Poetry to end poverty

A collection of poetry contributed by people who				A breath of love in despair
believe in our idea to end poverty forever. This				Whisper-
idea can be found on				In, out, the soft tide of warm air
Please note that the views expressed by these				I feel the strength of hope and lies
poets do not necessarily represent the views of				Inside my mouth as the word dies
the 'Four Walls for Freedom Campaign'. We				The heart, the soul, it needs a scriptwriter
support free speech and have thus not edited				In agony I wonder if I can be a fighter
any of them.				Two people sit together and tell nothing to each
You may redistribute this collection of poems as				other
long as you do not change or edit it (including the				Yet these nothings are short aspirations, of what
introduction). Feel free to tell people about our				they could be together
idea to end poverty or come up with your own				The hills, the trees, the lines of clouds, the heather
idea that works even better.				The world is perfect, the sun, the holy weather
Here's our idea to end poverty in short:				Can I muse or amuse and not lose
0.5% tax on foreign exchange transactions				Is this poem a great big ruse
worldwide, raising over Â£1 trillion per year.				Whose poem is this, whose
Employ most of the poor people in developing				Can you really choose
countries with this money to build houses and				The meanings that come from sentences
related infrastructure for themselves. These				Are like a jail with walls as tenses
houses would be given free to the poor.				Envelope yourself, cover your senses
The stimulus of the Â£1 trillion per year to				In a war on tremours of the soul, you sitting in
developing countries kick starts their economies				the trenches.
and makes the price of houses start to rise.				Politicspolitics is theatreas all the worlds a playbut
As the house price goes up, the poor become				war is politics by other meansas Clausewitz would
rich.				sayso what is the theatre of war?
There are numerous processes that would go into				WAR and peacethe world was born of peaceit's
effect and quite a bit of theoretical reasoning why				creator rested after the effort of making itbut
this would work. Find out more and join us on our				now all that has ceasedand the earth has gone to
website,				shitbombs rail overhead and underneaththe suicide
Poetry Collection				killer, the USA daisycutter comes down from the
Untitled				planeis this the answer?verse becomes teaseand i
In summer you force yourselves				would prefer curry with peasfor the terse verse
Upon us. All about a wild				is in reverseand bin laden's messages ring
Haze of leaning lust and				overhead like cluster bombskilling has become
Afrodisiae. Pollen smudged bark				normaland the creator would be cryingon his
And pungent air, soft little				cross, on his crescent, in the Buddha poseand sit
Tendrils and ravishing hair;				alone and be all a sighingfor with war we only
An old master's palette upon				losebut there is a glimmer of hopefor war must
Which I idly do stare. The gnarled roots				always endit just depends when.
They thrive, their branches				Plathos
Cleave cleansed air whilst				The kitchen bladewill snicker snack
I just sit here watching				My puny wrist
From someones old chair.				A moments sharp pain
A wanton cornucopia of				Will end
Sublime delights				In eternal bliss.
I know I feel yer				These are the thoughts
And I'll miss these long nights				These are the feelings
Your sound is your scent				That hiss hiss hiss.
Your touch won't relent				The little jellies
Your vision for one person				Will slide and slip
Only is meant.				Down down down
Divorcei walked into an empty housea void of a				My rabid throat
room, a place of marriage doomfor immortal love				And a few gargled swills
here had been dousedthe thread of conversation				Will end all ills.
from a broken loomon the table was a picture				These are the cravings
brass frame housedof a happy bride, a poignant				These are the ravings
groomtheir faces did not foretell the breakdown				That kill kill kill.
rousedof divorce found ever too soonon the				The bridge is near
bedroom dresser lay a broken wedding dressand				The bridge is far
dead flowers wilted in a vase of oily cessthe place				What is in between
was a jilted messand all there was lessher name				Lefty still unseen?
was Tessthat's all				The cliff is high
Untitled				The trough is low
Does a butterfly				Where am I?
Recall imago				I do not know
And pupae				Now where I'll be
Just like yesterday?				When I choose to go.
A frog fantasiseflippantly about				Just drawing you
Old spawn and it's				Just drawing you
First murky dawn?				Brought you soaring
A dog pine				Back so strikingly
The dull bark				To my starving memory
Of a log it pissed				Reciting and recycling
Upon yesterday?				In lines linked times
A swan it's shell				Refined and defined
Long dissolved				A little of you here and there
And disseminated				Lips open..lips closed
Down the river?				An eybrow...a nose
I doubt it but				Lashes and lashes
I wonder because				Dots and dashes
The blackbird sings				Hair parting
The same song				Falling, and meeting
Dusk after dusk				Those eyes flashing
From fermenting husk				Flinging feelings
To dissolving rust.				An expression
World Views				An obsession
World Views and language games				Craving those eyes
They made a society go up in flames				So crazy really
The tragedy of warring nations				In all seriousness
A worrying and troubling destination				So ridiculous
Like a pop song they had no weight				No need for all that.
Like an astronaut atop the moon				What we had.
They came with bombs and hate				What we had was difficult.
And bring our lives to an end soon				Trying to explore each other,
But what is the reason for a culture going to war				Trying to guess, and second guess,
Is it the hurt, the anger that makes them sore				One another's needs.
Is the idea of them and us a truth to be told				To short a time to get under the skin,
Or is it that our lives have for oil been sold				Still trying to impress each other,
The vagaries and superfluous lies of the politician				Even now, on the phone,
Are matched by fundamentalism and superstition				Seven thousand miles away.
Yet there is no hope without a lasting solution				The banality of relations is astonishing,
There is no silver bullet or salving lotion				Maneourves in the dark,
Football				Breaking cover, hiding again.
The football craze begins to stir				Trying to conjure the other.
The players dodge and turn to be a lure				Why does it always have to be this way?
We must win in this world war 2006				Is fear of rejection so intense?
All our troubles it will fix				What is it about the fear of loss,
Football, football, football, football				That drives people to such extremes.
They come short and tall				There has to be another way.
To the field of play that represents a world's				To revel in another's affection,
events				Building a story together,
To the leaders this submission is heaven sent				Rather than playing an opponents alone.
There is no scene of greater love				If she 'wins' this game then fair enough,
No romantic film that can bind men as one				She is more beautiful and intelligent than me,
Than a primate fight that takes one's sight				To not conform to anyone else's bequest,
And elevates those who are not bright				And just enjoy creation, that's my goal.
Lines written upon Brixton Hill				Given up on these power games.
Are empty,				I was being murdered anyway.
Without sound				To live a life where to give,
Effects.				Is appreciated, by both parties.
So as				These are the qualities I want to explore.
I write.				In myself and another.
I listen				She Said
To the swirl				She said
Of sirens				'You have so much angst, it's really unattractive.'
And blue flashes				She's right,
That ignite				Angst is really crap.
The streets below				It makes a person look weak,
Where hooded				Scared.
Shadows lope				Maybe,
And shape shift				A couple of photo's of her,
Along littered pavements				Our on my computer at work,
Heckled by whores				Looking at them brings on this strong fuzzy glow,
Who loiter provocatively				Where's the angst come in?
In patent leather				The love for this woman,
Their bruised flesh				Which wells up in my stomach,
Exposed at the height				Burning through my body,
Of winter.				Leaving me ravished,
I like it				Blushing at the nakedness,
Up here				Of the desire.
In my box;				Why then angst?
My window's Eye;				Conquer the fear,
A pinhole camera				What then?
That catches all				New fear?
That goes by				What is the fear saying?
Like an insomniac's				Is it just a highly developed sense?
Nightmare.				Absorbing shock
Certain Songs Ring Bells				Before
Certain songs ring bells				During
"We are together"				After
Disperse lingering hells				She finds it unattractive.
"All people unite"				Am I offended?
Bring water up from dry wells				No.
"Let love grow"				Angst is Crap
This song a story tells				There was a time,
"Stay together........."				When presentation of perfection,
For we are forever				Or at least an interpretation
Ignorant of time				There of.
A moment never				Mattered
Wasted for				She talks about her ex boyfriends.
What is yours				Should have said something before,
Is mine				But didn't know how,
And together we shine, shine, shine.				Wanted to be strong,
"We are together"				Wanted to ask her,
Hopefully forever				If it's always like this at the start.
"All people unite"				Laying the groundwork for the end.
Today and tonight				Paul
"Let love grow"				Martyn
So that we'll				Feels like her attention,
"Stay together".				Likes to wander off of me,
For we are forever, forever				Like we are never alone.
Aware of what				Great sex
Is yours and				Bad sex
What is mine				Dirty sex
Whilst constantly ignoring				What about our sex?
The give way sign				What would you like to do?
Yet somehow together				With you?
We shine, shine, shine.				To you?
Lust				Can we talk about that?
Lust, it is loves neighbour,but it does not covet its				If not, why not?
neighbor's goods.				I'd just like her to show me,
Lust, it is an unrelenting tidein and out, a man's				To waltz in the realms of ecstasy
labour.				Not lead this elaborate dance
As birds do come and go				Of
Flying then roosting				20
As the sun begins its journey and ends, so				30
Lust is never sated with a feasting.				40
The moon yawns high above, as below,				Questions,
In the boat of the lovers it does row,				Feels like your best times were in the past.
Yet comes lust like ivy, enveloping slow-				With men you loved for years
And intertwined they fail to each other know.				I can't compete with their attention,
Carrion clawing vulture, is lust to the Christian				After but a few months.
Yet others in the East, see lust as a hopeful				If angst is crap, then I have,
bastion				Unfortunately,
War is created by lust -				A crap side of me.
In this surely we can trust.				It's there,
Whilst drowning I become a fish				Human,
Eyes open-				Work with it,
External,				May not ever go away,
Physical,				But it will never consume
Reality shapes....				The beauty you see.
Emotion.				Which is the point
Eyes closed-				Yet with her, more is the word,
Inverted;				More than a fantasy,
A disguise				More than an intellectual game.
As emotion				If she so completely hates this,
Shapes a reality....				She should walk away,
Somewhere else,				Under tiredness
But not				Stress
Elsewhere.				Duress
Alone but				I crack
Not tearing				Mood nose-dives
Out my hair....				Light sucked out of my soul.
As subtle shades				Will go through many evenings
Replace				If she walks,
Slick shadows....				Being
Shed the straight jacket				Tired,
And leap free.				Emotional,
Whilst drowning				Hurt.
I become fish...				Yet while I would walk over hot coals for her,
Water swills				Take the force of the knocks she gets,
Around my new				Sympathise
Found gills.				Empathise
Weighed down				Be strong, calm, wise, positive.
By the liquid				Talk 'till dawn if that's what she needs,
That fills				(For my soul aches when I see her distressed,)
My aqualungs				That's some commitment,
I free fall				If she can't live with a little weakness,
Front crawl				Perhaps leaving is best.
And merge with				One Night Stand
The cyclone squall...				I woke that morning with her,
Fathoming new				The hazy fascination with her soul,
Depths of				Seemed to belong in another realm.
Free forming dna				The carnal actuality of the situation,
That belongs				Like a sirocco scorched my mind,
To a time				The hot sand it carried covered our bodies,
That knows				Giving a warmth that painfully, yet fundamentally,
No day.				Belonged with the dirt on the ground.
Gut wrenching hell				Like a desert flower wilting in the sun,
Gut wrenching hell				Longing for the sensuous rain,
Stomach churning				Wilts and dies on it's own,
Like a church bell				Leaving little but a sad corpse,
Crazily messed brain				As evidence of its desire and hope.
Ideas jangling				And I, as I luxuriate in delicious rain,
Like a possessed bunch of keys				Know that the drought.
Sick sick senses				Is but an hour away.
Depraved and concave				I have no need of her, indeed,
Prone and prostrate				Such a thought terrifies my very being,
All tenses rave and frustrate				Yet in these precious minutes of luxury,
Ego marooned and becalmed				Touching her eyes with mine,
On the fringe of a mendacious storm				Running my hands across her chest,
Your rules have shattered any norm				Dancing in its purest form,
Raw sensation sensuously balmed				Reaching out across the void existence.
In your bliss.				And having the void kiss me back.
You slowly take over with a hiss hiss hiss.				If that's all she is,
You said				A refection of the void, right here right now,
You said, "Have I done something wrong?"				The flower will die, its soul galvanised
"No"				To rise again in divine precipitation.
We are just ordinary people				But the thought that's dying right now,
In a crazy circumstance				Is that I long to Dance with her soul,
With a need to circumspect				And have her soul kiss me back.
No need, as of yet,				You asked if Philosophers should be politicians
For any mutual respect				You asked if Philosophers should be politicians,
Who knows......perchance...				I said no,
One day our lives may meet properly				Gandhi was a lawyer,
And then we may dissect				Used the law
These petty, negative feelings				Kicked a corrosive superpower,
And superimpose positive healings;				Out of his homeland,
God willing,				Then declined to be its leader.
No tears;				Blair is a Lawyer,
Just lovely, natural, feelings				Had an Illegal war.
Oh how I suppose and hope so;				Didn't give a F**k about the law.
Just like the flower longs				He just loves being in charge.
To grow and grow				If leaders are philosophers,
Before the hoe				They'd only wreak the truth,
Sheers its subterranean seed in two.				Twist it,
Shelley's mirror				Change it,
Isis wed mercuriousand all was wellthe world				For good and bad.
became clearas Shelley's mirror would tellthe love				Politics is the art of the possible,
that holds togetherthe atoms of the bodyis a				Therein lies the beauty.
knotted plotto get the world readybeyond the				And the horror.
ken of mortal manbut within the eyes of mortal				Hannah
womanis the spirit that talksthe anima of Jungit				Hannah ran through the fieldof poesy and pretty
sings a musely song.				shieldof light and dome covered landthe world was
Lust again				blues, greens and sandthe creeping desert
Lust, Lust Lust,				became a terrorit gave fear and deep horrorfor
It's such a bitch,				there was only onefor her to seethat would take
Damp tortuous nights nights dreaming,				her from thisterritoryand nothing spokeand
About some girl who's actually a witch.				nothing brokebut the heart was heavyand a little
Lust Lust Lust,				revvylike a carthat pollutes the atmospherethe
It's all a bit Sh!t				only soul that would find dearwas in IKEAbuying
Endless mental energy spent,				gearfor the house or flatwho knows if there was
Result? You look a complete tit.				a cator maybe just a hatbut neverthelessthere
Lust Lust, Lust.				was too much in the cold light of day to say that
Here we go again				there was somethinga thing of beautyshe's
One smile, one look, one pair of shapely legs,				Hannahwho likes to make bannersand art and
And you locked in the Bastille of Pain.				darting commentsand bannersoh i said that
Lust Lust Lust				alreadyi think my name is Freddybut if it doesn't
Lust after the small,				rhymeis it poetryand if it does,is it nonsensebut
Who bloody needs rumpy pumpy,				then we sawit all togetherand there we werea
When you've got Bastard SCRUMPY!!!!				little treasurea little pleasureand some leisure
Lust again and again				Mannah
The problem with Lust,				Hannah is manna from heaven,she's a bright spark
Is that it is Boobs or Bust!				in the dark,a world away, a sheltered haven,a
Nothing will satisfy the quest				joyful release, a humble ark,where all of the world
Like coping a grope of a breast.				can be saved,a grinding mill, a stone lathe,that
Open or wrapped sir?				takes life's problems and turns them into
As long as you squeeze her,				powder,a woman with real power.
The 'undercover' lover is just as sweet,				Love poemi cannot believe it,i cannot, cannot
As the totally un-packaged treat!				believethe world is a Plath-like melodyof misery
Dodge that bra, with your wrist				and shameyet the light still shinesand the path is
Here comes the surprising twist!				openlike a circle's linesinfinite beyond mortal kenas
It's not getting you and in that's Hard,				though I were sleepingi breath lightlyand dreams
It's getting it out again before she has a mard!!!to				followthis love is true, rightlyand not a
Lebanonwill anyone remember youchild strewn				hollowempty fading rainbowsomething unsightly
across the roadhave you got anything to doplay,				To a girlyour beauty is a lie,because it's too good
jump, laugh, go to the looviolence is justified				to be true,from my feelings I could die,because I
against civilianssays bin ladenbut then so does				haven't been given my due.
Ehud olmurton civilians is the burden ladenit is they				I'd love to know you better,because without it I
who get hurtthe buildings which once were				am dulled,
networks of peoplenow like a desert, deserted, a				Your emails, voice or letter,my mind would be
curt reminder of powerthe mosque gone, no				mulled.
more the church steeplecan a world in troubles go				You are a fine wine,
any lower.				A bouquet of innocence and wonder,perhaps we
Whisper				could dine, sometime,
Whisper-				Without you I am like a storm without thunder.

Midpen Insight

Poetry to end poverty

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