we’re all doomed,

we’ll be giving old nick a run for his money.

the worse he gets the more we descend into ignorance of humanity.

when did we decide that being a decent human was a bad thing?

not as bad as being poor though, we don’t vote to be poor, do we?

so why are we voting for people who demonize poverty,

making it the sole reason for our poverty, the lie they always tell us, it’s our fault we’re poor.

we’re stupid, lazy, disabled, pointless, worthless, trash.

thank you old Johnson, you’re son’s a real bitch,

thank Eton and Oxbridge, the developers of power.

their methods are faultless, they have honed it for a long time.

their motives are lacking in any nuance of true compassion.

their philosophy so twisted it’s lost the meaning of truth.

they fly by the winds of Johnsons and Trumps,

a joke by their names disguises their ultimate truth.

they are the same in what they do when they experience real suffering,

they who pray for riches beyond the riches of humans,

they lash out at the demons they chanted so loud,

through stealing and deceiving those they have lied to,

they’re clever, old boys clubs, they keep them away,

the them that I meant was the them that ain’t us, you know “them”.

we all have them, they’re deceivers and shadows of truths,

dreamt as a child to bring comfort and love,

to the adult bereaved of much of their wealth.

the narratives our devils feed into us,

are no more than appearance to mind.

no more than a concept, brainwave, or label,

simply given by our minds to make sense of forever,

as far as I can see, goes on forever,

may as well if I travelled even at the speed of light,

I would never get there, so it would be a forever flight.

when we look out as far as we can see, it’s keeps getting bigger,

and bigger than we can ever imagine,

but it looks true, so our imaginations are too limited to comprehend the truth?

so why bother trying to understand the whole truth, maybe understanding is also insufficient to realising this truth?

this is the wisdom that I look to, so brilliant it blinds me to bow.

it carries me safely through the worst of hells,

simply recognise it’s truth and it alter it’s state from low to high

like steam flying off into the sky.

not too much steam, I like rain,

sometimes I imagine what it would be like without rain?

it’s not a good thought, we need to question it.

truth to power, what does this really mean?

is it the rantings of some oppressed mad people?

is the truth that power sees to be the only truth,

the poor are poor because the rich are rich.

for it to be otherwise would mean the rich get poorer,

is it right though that some people have more money than sense?

they seem so comfortable in knowing they’ve got all the wealth,

while people are dying for this wealth day after day,

hour after hour, and precious minutes by minutes.

their lives slipping away by the ignorance of power,

the rich get rich

the poor are more poor.

“…so what!” some may say, they’ll always be rich, and they’ll always be poor.

but why does this have to be the truth?

it seems false in the knowing of science’s evidence,

that how we see it seems to effect the thing we’re seeing.

a holographic universe projected by mind,

whatever you call it, it’s just that it’s the mind.

all concepts arise first in the depths of our minds,

always arising, sometimes staying, but soon to be gone.

every thought, word and action is only part of the story,

if our thoughts keep vanishing to the darkness of forgetting,

why do we keep trying to hold that which is destined to die?

our body, for one, is destined to die.

we try to ignore this biggest fact we all share,

an inconvenient truth we all take ownership of.

why is this so inconvenient to one who has nothing,

those that give up their lives to fight for others,

their devotion itself is something to wonder,

but is it devoted to compassion and wisdom?

not my place to say who is guilty or not,

no-ones to really knows but, great Scott?

how their phrases can turn the weakest with ease,

who are they, again it comes in like waves.

the frequency bouncing at 50 something and something,

doesn’t matter,

the dead cat that’s thrown in there, as always,

this cat will be the biggest attraction,

it’s shite will become our biggest distraction.

why a dead cat, surely a dead human is what was meant?

why would old Johnson and Trump like their goodly wrecked cats?

it’s their con, their trick, their entitled gobshitey,

total bollox or course, that’s their power.

their power to gob shite into our homes,

through their client journalists they spin their spittle into the webs of our lives,

ensnaring us in our own detritus,

fancy that a new subscriber, get off my page!

you’re not welcome to free thinking, you’re damning the kind,

you who are right!

but those that have stayed are part of the family,

humanity and all living things, grew together over billions of years.

now humanity has decided the rest are just toys,

to be mined, manufactured, and influenced by the destroyers of the earth.

we listen for truth, kind truth, compassionate truth,

this is how we learn to be free from the bonds of owing the rich.

now be off with you, cheeky scamp, no more of you’re lies,

a bit of a smack some say might sort him out.

I disagree with this thought for anyone I know,

you wouldn’t want me to smack anyone, I will probably hurt me more than anyone else.

watch the head twisters fly off,

see the fountains of old Wayne,

if that’s your thing, that’s fine,

I do not condone violence, it’s illogical to those that understand great wisdom.

so I always pray that the wolves that bark at my doors,

are just insects attempting to hide in the light,

where they’re safe and secure from all their predators.

just like us when we evolved to realise we evolve,

even the word itself had to develop and grow.

I welcome the wisdom that hears clearly the true words that the kindest speak,

the comfort of knowing you’re protected from harm,

the welcoming of more friends, something that will always be hard for some.

the world leaves scars on the hearts of those that are punched down,

make it a joke if you wish, it’s what you want to hear?

the irony of a man who has millions of quid,

pulling apart a group of downtrodden fools.

what’s so bad about this, did we not get the irony?

of course we did, we just didn’t think it was particularly funny.

small buffoon, little man, not worthy to lick shit from our boots.

lay down there, in the filth that you made from your hobbies.

a real poor person has no wealth in the wisdom department,

without the wealth of the wise, how do we judge the true worth anything?

whatever we believe is all great, I suppose,

it just concerns me that we’re allowing shit stirrers to stir our milk.

first Thatcher says children get no more milk,

now it’s far more than our milk they want to steal from the people,

please be advised, that to panic is exactly what demons want.

so don’t panic, just be patient,

vote for the wisest, the kindest, the strongest of all.

if not the heroes, then maybe the parents at the village hall?

giving thanks to those people who learned to take care,

they became the ones who helped get us here.

it wasn’t just one other, it was everyone, everything.

from our mother, to our father, and to the most delicate of life,

no beings can be excluded from this.

this comes from science and evidence that we see in the world,

the universe seems to sing of it’s perfection for the existence of us.

it couldn’t try harder to get us to realise,

we’re bodies may be small, believe mind’s limitless potential,

please be more that the sum of your bodily parts,

I can’t deal with the limits of such mortal bones.

– Serenity Tsamcho, 2022

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