And Yet Still More


I once knew a man
Years ago
Long time passing
Who was treated very harshly by my peers
Maligned with abuse
Cast aside from the normality of endorsed existence
Into the isolation reserved for the guilty
Where even the virtuous fear to go
Lest they too are ostracised
Like a leper from the past
Decried by voices
That questioned his humanity
I met him once
In his prison of distrust
And noticed the pain in his eyes
When we spoke of the past
I leant towards him
To touch his shoulder with compassion
As all he had done
Was come from another country

Pandora Lives

A global leak of nearly 12 million documents,
dubbed the Pandora Papers, unlocks
the financial secrets of politicians and billionaires October 4, 2021

There you go
You shamefaced hangdog parasites
Basking in your vile iniquity
While we normal people
Meet the requirements of the morality
You despise
Look at you now
A pillar of civilisation
Successful beyond infinity
Treated as a divinity
So much lucre
You make Midas seem down and out
So much power
The whole world moves when you shout
I see you now
In the light of what you truly are
A disease that eats away
At the anatomy of our being
A plague like the Black Death
Because until recently
We have not known the cause
But hear this now
The box Pandora has found
Is a turning point of history
All those roads apparently not taken
By you depraved architects of secret villainy
Are now revealed
We, your victims, the honest ones
Will travel those boulevards and destroy them
With your own weapon of mass destruction
The money we save
By making you pay your bills

The Power Of Recollections

I am old now
Confined indoors
By the crumbling of the body’s bits and pieces
That promote mobility
Never experience the sun these days
Lean against the wind
Or shelter from the rain
Just sit on my chair at my computer
Wandering around the internet
Looking for distractions
From the decrepitude of age
Writing the odd poem occasionally
That’s life when you have excessive maturity
And yet there is one thing
That stands like a beacon in the night
That stops you
Longing to escape with the Dark Angel…
It is memory
That is mine until amnesia sets in
I own it totally
No one on earth can take it from me
Dispute it yes, but steal it no
I was there when storms were exciting things
Not national catastrophes
I saw bushfires as tidy-ups by Nature
Not holocausts
I remember when dams were always full
And floods were rare events
Reminiscence is a sweet thing now
For the air in my childhood was pure
The moon danced lovingly on the waters of the bay
Where more fish were swimming in peace
We played Cowboys and Indians
Where the bush hadn’t been cut down to build high rise
And you climbed still-standing trees to catch cicadas
All in salad days that never really leave you


How devious facts are
Hiding themselves
Behind the lies and pretence of important people
Fascinating, isn’t it?
The way
Leaders gain power with subterfuge
Masquerading as something other than what they really are
Concealing the truth
With clichés like freedom, security, and things we hold dear
And all the while
Planning the obverse
Carrying out the will of powerful backroom personages
Whose names we never know
That is usually why
Leaders on the sea of reform afloat
Are unduly careful not to rock the boat
Always there is impediment to the change
As vested interest limits the power to rearrange
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity
Peace, Land and Bread
Liberty or Death
How the dreams have echoed down the ages
Holding sway for a time
Before yielding to the tyranny of greed
And ill-gained power of successful subversives
Depressing isn’t it?
But is all lost?
What can we do to change the way of things?
Why, tell the story
Education is the only ultimate solution
History is the golden source of truth
And therein lies the reality of revolution


How many lies must a politician tell
Before he reaches the top?
Why is deception the usual practice
And when will it ever stop?
The answer my friend is written in the sky
In words only fools deny

How many years must justice fail
As the rich exploit the poor?
How much longer will lawyers earn rewards
Helping criminals within the law?
The answer my friend is written in the sky
In words only fools deny

Who tells the stories hiding true facts
That make people go to war?
Why do the affluent weapon makers
Promote this tragic flaw?
The answer my friend is written in the sky
In words only fools deny

Now tell me this please why does triumph
Arrive when you bend the rules?
Do our masters in life depend for success
On the gullibility of fools?
The answer my friend is written in the sky
In words only fools deny

O can there be a time more important than now
For the vault of heaven to speak?
Are not responses to life-and-death questions
What we must for ever seek?
The answer my friend will be written on our graves
If we choose to remain fraudsters’ slaves


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