays, hopes, and waits.
October 18, 2025.
“Emancipation (Kaivalya) is obtained when one realises the oneness of this Self with the universal Self, the Supreme Reality.”
~ extract from ‘The Holy Science’
from jiva, Atma to Paramatma
our ego, the Self and God absolute
this is the pathless path we need to cross
attained in stillness, if heart’s resolute
thought cessation exhumes fear and desire
starved of attention, our ego then dies
we then behold our Self as living light
where seeking ends, each heartbeat a sunrise
yet beyond Self is Brahman absolute
luminous darkness containing the all
God is the substratum of existence
the consciousness within which we stand tall
body-mind alone is caged in space-time
whilst transcendent Self mirrors God’s heartbeat
we all dwell in God and He dwells in us
recognising the truth, we feel complete
Happy Days
Each is given breath,
above soil, toil and glory,
mouths expel a tirade,
behind a masquerade.
Each born pure in heart,
soon shattered; broken
jagged pieces maybe scattered.
Each feels the beats hidden deep inside.
It struggles to love, but rages!
against tears cried, each supplied
with both organs, and need,
exhausted moment, emitting seed.
Each with eyes, unable to detect lies,
a tongue its whip sting, able to chastise,
each is not supplied in rubies and gold,
a fool realises, in late life now is to olde.
Each foot step trudge,
to the hole in soil;
hazily remembers the glory,
not the toil. Happy days indeed !
The Widow
At sixteen she is a widow
She is still a kiddo
With a baby in her arm
Life will be no charm
She’s now like her brother
Who has a child without a mother
His wife chose the street
Killed as she was standing beat
But now she must look after herself
Not wanting to sit on the shelve.
Now she has a great need
her baby she must feed
Selling her body for her baby
with her that’s no maybe
Her baby must eat
and that’s a job she’ll meet.
After 2 years on the streets
A member of the gang she meets
Initially they fall for each other
Not knowing he killed his mother
Very soon he starts beating her
She now works for him in fear
He was found in an alley dead
He was shot in the head.
She realises in her life of sorrow
she will remain a widow.
She takes her baby she must feed.
So, she moves back to the street
REALITY HUNGRY
When others’ joy is merely peering over the wall
Those who relish real experiences, good and bad
The taste of life’s disappointments is as bitter gall
But for the lucky few, the best they’ve ever had
Sometimes life can feel empty, like nothing at all
There is always surplus time and room to be sad
Perhaps by hitting the brakes the engine will stall
And for that sudden quiet one may even be glad
Hearing echoes of footsteps along an empty hall
This may be the first sign that one is going mad
One realises being alone can make one feel small
And would not have been mentioned in the Iliad
Life is not always about having a masquerade ball
Take a breath, ignore what may be the latest fad
Yet for most, the same routine each day can pall
Especially when finding oneself to be armour clad
Stupor of blind belief has caged soul in mind,
bemused by illusions, all self-created,
making us flounder about, as do the blind,
hypnotised by scriptures, fully sedated.
God is packaged in all colours and sizes
but know only the pure heart realises,
who in truth God is, as dweller of our heart,
who when He leaves, our life force too will depart.
Happy Days
Each is given breath, above soil, toil and glory;
mouths expel a tirade,behind a masquerade.
Each born pure in heart, soon shattered;
broken jagged pieces maybe scattered.
Each feels the beats hidden deep inside;
It struggles to love, but rages! against tears cried.
Each supplied with both organs, and need;
at the exhausted moment, emitting seed.
Each with eyes, unable to detect lies;
a tongue its whip sting, able to chastise.
Each is not supplied in rubies and gold;
a fool realises, in late life now is to olde.
Each foot step trudge, to the hole in soil;
hazily remembers the glory, not the toil.
Happy days indeed !
COGITO ERGO SUM
I think, therefore I am
Cogito Ergo Sum
As in Latin it’s said
But I’m not a linguist
My headache feels like lead
I think, therefore I am
And my brain tells me so
Am I defined by thought
My neurons are firing
But may still come to naught
I think, therefore I am
So said Rene Descartes
It’s his first principle
Mankind realises
And is invincible
I think, therefore I am
Basics of existence
This is fundamental
But a French perspective
He was continental
A slight comic gust
as vivid autumn colour
turns laughing dervish
we sense the quasi-winter
prelude to Halloween fare
Back to school urchins
scream with joy to spite cold snaps
Christmas edging close
in a mock funfair caper
summer’s graceful baton pass
Cherub-faced siblings
across the age span feel this
charge of plunging ice
rimmed weather front but
twinkling spirits reign
To shiver is the
ultimate release when one
realises what
golden opportunities
this autumn season offers ?
Tonight the stars shine in a way that is devastating
Because they are the cursor blinking steady on my screen
The inky background the cursed shine lays upon
Steals the very words from my fingertips
This act of thievery expands full throttle
Searching
Down
Down
Down
I choke on a vine of thorns trailing my vocal chords
As I feel my words vanish from my throat
My tongue is still tangled from the last robbery
When the vibrations fell flat off the percussion in my ear
I don't think my thief realises it was an offering for them
I hope the Universe deems this a good offering
And I hope the Sky does not target your brilliance next
A smile painted on, hair removed from my chin.
Another day of pretence about to begin.
False interest in the latest fashions and trends.
Fabrication of engagement to allow ends to meet ends.
Each contrived interaction wished quickly away.
Although nobody realises, as I act through my day.
Conversations conducted with unwitting stealth.
Insofar as I struggle to distinguish 'me' from myself.
An identity distorted a strain on my morals.
Struggling to navigate life's insignificant quarrels.
Dismissive remarks, I've had a day and a life full.
As insults fire from your tongue like a bolt-action rifle.
Diffused with humour and previously learned guidance.
The gap between who I was and who I am significantly widens.
The question 'who am I?' continues to stop and then start.
It can only be answered with 'what stories am I a part?'.
Like a chameleon meandering, transient through the day.
Depending on the act, and the part that I play.
I buy this computer magazine
Designed for idiots like me;
It’s there in the index page –
Essential downloads free.
I follow each instruction faithfully
Essentially ensuring not to mix it,
Then I phone my elder son
And he comes round to fix it.
He mutters as he struggles
It seems to take all night
But fingers crossed, at last
Its up and running right.
He glares with mild exasperation
Says, dad promise you’ll not try
To do this again, but realises
I don’t quite meet his eye.
I love my little computer
Its gives me so much fun
Each finished project making
Me glow with a job well done.
It runs oh so smoothly
It fills me with delight.
I run my little computer
Nearly every single night;
Then I buy this computer magazine
That’s designed for idiots like me
And it’s full of essential downloads
And every one is free …………
liquid light crystallises
vaporises when realises
it is in deep ambedo trance
so chooses to alter circumstance
by surfing the very edge of the void
without being by lower mind decoyed
thus both manifest and unmanifest
earth life jest love drenched fest
free from desire and aversion
renewing bliss immersion
12-December-2022
My thoughts do not stray.
Too far away
From the Russian war
My thinking isn't always correct,
I've mentioned this before,
I am an old lady
Wrinkled, aged and grey
Even though I'm ancient
I am still free to have my say
What are we talking about,
Ukraine's are not at war,
These people were satisfied
With how they lived before,
That was until President Putin
Putting his boot in.
And started to INVADE
Ukraine
He was on a private crusade
The like of which,
We never want to see again,
Putin does not know the score
The Russians may think they are at war,
But the World realises,
On this occasion,
It's a RUSSIAN INVASION.
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