mandatory volunteer

two important people promoting some incomprehensible scrawls on a shed bar and café gift shop.

socially sanctioned slavery,

when they ask for that extra hour,

they take your labours,

sell them for favours,

but none for owners of those souls.

that nurse that stays to hold our hand,

the worn out worker,

threatened with benefits torture,

stolen from their lives,

the joy beyond just survive,

tracked all their time,

mistrust becomes sublime,

a toxic gas,

mouthed from their ass.

the rotting decay,

of generosity’s last day,

the kindness forbidden,

muted into submission.

people must protest,

just not here, guest,

the advantages so elusive,

the beliefs so obtrusive,

that church of the state

has nothing more to say.

failed teachers,

freedom snatchers,

stay in the past,

forever be remembered

as the nazis we cast.

be buried by shit

thrown at virtue,

the ignorant beliefs

that choke and curse you.

the out there that’s dragging you down,

everyone else who’s around.

without judging the difference,

be wiser in our instance,

that the next person you meet

is just another being human.

© Copyright 2022, IsatTM

no right or left

a simple painting of a number 9 relaxing on some grass

just the old joke,

the ones that have

and the ones that hain’t,

don’t matter what wing you swing,

are you good to those

that do good come what may?

rejoice in the care givers,

shower them with gifts,

give them a fair wage

for the lives they save.

fully funded,

people owned,

renationalised health service.

the tories fear the cost to their peer,

the rich man,

the landlord,

the proverbial fat cat.

it ain’t foreigners that I fear,

it’s that government up there,

their behaviour is illegal,

without mandate to govern,

any of us here.

they decree that we need poverty,

while they scrimp on necessity,

take bribes from the donors,

give vip contracts for their coffers.

complicit in this are all mps

that say nothing,

avoid the spotlight,

distract with jungle bollocks,

that’ll keep ’em quiet.

all the time they sell our health

down the creek,

along with our waste

straight out into the sea.

we demand an election,

the echo chamber shouts out,

no response from the elite,

it just didn’t have the clout.

maybe I will died in westminster’s square,

disgust the snowflakes

that can’t begin to bare,

that some will die by their command,

whether willing soldiers,

or cold and hungry old nan.

for want of a way,

just to say,

please, no matter how you see it,

the state of the tory party

is terminally shit,

they no longer govern,

they rule,

they show us cruelty,

they make us small.

if you wish to be free,

stop tolerating the ignorance,

the billionaires fowl fragrance,

bullingdon eton boy’s fall.

stop the repeated futility,

of voting for that inability,

the incompetent buffoon,

is only a leader to fools,

be better and listen

to all the suffering calls.

stop listening to the racists,

the fascists and the rapists,

the criminals in power,

the insurrectionist coward.

the one that lies so deep inside,

you refuse to admit the dupe did it,

the mop haired fake shyster,

grabbed your pussy

and made you liked it.

dear friend,

if I may,

just say,

you can now go away,

never to be seen again.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

don’t mone

a parody AI generated image of the Tory peer Michelle Mone

markets groan,

everyone falls down.

they’ve all gone,

yachting it off

into the sun.

tan so crisp,

crackling bits,

smallest feed tonight.

to them were all ants,

trying to get into their pants,

and touch their dough.

off with their hands,

the madman expands,

blocking sense along with him.

power is given,

when taken it’s prison,

bid this when it’s time to protest.

– InkeyString, 2022

the one that gave up

AI generated image of a unhappy person

the moment the thought hit,

that they’d been here before,

and it smells like bullshit.

this suffering cycle,

the constant rebirth

into old terf,

spunk festering old jerk.

liked to dress up like brook’s hitler,

count dracula and some other berks.

comedy as a political weapon,

be careful what you promote,

it imagines a reality

where the twist is the cist

that is used to poke.

take a peek at the code,

it’s a pattern I’m told,

replicatable stupidity

rejoiced by the fold.

break the constant sadness,

rejoice in others happiness,

be wise not to sneeze

without due attention

(..what about your pension..)

it would mean a lot, I plead.

on the ground,

looking up,

I see storm clouds heading down,

we might want to get umbrellas

the size of big fellas,

with arms all the way to their frowns.

I fear for our children’s future,

climate deniers can fuck right off,

I listen to scientists,

peer reviewed,

respected in their fields.

not grinning dick faced gobshites,

the ones on the telly,

the ones with their lips tight,

and their arses all smelly.

imagine voting for someone

cuz you hate the same things,

so lacking in social grace

you allow the death of a child

to be a joke to embrace!

foul odorous sore,

magnificent bore,

simply liars,

bankers whores.

it’s not for the people,

no tory in that pocket,

course not,

they’re dildos up the rich old fucks,

bad word sucks.

anyway, been here before,

and at best it’s a place,

at worst it’s hell.

so Tsamchö wishes for peace,

one that lasts for all,

without exception,

the blissful release,

the beautiful perfections.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

tabloids are too loud

AI generated image of a suited man dragging himself across a war zone

front pages just shout,

grief and hatred,

sex and pastries,

deformed faces

stare out of their spaces,

words seem to be there too,

low vocabulary is all that’s required,

so they’re simple and pleb wired,

keep ’em docile is greatly admired.

can’t control a country,

tories failure at practically everything,

make bad deals with the world,

but will never be held

responsible for domestic failure!

if you read this and murdoch holds his wins,

then the only failure was faith,

in the best a human can attain.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

don’t look behind you

AI generated image of a dark corridor wit a shadowy dog and mysterious creeper coming through a window

old tory goat,

the darkness that follows you

doesn’t feel guilt.

I can only watch as the snake

rounds the corner of your vision

before it finally takes.

be kinder,

be good for xmas,

everyday is heavenly business.

the iron bitch slap is coming,

like toilets running into rivers,

that falls on beaches and quivers.

a land mass growing from crap and faeces,

lies and trickery is all they know how to be.

the thing make things great,

had been shown to be a con,

a lie built on fantasy,

bullshit and fuckery.

I apologise in advance,

because round these parts,

we just call them cunts.

political cunts I should add,

as there’re other cunts that ain’t bad.

back to my point,

the shadows that follow,

are sanguine and hollow,

definitely life,

just so much less so.

they bring disease,

pestilence and pee,

the horsemen of the fucking hypocrisy!

not sure if it’s wisdom,

not judgement,

just criticism.

an opinion if you wish,

just taking the piss

out of someone’s political religion.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

compassionate evolution

AI generated image of the concept of compassionate evolution

the human animal is a sociopath,

selfish genetics according to some old faff.

always looking out for itself.

when it goes too far

psychopaths make a big scar

on the bodies of everyone else.

give them money,

give them power,

make you stare up their barrow.

stop paying them money,

stop giving them power,

they show no signs of compassion and empowerment.

because they’re rich?

because our brains are sick,

drowning in their mire.

how do we feed everyone?

bring back the balance,

the wisdom.

not the festering spores

that spurt from their stores,

consumerism is eating itself.

don’t panic,

there’s a way,

be patient and contemplate.

it’s not for all, I accept this,

and respect this view,

I will take that hit to my heartfelt wish,

but I guess I’m not really going anywhere.

I accept my bias,

the wisest,

the kindest

give to all.

if this offends you,

I will get my coat,

and leave you without any doubt,

thus I have read

don’t just believe what was said.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

a story of fascism

digital illustration of a character with empty eyes saying Doctor Bellend I presume

I’m not a historian,

just a dude with a degree,

in multiple disciplines,

and I watch a lot of people.

everything we inherit

from our ancestor’s credit

to the invaders that wield power,

was once nothing but an idea

in the twinkle

of some cunt’s eye.

just de-invent it.

just forget such a cruel,

inhumane habit.

if it’s not educated,

then we won’t know this,

it’s how the newspapers

manipulate us.

tell you their truth

according to rupert’s old johnson.

so powerful they can destroy

whole counties in a front page.

just opinion that’s all,

freedom of speech, you know.

if fact coincides

then their suing will arrive,

you’ll know I was telling the truth.

(..if not then I’m just an old fool..)

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

remember twitter

AI generated illustration parodying political campaigns

myspace livejournal tumblr

ruined by the idiot trumpeter

target the verified

for the privilege to be themselves

now full of bullshit

and far right prose

nothing but an echo chamber

of deluded neanderthals

drinking each others toxicity

from each other’s arseholes

was once a connection point

for the kind heart voiced

now lost on mastodon

discorded tribel activism

uncontrolled by elitism

it’s an extinction rebellion

watch as the culprits

boil in their effluence

one day they will say

sapiens were a mistake

now the diverse will take center stage

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

the holy brexit

AI generated painting of a warped British flag overlaid with a hammer and sickle, the EU or USA stars can been seen merging into the background

to the loyal leavers

I would like to pay respects,

not to your belief,

but your specs:

you believe we’re better off

not being warm in winter,

starving children

deprived of dinner?

that a child fleeing in fear,

deserves to drown off a pier!

this is not my people,

this is not us.

the government is not ours,

we were financially invaded by moscow.

thanks to brexit,

the depravity that just keeps taking.

started with blair courting favour over there,

gave putin the boostin’

they both shared.

not stopped by bush,

and the eu didn’t notice.

so here we are brits,

where are your bits?

your gumption,

your compassion,

your peculiar fashion?

paint our faces blue,

red and white too,

shout in english,

like americans do.

biden is old,

but he seems ok, I’m told,

it’s more about the democrats,

than who’s the president,

away with popularity politics.

all bollocks isn’t it.

in an ideal world

leaders are boring,

almost invisible,

rarely talking,

actively listening.

they just get the stuff done,

representing proportionally everyone.

brexits only benefit has been

the destruction of the tory regime,

now on show,

to the whole world,

taking the country as it goes.

so why is starmer so bad

with the numbers?

he wins by default,

sits back watching the tories implode,

taking the fucking country with them!

maybe I don’t understand the politics

of pillocks that don’t represent me,

but that’s my right,

freedom of speech

gbeebies screech.

the remoaners,

the ruiners by truth,

the one’s that told ’em

leaving was wrong,

they even had proof.

now it’s happening,

just as remoaner prophesied.

must be their fault,

all the lockdowns that saved us,

the vaccine rolled out

by medical science,

not boris!

he gave them your tax money,

they helped us,

we clapped them, buddy!

they ask for fair treatment,

tories still want to crush’em.

so the putin puppets

were persuaded

by rubles and footy palaces

to sell off our assets

for promises of big phalluses.

do you believe in the sunlit uplands?

the golden sunset of empire?

brexit was a trick,

smoke and mirrors

fait accomplete.

now let’s reclaim our land

from the tory bastards

that maggie birthed out,

let compassion guide us.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString