Blogosphere Troll-o-sphere

oh dear gawd, they’re here!
Below those callous comments appear
grammatically dry-cut, cold and clear

the ‘boo! hiss!’ of this century
can make one wonder ‘is it meant for me?’
this world of written pixels, causes
horrible troll-induced repetitive pauses
to read
re-read and disbelieve
the words
of these predatory puerile herds.

Take heed though, take heart, defy these malignants
these foul fans, disgusted attendants
nevertheless attend, carefully, till their cruel boredom’s sated
yet in the end, whose time was wasted?


Sat, in shadows deep, intellect resting
down in this darkness i found myself restive
as, constantly, conundrums craved
to a need for knowledge is my heart enslaved.

Yet around me now, this mental cave cavernous
filled with idlings of active mind ravenous
ravages us,
savages us
insatiable in groping search
the intellect a worshipper at study’s church.

Chattering and gibbering questions without pause
forcing thought further into idle fancy’s claws,
clawing away at focus and will
rending restraint, greed and gluttony over-spill.

So how to emerge, from this cerebral cage
where might I find a light to lead me back to my way?
dismay turns suddenly to delight, for then
with the smallest of smiles, I retrieve my pen.


Writing is the Prayer of Study’s Church

Boko Haram, Slam

Boko, Haram.
come on ,now man
before you plan to banish western wisdom away
consider your methods, Allah they’d dismay
as with guns
you ravage and slay
who is going to follow, your bloody way?

Truth is your cowards,
men that run
from freedom and free thought,
from study and fun
from science’s sun, from reason’s light,
look! you can still see your bloodied souls in flight.

You are about to become a footnote in history
in that at least there’s very little mystery
consider your cause, unjust and sick
the world has already had enough of your tricks
now, Shekau, your clock ticks
what will  you do, hide among the sticks?

Allahu Akhbar, God is indeed great
I pity you, Abu, none shall envy your fate
‘Qur’an 4:19 O you who believe! it is not lawful… that you should take women…. against (their) will’
beware the long length of your abducting butcher’s bill
for with every soul in His name you shame or kill
you add to the anger, to the people’s Holy will.

Abubakar Shakau, your time will come
for Boko Haram, are blood blinded scum.

‘good poems weird the truth’
and play with all that’s absolute
redefining the resolute
finding its all dissolute
as poet’s learn to convolute
language’s many attributes.

on the words the mind dances
inky stuff inducing trances
pixellated pakcages gobbled up greedily, whole
on life’s knowledge quest many now bet their soul
yet are we, truth-seekers, in control?

Nay, nay, we do as we’re told
our words wending into social folds
minds confined to a social mold
of gold, gorgeous and great, literarily lush
want to know a good poem, listen here, hush…

‘…good poems weird the truth’
true as vibrant youth
truth thrust from thriving heart
know you now the poet’s art? accessed 21/06/2014 for the single quote in this poem. Full credit to the author Camille T. Dungy.

The Poet’s Art

Unto Dust

Unto dust,
will they rust?
those symbols of lust
of blood greed
that exceeds,
all bonds of trust.
Greed for ‘great’ deeds
for the glorious scenes
of war, death and dying over which Galleries compete,
and people
who delete people,
over tools of death
fight for the parts, whatever’s left
the ‘levellers’ ‘peacemakers’ life-taking steel
grant a sense of power all can feel
supremely runs the course of this tale
for, in Man’s end, all weapons fail
man’s friend Earth would be stronger, hale
if the wisdom to disdain armed discord prevailed,
if Mankind saw truly what War’s path entailed,
flesh-splitting steel would thus
gather rust,
eschew by the enlightened, to return unto dust.


The Christian God likes lamb,
of halal death Allah’s a fan
blood for bloody gods of the sand
legends born in a  desert land.

Dedicate devote yourself, serve thine master
adhere to ancient tales, each with their own disaster
People, read on, wake up, look up soon
be alerted you who speak of Thor, or dance beneath the moon.

Earth’s boons are bountiful, beautiful and rich
beware benignly reverent ritual, ’twill develop a glitch
as from faith unto blind religion one’s practices will switch
then pitch,
all belief
all purified intent
off the cliffs of carelessness,
when the moment’s power is spent.

St Helens News- Staff Spring to Defence of Store

A startling, heart-warming example of loyalty and teamwork flared bright in Morrisons on Boundary Road, in St Helens, Merseyside. On June 6th, 2014, a rather garrulous, unpleasant and unsavoury character was causing a row with one of the store’s security guards, who’d clearly caught him out stealing. Now, normally this would be nothing to report, but as the thief and guard reached the doors, the thief made a break for it, throwing the guard and attempting to escape through the car park.

a powerful female voice bellowed “Staff!” Instantly the entirety of the store’s young, fit males deployed as if on a military manouvere, moving in groups to apprehend the thief. As a bystander in this event, I was in awe, deeply impressed and inspired by the staff in this shop when, flanked by exultant store assistants and led by the manager, the captured thief was paraded past every single checkout. Whether calculated or not, this walk of shame serves as a stern and powerful reminder that the staff in Morrisons are proud, prepared to defend their shop and pretty damn fast!

Throughout, decorum and the normal shopping routine had been maintained by other staff members, who joined the public in scrutinising the face of the thief, whose is known in St Helens as Lee Halsall.

In summary an unpleasant and unfortunate incident was brought to an end with the decisive, efficient action of the Boundary Road Morrisons staff.