To use the strength of anger to create

True love or hate, not sentimental gush
Are feelings that can energise and warm.
The words on birthday cards seem much too sweet
No rushing  love ; no hatred or hot fear,

To use the strength of anger to create
A book or child if we are blessed with mate.
Far better this than killing for release
Which cuts away the simple growth of peace.

Sentiment is cruel and perverse.
Claims to love but its brief is too terse.
Under sugared words we find dark rage
So hesitate before we turn the page

Hit the ball of life with all your strength.
For our  life is not measured by  its length

Carnation,orchid ,daffodil and rose.

How softly sweetly,gently flowers pose

Carnation,orchid ,daffodil and rose.
Their intricate petals form a shield
Yet bees with striped force shall make them yield.
Appearances, both natural and contrived,
Mixed with the wiles of human nature thrive.
As, knowing not, we pluck the apple rare
And bite its flesh,with teeth we have to bare.
We too deceive the innocent who pass
Not seeing watchers hid behind the glass.
The windows break,the deep earth quakes;
Seized is the maiden ,he  her virtue takes.
Beneath the surface,force and fierceness thrive.
What fearsome, burning God enjoys our lives?

Mo Farah Facebook entry

On 1st January this year, Her Majesty The Queen made me a Knight of the Realm. On 27th January, President Donald Trump seems to have made me an alien.

I am a British citizen who has lived in America for the past six years – working hard, contributing to society, paying my taxes and bringing up our four children in the place they now call home. Now, me and many others like me are being told that we may not be welcome. It’s deeply troubling that I will have to tell my children that Daddy might not be able to come home – to explain why the President has introduced a policy that comes from a place of ignorance and prejudice.

I was welcomed into Britain from Somalia at eight years old and given the chance to succeed and realise my dreams. I have been proud to represent my country, win medals for the British people and receive the greatest honour of a knighthood. My story is an example of what can happen when you follow polices of compassion and understanding, not hate and isolation.

Force unwithstood

A  wonderful word is coercion.
On it ,I cast no aspersions.
But to coerce is not good,
Force unwithstood
Never grew much but nasturtiums.


Sometimes our will is a force,
But virtue can’t come just by choice.
Like a flower from a seed
Our virtues we breed
As we listen for that still,little voice.

In school, we were given an impression
That knowledge implies good decisions;
So we learned   virtues and vice
The wrong and  the  nice
The existence of hell as a prison.


Believing that terror is a good,
They frightened us with their cold blood
In the Confessional we shivered;
And the wood round us quivered
They’d have tortured us more if they could.

So this education itself was a vice.
The nuns and the priests hit us twice
Once in the class
And again during Mass
Where we wondered if the Wafer was Christ.

And having this question in mind
Was a sin of a serious kind
We sinned against Faith
That delicate Wraith
So no personal truths could we find

I have found God in the depths
Where with kindness he surrounds those who’ve wept
But he makes no demands
As his Love understands
To the paths of our own truths we’ve kept

I see that Satan’s lighting his cigar

Where were we when God fled from the world?
Where was Jesus Christ., the only son?
Where were we ,when fearsome words were hurled?
Don’t blame  refugees, for Christ was one


Where was truth before Election day?
Where was heart when  Donald Trump came in?
An Empire blinded to its own decay
A President heard raving from day one.


Ok ,you hate the Clintonesque elites…..
But who has jumped cross this dangerous gap?
Things done from resentment  are not sweet
And truth will hit us all with  dangerous slap


We cannot go back now, we’ve come too far
 I see that  Satan’s lighting his cigar




Cor blimey

There were two left shoes and both were black
I could not wear either on my right foot.
So I went upstairs and moved my stuff!
I found their partners soon enough.
But, where did I put the two left shoes?
Oh, cor lummy, it’s bad news!
I can’t go out and I can’t go in.
I’m sitting outside in the wheelie bin.
I think I’ll  leave these right ones there
Then I’ll see the others rolling down the stairs!
My shoes are unfaithful I declare.
They refuse to settle and be a pair.
The left ones scheme and the right ones run.
Ain’t real life such glorious fun?


noun: doubt; plural noun: doubts
  1. 1.
    a feeling of uncertainty or lack of conviction.
    “some doubt has been cast upon the authenticity of this account”
    synonyms: uncertainty, lack of certainty, unsureness, indecision, hesitation, hesitancy, dubiousness, suspicion, confusion;More

verb: doubt; 3rd person present: doubts; past tense: doubted; past participle: doubted; gerund or present participle: doubting
  1. 1.
    feel uncertain about.
    “I doubt my ability to do the job”
    • question the truth or fact of (something).
      “who can doubt the value and necessity of these services?”
      synonyms: think something unlikely, have (one’s) doubts about, question, query, be dubious, lack conviction, have reservations about

      “I doubt whether he will come”
      antonyms: be confident
    • disbelieve or lack faith in (someone).
      “I have no reason to doubt him”
      synonyms: disbelieve, distrust, mistrust, suspect, lack confidence in, have doubts about, be suspicious of, have suspicions about, have misgivings about, feel uneasy about, feel apprehensive about, call into question, cast doubt on, query, question, challenge, dispute, have reservations about;

      “they did not doubt my story”
      antonyms: trust
    • feel uncertain, especially about one’s religious beliefs.
      synonyms: be undecided, have doubts, be irresolute, be hesitant, be tentative, be ambivalent, be divided, be doubtful, be unsure, be uncertain, be in two minds, hesitate, shilly-shally, waver, falter, vacillate, dither, demur;

      informalsit on the fence
      “stop doubting and believe more firmly!”
      antonyms: believe
  2. 2.
    fear; be afraid.
    “I doubt not any ones contradicting this Journal”
Middle English: from Old French doute (noun), douter (verb), from Latin dubitare ‘hesitate’, from dubius ‘doubtful’ (see dubious).

Why is free verse so popular?




“Free verse is a form of nonmetrical writing that takes pleasure in a various and emergent verbal music. “As regarding rhythm,” Ezra Pound writes in “A Retrospect” (1918): “to compose in the sequence of the musical phrase, not in sequence of a metronome.” Free verse is often inspired by the cadence—the natural rhythm, the inner tune—of spoken language. It pos­sesses visual form and uses the graphic line to differentiate itself from prose. “The words are more poised than in prose,” Louis MacNeice states in Modern Poetry (1938); “they are not only, like the words in typical prose, contributory to the total effect, but are to be attended to, in passing, for their own sake.” The dream of free verse: an originary verbal music for every poem. Jorge Luis Borges explains: “Beyond its rhythm, the typographical appearance of free verse informs the reader that what lies in store for him is not informa­tion or reasoning but emotion.””

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