Love in the stars

 

See those shooting stars

playing for us.

See them dancing

in their star dust.

See the comets

gracing the sky for us.

See the moon

as she glances down in love.

See the trees that grow so tall.

See the hills that roll,

the canyons that fall.

See the leaves blowing across

the landscape painted in chalk dust lights

and rejoice at the wonder of the sights.

 

See those nights,

how they remind me of you.

The enticing way

they hold me close enough

to feel the heartbeat of the stars.

The way they

make my spine shiver in delight.

The way I'm all a quiver

at the thoughts

of what this night will deliver.

See the truth

spelled out in stars,

like glittering love hearts

painted over this canvas of sky.

See the questions written up there.

Could you love me

until time leaves

and eternity enters?

 

See those nights.

They remind me of you,

because when I see you,

I see stardust in your eyes,

I see the magic that lives inside.

I see futures and possibility,

and I never want to hide.

I just want to dance

and have everyone looking our way.

I won’t flinch away

I'll hold out my heart and say

I don’t care

what any of the people see,

or what they may think of me.

As when I see you

I see the stars out to play,

and that makes me happier

than I have any right to be.

Justice

 

Is it justice

to have a list of victims,

where all the perpetrators

are kept hidden?

Is it justice

if those who have money and fame

get their names redacted?

Leaving the victims

with their names

shown as if in blame.

This male led world

where blame lays

at the victims doors,

she was begging for it,

did you see what she was wearing?

She brought it on herself, I’m sure,

just after attention, money and wealth.

Suck it up.

It’s not like anyone ate any kids. (Ohh wait)

 

The grass-fed herd chow it all down

without realising they are just eating

their own shit smeared ground.

This problem goes much deeper

than a former prince

and a few rich people.

There is no party divide,

it isn’t one side or another.

It’s on our doorsteps.

It’s in the men who act like

the world was made for them.

It’s in the people who vote them in.

It’s in each of us for turning a blind eye

when we all knew that they were not right.

 

Page after page,

degradation and depravity,

moral compasses all at sea,

when they keep their names

hidden from us to see.

Where is the rage?

These people need to be shamed,

locked in a cage

and the keys

melted into symbols of hope.

So, pick up a pen. Share your anger

again, and again until they listen.

 

Let us fight for justice,

but be under no illusion,

this needs change at the deepest level.

We need to be on an even playing field

to even start to unravel this mess.

Men, that means looking deep inside,

changing our outlook.

accepting our parts in all of this.

And look, it’s really quite simple.

Treat everyone as equals.

Turn off the hate for just a moment.

Stop thinking the world is against you.

It is not.

The world doesn’t give a shit.

She just spins on through the cycles,

wishing we would treat her better.

The rich on the other hand

want us to start digging

our own graves into the land.

So, aim your anger at them

and let us all do better, we owe this to the world.

Very little helps

 

This supermarket life,

cellophane wrapped feelings

to protect from

the dirty hands outside.

Your own brand thoughts

no longer allowed,

only

mass produced emotions

printed on boxes

stacked ceiling high.

 

Shiny packaging

conceals an overpriced

chemistry set

of regret and

over produced lies.

Full of sugar

to hide the bitterness

and the tang of rot,

that gets caught

in your throat.

Meanwhile the

misshapen produce sits

neglected in a pile,

ready to be incinerated

in the ceremonial funeral pyre.

 

Live well for less,

they contest,

whilst pushing

overpriced bags

of emptiness.

Prices that pop,

the slogans never stop,

do your weekly shop,

and fill your bins

with our rancid microwaved slop.

That Asda be a con,

and when you wonder

where all your money has gone,

you can use the boxes to keep warm.

 

Colourful and bright,

easily distracting at

eye level to get attention,

in spite of containing

no nutrition.

Just cardboard and sawdust,

repackaged

as food and consumed 

by the bucket full.

Easily distracted eyes

sigh in delight at the cartons

printed in bold lettering,

every little helps they smile,

as they buy another lie.