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Daily Archives: December 12, 2015

I Will… Against All The Odds

gallop

I will keep flying and singing

Despite subjugation and wings clipping

I will keep up advancement

Despite any ignoble impediment

I will keep to my principles

Despite bigotry and disapprovals

I will keep on preaching peace

Despite intolerance and violent tendencies

I will move for change and make a difference

Despite blind hatred, rage and indifference

I will keep my chin up and never give up

And enjoy freedom like riding at a gallop

© Chaouki M’kaddem

September 12th, 2014

The Thin looking Ghost

123456789One night I met a ghost.

He was looking for a friendly host. 

I said,’ You are looking very thin,

you had better come on in.’ 

‘Would you like a piece of toast?’ 

He replied, ‘I’d rather have a Sunday roast’ 

So there we sat, trying to get him fat, 

a three hundred-year-old ghost called Nat. 

We had a beer and he came over queer, 

and he quickly began to disappear. 

So that was the end of Nat; 

who never did get fat!

 
 
By Simon Icke, 

Footnote: I don’t believe in ghost but my father once said I bet our Simon will never write a poem about ghosts as he doesn’t believe in them. So after he had gone to bed I wrote this amusing little poem just for my dad. It made him smile when he read it. So this is dedicated to his memory: George R. Icke 1914-2000. Who was born in Salford & lived most of his life in Little Hulton, Salford)

 

Social mobility

 
 
I bought her a scooter
She thought it would suit her
I spoke to her suitor
He told me to shoot her
 
I purchased a shooter
He said ‘would I shoot her’?
I’d much sooner sue her
Than shoot and then slew her
 
I sold on the scooter
To Stu her lame suitor
And what of the shooter?
Inside of my shoe sir.
 
Violence and shooters
Old age and scooters
Suture
Future.
 
 
Stephen Holloway
 
• What can I say – what about sorry?  It makes me laugh out loud and I wrote it!
Seriously though – there is a message in there somewhere.

The Rain

 


The wet shiny glistening droplets
Appear like jewels

Sprinkled on the window pane
Rapping like a thousand birds saying,
‘listen to the rain’
Across the sky a formation

Of colours start to form,
Building up to a rainbow
The aftermath of storm,
Behind a distant cloud

Peeps the round globe of the sun
Sending heat drying the earth,
Also tear-like droplets are sent

flushing, like washing life’s troubles

To ground then to grate,
For that is all they are worth.

 

Sandra Cameron

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