Cycles

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Cycles

All things that rise up to a peak must fall.
Even the tallest towers of Earth’s empires.
The strongest life-force, given time it tires
And slows and dies – it matters not at all.
A being or a mountain or a wall,
Churches and mosques with heaven-pointing spires –
They all must yield to death, to rain and fires;
All things will be brought low, that now are tall.
The rocks will one day all be ground to dust.
New rocks will rise and reach towards the sky.
The world will once again be clothed in ice,
And steel that girds the world will turn to rust.
Yet what is low, in turn will be brought high,
Until the time comes for its sacrifice.

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Lawyers and Liars

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If your bank account is dipping
In the red, then just try slipping
In a supermarket shopping
(Where there’s always something dropping
and they haven’t started mopping)
And just lying there and groaning,
Clutching at your leg and moaning,
Then off to the lawyers limping
(For they specialize in pimping).
Pretty soon you will be suing
And your bank account accruing
Money that you weren’t deserving,
But then lawyers are self-serving –
They don’t care that you’re a liar,
You’re a victim – they’re for hire.

Calypso

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Calypso

Odysseus yearns for Penelope.
The Nymph Calypso, in her vaulted cave,
Says never will he cross the wine-dark sea,
For she must keep the hero as her slave –
Her slave to love – from cruel Poseidon save.
For should Odysseus from her isle sail,
The Earth-shaker will send him to his grave.
He’ll buffet him with waves, lightning and gale,
And shatter on high seas his raft so frail,
Thus on Odysseus take his revenge;
Or so he thinks – his efforts all will fail.
Odysseus will reach home and avenge
The honour of his wife – her suitors kill;
As fair Calypso bows to Zeus’ will.

Choosing Sides

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It’s come to this – you must choose where you stand.
No longer can you sit upon the fence.
You must comply, or join the outlaw band.
Become a drone, or keep your soul and sense.
And if you choose the later, your defence
Will need attending to, you’ll be attacked;
For you will be a threat to order, hence
Be on your guard, and counter lie with fact.
The former by their powerful friends are backed;
They have infernal forces on their side.
With “useful fools” their rabid ranks are packed;
You’ll have but logic – and no place to hide.
The choice is yours – I hope you get it right;
You’re not the kind of guy I wish to fight.

A Gulag Holiday!

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A Gulag Holiday!

The Gulags were quite pleasant really, so,
How did A. Solzhenitsyn get it wrong?
The inmates used to frolic in the snow!
They’d celebrate each day with dance and song!
They’d dine on gruel and grilled rats, and grow strong!
Siberia was just the place to be.
Ten years (on average) wasn’t very long –
You got an education – and for free!
But Solzhenitsyn? Not his cup of tea.
Some Russian writers were so hard to please.
Recalcitrants would even try to flee;
But in Siberia you tend to freeze
Out in the open; but, spoilsports were rare.
Most happy campers wish they were still there.

Soviet Gulags were compassionate

Banished!

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Banished!

He disagrees with our most sacred views.
He has millions of followers it’s said.
He claims that we’re conveyors of fake news.
(That’s news? We after all share the same bed!)
By poor misguided people he is read.
It would be best if he would disappear.
A snake will die if you cut off its head;
A body minus fangs one needn’t fear.
Of course his friends and followers will jeer.
They’ll no doubt say that we have been unkind;
But it’s a leftward course that we must steer,
And to the left must turn each fragile mind.
He must be silenced, lest some be beguiled
By his damned facts – do we agree? – Exiled!