Wayward Thoughts

Quod erat demonstrandum

Ode to a media personage

Look at you
You cunning deceiver
Artful falsifier
Sharp-witted monstrosity of the airwaves
Choosing to question
Whose answers you already know
Questions flow from your lips
Like drivel
From the mouth of a circus monkey
Trained to make purposive mistakes
And so the show goes on
As you post the trash
For the sake of your own political agenda
Not in interrogation
But prompting
The messages you desire
Distortion of the truth
Support for the untrustworthy
False scruples for the unscrupulous
Sham ethics for the unethical
And repute
For the disreputable
But note this now
The themes of your memes
Define your reputation
As it lingers around the dark corners of deceit
That will haunt you
As you fade inevitably into ignominy

Voice In The Wilderness

Racist icon
Babbling away
With your non sequiturs
Gathering support
From the small minority
Just enough to give you a place
In the parliament of fools
How you rant
With your false allusions
That are really illusions
Whose crime is to be foreign
Who take away the jobs
Of the righteous others
Black people
Who divide the nation
With their pleas
To be treated as human
I hear you
As you speak on air to your fascist allies
Raving on
In your immoral quest for power
Ah yes
You seem successful
You, sheltering
Behind your democratic rights to speak
And yet I know
That what you say
Will eventually fade to silence
Simply because of what you are


That sounds interesting
A tale of woe
That gullible people like to know
A fairy tale told by mortals
Not pixies
A calculated deception
Designed to get attention
And make money
For the wanton perpetrators
Born of imagination
Served up with vehement audacity
To promote a sinister cause
For the credulous to believe
And act upon
In devious calculated ways
As a profitable outcome for the conspirer
So lies are dressed to kill
To warp reality
As a means to bring gold
To the cunning teller of fairytales
The scheming fabulist
The twister of reality
Dipped in the sauce of perjury
Until wars start
Rebellion haunts the streets
And chaos
Harnesses the power of evil-doers
As justice dies a pitiful death

Play On Midas

Sport it is a blessed thing
From Pole to Pole
But overcome
By entrepreneurs
It plays a questionable role
Money is now the reason
Sporting heroes play the game
Profit is thus the consequence
Of all your sporting fame
So look at that if you please
Lucre is the stupor
In the war we call competition
That motivates each trooper
Victory is essential
For investment to find fruition
Winning builds your balance
In the thing we call a bank
While loosing is disaster
That leaves your pay a blank
Come on down to the pitch
Where heroic deeds are done
So that corporate giants grow rich
While the obeisant mob has fun
But remember, yes remember
While the moguls count their cheques
Ordinary folk like you and me
Are riven by the hex

Tossing And Turning

I had a dream the other night
Everything was restless
What a powerful revelation!
The way dreams are
By your semi-conscious state
Frightening too
In the nature of an exposé
Spectres tumbled out of my mind
An identity
Suddenly came into view
In that chilling vision
A monster revealed
Cunning, clever
Calmly pitiless
He writes tales to start a deadly war
Influences political decisions
For his own financial gain
And infiltrates all lives with lies
For his own ends
What a monstrous entity this was!
In that torment of my sleep
Grievance oozed out of that incubus
Until I awakened
How glad I was it was but a dream!


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