Wednesday, 8 November 2017

A System Beyond Reform.

         Got up this morning, sat down at the computer, looked out the window. I’m comfortable, my window looks out across Littlehill Golf Course, a public owned golf course, a beautiful scene of undulating hills of grass and different types of trees, but Scotland’s winter had laid her icy hand across the area, the grass was white with frost. In conditions like this, how can you not think of those unfortunate individuals who find themselves sleeping rough, how do you not feel the frost savagely biting at the marrow of their bones, it is a lonely, slow, cruel death situation. It is difficult to grasp the fact that we, living in the sixth richest country on the planet, still tolerate such a cruel, unnecessary injustice. They suffer this vicious injustice not through lack of resources, but because of ideology.
The Homeless.

Tenebrous spectres, they exist,   out there,
on the crumbling edge of chaos.
A father, a son, a brother,
a daughter, a sister, a mother.
Fragments of some shattered family structure;
waste products
from a society being driven to destruction
by a hurricane of greed
living a life that wears out life,
the devious death of exhaustion from existence.

        No doubt, like me, you have listened to our political ballerinas spouting their hypocritical mantra, about what they are doing to help the homeless. They do this without shame or conscience, fully aware of the fact, that in the UK, since 2010, homelessness has increased by a staggering 34%. This massive increase can be laid at the feet of the government, through their welfare changes, introduction of Universal Credit, housing benefit cuts, etc.. Though these are not the only reasons for this increase, you can’t solve homelessness without building affordable homes. Our system of profit from houses is much more important than actually housing everybody, it is a system devoid of human compassion. It is much more profitable to have hordes of people chasing an small limited number of homes, this drives the prices up, big bucks for developers and estate agents. It pushes up rents, big bucks for landlords, why would they want to change such a lucrative system? It is a fact that the ideology of our political ballerinas, has driven the building of affordable homes to a 24 year low. It is also a fact that approximately one third of those homeless today will still be homeless a year on.

         It is an indictment on this system of profit before humanity, when we are looking at more than 300,000 people in this country waking up having spent the night, crammed with their families into hostels or dingy temporary rented accommodation, and these are the lucky ones, others will have spent the night on a pavement, doorway, dark lane, and if they wake up, in this weather, that is not guaranteed, it will be to face a cruel world, where their struggle for survival will be dependent of others and charity.

          This is capitalism, this is the system we tolerate, we know its injustices, we are aware of its inequality, we can see the suffering it inflicts on so many. We know within our hearts we can create a better, fairer system, a system built on compassion, mutual aid and co-operation, a system that will see to the needs of all our people, a system freed from the cancerous burden of profit and exploitation and free from the yoke of rich over privileged parasites, that suck the blood from all of our lives.

       Capitalism cannot be reformed, we have had centuries of reforms, the poverty, deprivation and wars are still with us. The only answer is the total destruction of this man made system of greed and exploitation. The next step is up to us.
The Warmth Of A Dream.

He lay in a dark doorway, dreamed of home,
night frost locked his joints
morning rain chilled the marrow of his bone.
In the dream there was a sister,
a pram in a garden, a crowd of youngsters
who called him "mister", a time of little pain.
Are these youngsters the same young men, who
now laugh at hime, throw beer cans,
piss on him as he lies drunk in some dark lane?
When was the first step down this slippery slope,
when was that first step to no forgiveness.
No will to rise to beg for food,
numbness kills the pain.
The dream brings a warmth that feels good,
dark fog shades out consciousness,
an ambulance carries off a body washed in rain. 
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