Lady Libertys’ Shame

Featured

Life, liberty and justice for all

Except for those that 45 wants behind a wall

Bring me your poor, your tired, your huddled masses

I’ll keep them dirty and sick, confiscate all their assets

Locked in the dark, ripped from Sons and Daughters

Deny all their right to food and to water

Lady liberty does not stand for this

She sees you and she’s tired of all your bullshit

Freedom from the Crown was fought for in your history

So how can you persecute these people? It’s a mystery

Mr President you do not get to pick and choose

Those that you deem worthy to raise the Red, White and Blue

So choose to make your mark as the President unkind

While Liberty joins her sister Justice, and wishes she was blind.

 

 

This was written on July 4th – American Independence Day. I hung off posting it because I didn’t want to cause offense. However, I think whatever we write, whatever we post always has to be personal and relevant to us as writers. And that in itself makes it likely to cause upset to someone else who may not share our own views, regardless of the subject matter.  Also, I have had some quite upsetting news regarding a family member this morning, which has brought the message home that life is too short to spend time worrying about other peoples perceptions. 

LIFE IS SHORT.

We each need to live it in our own way, and if we see something that goes against all human decency and morality, we should most definitely stand and raise our voices against it!

 

 

Advertisements

Are We Going to Hell in a Hand Brexit?

28 August 2019.

All hell has broken loose in the UK.

Although to be honest, the walls between hell and reality have been getting increasingly fragile and more unstable since the whole idea of leaving the EU was first proposed.

23 June 2016.


I get why a whole swathe of the population think that it’s a good idea, I do. I’ve often said myself that in certain aspects Britain is treated like Europes least loved relative. It has seemed, on occasion, like a very one sided relationship.

But I also wholeheartedly believe that we are nothing without membership of the European Common Market. We are not a big enough contender on a global scale to be able to compete on our own in matters of Trade and Industry: not since Margaret Thatchers  denationalization of all of our major industries in the 80s.


Also, I don’t think that the leave campaign did enough to assure the British electorate of the final picture following any departure which may occur. All it said was “We will be stronger on our own”; “We need to take back British rule for British people”; “We will have an extra £350 million to give to the NHS each week if we leave the EU”.

Which of course is why people voted Yes to severing ties to our continental cousins, isn’t it?

People need to believe that the future is going to be better than the present reality, whatever that reality happens to be. It’s what we strive for in our own everyday lives, for our own families future.

How much better for all concerned to feel that the Government of our tiny island nation also wants the same!


And what has happened to that magical £350 million per week in the three years since Boris Johnson painted it on the side of a bus, and drove around the country to garner the votes his party needed?

As of April this year, Brexit had COST the UK £66 BILLION!

Predictably enough , the value of the Pound dropped – instantly making the Euro a much stronger currency. Investments into UK concerns from abroad have all but dried up in the uncertainty. Already, vital supplies of life saving and life enhancing drugs and medical supplies are being affected, as the chain from the EU and other nations breaks down.


Several independent reports have found that parts of the Brexit campaign were illegal, with personal data being tampered with and private investments found to have been brought from Russia, and not the UK as claimed.

To my mind, this should invalidate the whole show: it should be scrapped for being unconstitutional at the very least.

And yet, somehow, it has been allowed to continue. Like a steam engine with no breaks roaring down a mountainside until it’s inevitable crash at the bottom!


And today – Mr Johnson asked Her Majesty to suspend parliament until 17 days before the Brexit deadline of 31st October. A deadline which he says, he is determined that we should make!

As far as I can make out, this means that ALL aspects of Brexit will now be in his hands, and his hands alone. None of the other party leaders, or members of parliament will be able to vote on anything, or even to enter into discussions about it!

I get the feeling that Mr Johnson has read the constitution, seen that a Democracy is defined as “1 man, 1 vote”, and has made the decision that he is that 1 man!


Since he became the leader of the Conservative party – a position he was NOT elected to by the British public – he has put together a cabinet of people who have consistently voted against issues like LGBTQ rights, disability benefits, social housing rights etc. This is NOT a cabinet which is representative of the population at all, in my view! Also – tellingly – he was very vocal about how unethical it was to expect that the country should be presided over by an unelected PM when Gordon Brown took over the role from Tony Blair in 2007. The irony has clearly been lost on him 12 years down the line!


In all honesty, I don’t believe that any of the parties have the whole idea of a final Brexit plan in place yet. Sadly, it seems to me that Mr Johnson has decided that leaving the EU with “No Deal” is the only way forward. Which I suspect is why he requested this prorogue in the first place.

And really – look at the word. PRO ROGUE.

How are we supposed to trust anything that comes of an event with a name that reads “Expert Scoundrel”?


I want to have hope for the future. I want to believe in the system of democracy. I want to know that we can trust the man who is supposed to lead the country to do his best for ALL of us, and not just for his friends.

So far, every word that has come out of his mouth has been proven to be an abject fallacy, sometimes before he has even finished a sentence!


Halloween used to be my favourite time of year.

I am honestly dreading it this year. Brexit Day.

But it’s starting to feel a bit like Edgar Allan Poes “Tell Tale Heart”; the suspense building up with each second that passes.

Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock.


31 October 2019.

Pray that we never reach the Ninth Circle of Hell – which was, according to Dante – Treachery.

Mind you – at least if we have to go there, we can all travel using our new Blue British Passports – produced in France!

 

 

 

Obviously, there are going to be people out there who disagree with my own views on this; this is fine. In fact it’s more than fine. We should all be allowed our own views. That is – in my mind – democracy in action at it’s base level. I welcome comments on all manner of things, love a sensible, well fought out discussion between people – of a like mind to my own or not. I hate it when people resort to name calling though, when you put forward an idea that doesn’t gel with their own. I have been called a Marxist over on FB today; a name which I have chosen not to respond to. As I say, others are entitled to their own opinion. 

However, I refuse to believe that the system which should have been behind Marxism isn’t a good one; it was supposed to lead to equality across the board after all. Like all forms of Government though, where there was a good idea initially, things got lost in translation and it became something that it should never have been. 

I’ve woken up this morning, and that clock is still ticking – and it’s getting louder ;

Tick Tock; Tick Tock; TICK TOCK ….

 

 

The Oxbridge Book of British Politics

That’s not my PM!

It’s hair is too floppy

It doesn’t speak properly

The words are too sloppy;

That’s not my PM!

It’s smug & it’s greedy

Signed against help

For the sick & the needy.

That’s not my PM!

It’s full of confusion

Tries to get it’s own way

With it’s constant delusions;

That’s not my PM!

Told lies to force Brexit

But I can see through

This PM full of bullshit!

 

More than a little peeved at the results of this mornings press conference. Not surprised though. Very much resigned to things sliding further downhill now, and at a much quicker pace than before.  So this happened, in the style of all of those wonderful board books from Osborne Press for parliament (pre-schoolers! I meant pre – schoolers!)

 

EDIT : my lovely friend Kirstie (https://crystallisingdream.wordpress.com/), just read this as “Bullshit Politics”. I think she has the right of it to be honest … 

 

 

The Tower

Martyred.

Against

Reason

You were once

Maligned.

Angelic

Grace was

Denied to her whom he

Adored. It took six hundred years before her

Life was

Explored. Her

Name now praised amongst

Evangelicals and secular scholars alike.

 

Written July 22nd 2019. The 3rd Feast Day of St Mary Magdalene since Pope Francis declared it in 2016. Image is of Mary Magdalene, and is attributed to the Velasquez Circle.

Apollo 11 Means Nothing to 45

“That’s one small step for man – one giant leap for mankind”

And yet nothing really seems to change, man has become so blind

To poverty and racist Tweets, lets keep Women in their place

In the bedroom, not the boardroom – it would help us to save face

And your body is not yours to own, you must know that by now

Dominion over you  is ours, we’ll achieve it anyhow

By taking away medicare, so you can’t afford the pill

We’ll close down all the womens’ clinics, there will be no “voice for Jill”

And if your skin isn’t purest white, or a neon shade of orange

Beware that all words in your ears will truly sound abhorrent

“Go back to where you came from!” will pour forth from every lip

Be thankful that 1865 took away our whips

For we would use them, given half a chance, on backs of every colour

We wouldn’t mind if you were someones’ child or someones’ Mother

Make America Great Again resounds across the land

Pennsylvania Avenue home to a TV businessman

Climate change means rivers run drier than they have in years

But don’t worry (he thinks it isn’t real) we’ll refill them with the tears

Of those who had such hopes , to live the American Dream

Those dreams have fast turned nightmare – now all we hear are screams

 

this one was inspired by todays’ Google Doodle, in honour of the 50th Anniversary of the Apollo 11 mission which landed man on the lunar surface for the first time.  I have always loved Neil Armstrongs’ sound byte – as used here in the opening line. But lately, each time I hear it, something in me screams. “Man” kind! One small step for “man”.  Yes – I know that it is meant as a species epithet, not as a gender based one – but with the news headlines screaming out the way they do on a daily basis, my mind has picked out the word and segregated it! 

BTW – the line “voice for Jill” is a subtle nod to Amanda Palmers “voicemail for Jill”, her song about the thoughts surrounding abortion. If you haven’t heard it, I would recommend that you check it out. It’s heartbreaking and thought provoking. And completely wonderful …

 

 

Dust & Ashes

I used to think what I wanted from you was tenderness

Understanding beyond any I had been given before.

A shoulder when I needed one

A hand to hold when I was losing my way.

And so you gave me that, for a while.

And I was your mirror image, reflecting everything back to you.

Then I thought what I wanted from you was a gentle kiss.

Butterfly soft and breath hot on my furrowed brow at the end of a long day.

A convenient way of transferring feelings without pressure.

A way of saying “Hey. I care. I’ll look after you. It’ll be OK.

And so you gave me that for a while too.

And our reflection became as one.

And then I thought what I wanted from you was heat.

A flame sparked passion in a world gone cold.

That ” can’t keep my hands off you. Now, NOW, NOW!” urgency.

That “I could do this with you for the rest of my life” midnight promise.

And so you gave me that for the briefest of moments.

The silver of our reflection became grey with dust.

I used to think I knew you.

A safe pair of hands, bound in black leather armour.

A knight errant, fighting dragons, righting wrongs.

A heroic union accredited “man in black” good guy.

And maybe I did. For a while.

I think I knew the officially sanctioned version anyway.

For now I see you are not “goalkeeper” safe. Your hands shake too much for that.

The dragons you fight are your own, making rights into wrongs.

That if you cannot fight for yourself, you will not fight for me.

And I now see that the good guy in black was so much dust on our reflection.

I wonder how much of it I swept there, formed from the ashes of burned past lovers carried in on my shoes.

And I wonder if you can still see me through the dust of our reflection.