Showing posts with label thought for the day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thought for the day. Show all posts

Saturday 14 September 2019

I'll Walk With The Poets.

        I've read the news from different avenues, I've poked my nose in some papers, I've intervened in the internet, and my thought for the days is quite simple, walk with the poets.
 
WALK WITH THE POETS.

My head has had enough of you,
you doomsday sooth-sayers, and
rationalists, that trap us in the world that is.
Go weave your tales of “can't be done”
to the dead, and those of no imagination.
I want to walk with the utopian,
the dreamer and the poet,
laugh with the child and sing with the wind.
Run with the deer, not with “the market trend”
Enough of, “this is the way it has to be”,
a world of poverty, wars and inequality.
Now, I'll create the world I want to see,
A world of sharing, peace and liberty.
I want the children to plan tomorrow,
the adult help them get there,
trees and flowers our treasured possessions,
with birds and animals their keepers.
Who wants a world that chains us to mortgages,
binds us to a labouring day, just to eat bread?
Who wants to spend their life, feeding fat-cats
while their own children go hungry?
No, this is not the world that has to be,
in our foolishness and misplaced trust,
this is a world that has slithered over us,
poisoning our mind, putrefying our spirit.
Let's call on the poet, let's welcome the dreamer,
let's take council with the utopian,
They'll help us create a better world for all.
Visit ann arky's home at https://radicalglasgow.me.uk 

Tuesday 18 November 2014

What Shape A Life.


Dripping from the labyrinthine of my mind, a wee thought for the day.

What Shape A Life.

This tottering tower this edifice around me,
mocked by twittering tongues
viewed with suspicion by powers that be,
by my own hand was it fashioned.
Though ugly and unkept
to the keepers of the canon,
its shape was by beauty driven.
Each brick each lintel by my own hand placed
drawn from what I could.
There is raw bone,   weary flesh,
anguish is there, anger
by the bucketful,
love by the truck load:
burning thoughts illuminate its darkest rooms,
attack it if you will, it will not tumble,
sincerity its binding mortar.

Visit ann arky's home at www.radicalglasgow.me.uk

Friday 22 February 2013

Who are the Oppressors?


Thought for the day.
    Who are the oppressors? The few: the King, the capitalist, and a handful of other overseers and superintendents.

    Who are the oppressed? The many: the nations of the earth; the valuable personages; the workers; they that make the bread that the soft-handed and idle eat.
Mark Twain.

ann arky's home.