Poemathon 3

Here are Poems 319 to the present

Ta daaa!!!

So here is poem 365 of my Poemathon.

An entire year of poetry has come and gone - a brand new poem every day for 365 days is now done.

I can’t quite believe I’ve managed it somehow.

For sure, when I started I did not quite believe I’d be able to keep it up. Amazing what you can do when you have the bit between your teeth and are perseverimng with something for no other reason than it is fun!

The joy of creation is the best joy there is - and should be applied for that very reason to EVERY area of human endeavour.

Having said that, I may not write any more poetry for a while (probably)

So here then, at last, is my final poem:


Dum te dum te dum te dum

Dum to dum te do

Dum te dum te diddley dum

Te dum te diddley doo . . . .

Only kidding!

Here is the real poem:

Day 365. Wednesday 16th April 2018


In the beginning of everything

Was a decision,

And the decision was to be,

Whether light or darkness,

Hero or villain

A saint or a sinner

Imprisoned or free,

Cruel or kinder

A loser or finder

A slave or a leader

A problem or solver

Or even the writer

Of poetry

Hardly anyone reads.

In the beginning the decision

Now and forever

Was mistaken by its maker

For fate shaping the nature

Of his time or his future


In the beginning of everything

There was the decision

But the beginning is


Day 364. Tuesday 15th April 2019


Hate is a monster

Driven by hunger.

The more that you feed it

The more it grows stronger

Day 363. Monday 14th April 2019


The fuelling of hate is a Globalist caper

The standard routine of divide and conquer

The clever agenda of black propaganda

That dupe us all into fighting each other,

‘Til neighbour fights neighbour

And brother kills brother

And the world is set fire

By quarrelling strangers

And the herdsmen and slavers

Inherit its embers.

Day 362. Sunday 14th April 2019


If it seems sometimes

Like I''m dreaming

In the middle of the day

It's just that my spirit's marching

Singing far away.

Day 361. Saturday 13th April 2019


To all the Very Best People

My advice is set a goal

And make a game

To engage the dreams of Man.

And if you're gonna do it

Better do it quickly if you can

For it's the safest thing to do

Before the game becomes, Getting You.

Day 360. Friday 12th April 2019


Behold a civilisation

Floundering on the shoals of discontent

Because We The People never

Got together and agreed a name

For the product we expect

From that thing called government.

Day 359. Thursday 11th April 2019


Everyone likes to be right

Yet when you get something wrong

The way to be even more wrong

Is to keep on insisting you were right,

But the way to become right

Is to own the fact that you got it wrong.

Day 358. Wednesday 10th April 2019


A person on life support

Until his flesh is healed and mended

Does not become the property

Of the hospital on whose machinery

His survival is dependent.

Nor does he forfeit his human rights

To the managers of that establishment.

Well, it seems to me in similar vein

A baby in the womb’s on life support

Until he’s better grown

And while he’s there his human rights

Remain inviolably his own.

Day 357. Tuesday 9th April 2019


The road to hell they say

May well be paved with good intentions

But seems to me ‘twas prob’ly laid

By those with ill compulsions

And those who built it likely slaves

To myriad rash conclusions.

Day 356. Monday 8th April 2019


My Poemathon’s nearly over,

When it’s done I’m gonna miss it,

The year long daily wrestle

With stanza, stave and verse.

But what if I just kept going,

And inflicted on you more of it

Or is that really too perverse?

Day 355. Sunday 7th April 2019


Whether you use a microscope

Or telescope that’s fit

For looking at the stars

All you can ever hope

To see is shit

When your head is up your arse.

Day 354 Saturday 6th April 2019


I’ve come to the conclusion

After much deliberation

There’s a great deal of confusion

Over what’s good for the nation

And confusion for resolution

Requires we find a stable datum

To achieve an orientation

And a tad of equilibrium.

So how about this axiom

To calm our pandemonium:

The people of our kingdom

Are better than their own opinion.

Day 353. Friday 5th April 2019


Dewy with expectation

Today opened like a flower

‘Til bad news like a bug crawled in

And started to devour

Its fragile petals hours by hour.

I knew I must act swiftly

Lest the day be dead soon after

So I got out my best pesticide

And sprayed the ruddy thing with laughter.

Day 352. Thursday 4th April 2019


The world isn’t going mad.

It’s actually getting more sane

And pre-existing insanities

Are merely becoming more plain.

Day 351. Wednesday 3rd April 2019


The other day I started thinking

I’m trying to save the world

And I know that ‘s a delusion,

Arrogant and unreal

And I’m probably suffering

From big ideas above my station.

For I’m just a bloke on a pension,

An insignificant citizen

And an ordinary man among millions.

One man who wants to save the world

May sound somewhat ridiculous

But think of it for a moment

An imagine what would happen

If all of us “ordinary” people

All got the same big idea.

Day 350. Tuesday 2nd April 2019


Sometimes it’s painful waking

From the oblivion of sleep

To a game that’s broad and sweeping

And the promises we must keep.

Day 349. Monday 1st April 2019


Personally I think the universe

Was started on the first of April

Way back in Year Zero.

It wasn’t meant to be serious

And God has been saying,

“April fool!” ever since.

Day 348. Sunday 31st March 2019


The People telling the oligarchs

They can’t have it all their own way

And rebuking their own governments,

Demanding to have their say,

Nothing like this historically,

A new game’s under way.

Day 347. Saturday 30th March 2019


Nations are like ships

Wandering the high seas forever,

With blind men at the tiller

Seeking a harbour

No-one ever named,

No mapped journey’s end

And no knowing hand

At the goal-less rudder.

And below decks the passengers

Blame one another

For never arriving

At the Promised Land

And they never noticed

They never agreed on

Where it is or where they’re going.

And never arriving,

The ship in the end springs leaks

And starts to flounder.

Day 346. Friday 29th March 2019


Nearly done my Poemathon,

Only nineteen poems to go

And if you ask me why am I doing it

I’ll still say I don’t really know.

I think I like the sensation

When I think I’m all poemed out

And the tear drop of inspiration

Falls to break the poetry drought.

Or maybe the beautiful loneliness

Of playing to an empty hall

And braving the world’s indifference

Has caught me in its thrall.

It isn’t the accolades I’m after,

Though I’m a legend in my own head,

I guess I’m just looking forward

To being famous after I’m dead.

Day 346. Friday 29th March 2019

Day 345. Thursday 28th March 2019


War is heaven for psychopaths

For it suspends the rules of good behaviour

And enables them to blow the limbs off children

Whilst hiding among true heroes

With no fear of censure.

Day 344. Wednesday 27th March 2019


Bankers and psychs,

Corporate oligarchs

Warmongers, mass druggers

And other subversives

With classic misdirection

Endlessly blame the Muslims

And teach us to fear

Conquered peoples

And fleeing refugees.

This in the end

Was what happened to Rome

When too many wrongs and betrayals

Had eroded its pride

And no-one would fight for it

And diseased and decaying within

Became a giant that never looked so strong

Just before it died.

For in truth our woes like Rome’s

Are home-made

And our weaknesses home-gown.

The sure way to protect your nation

From real or imagined foes,

Is to make it just and strong,

Too robust to succumb to infection,

Subversion, treason or fear,

Whose citizens and friends

Take such pride in it

They will move Heaven and Earth

To uphold it.

Day 343. Tuesday 26th March 2019


The human race is lied to

Every hour of every day

By its gaolers and its slavers

So delusion and confusion

Continue holding sway.

We are living in a prison

Of the falsehoods we believe,

And endless deprecations,

By the foes of Man deceived.

Day 342. Monday 25th March 2019


The Poemathon goes on and on,

I’ve been at it nearly a year,

Which I thought was worth a mention.

Some people will do aught I fear

To get some ruddy attention

Day 341. Sunday 24th March 2019


Strong voices in the land,

The sleeping giant wakes

Stir not the ire of Man

Lest your venal towers quake.

You goad him at your peril

And underestimate his wrath

Beware the angry People

For they have had enough.

Day 340. Saturday 23rd March 2019


The herdsman made an error

When he thought he was herding cattle,

Treating free beings like goods and chattel.

The anything-goes crimes,

The lies and the drugs

The whips and the scourges,

The pushes and shoves,

The bullets and bombs,

The shocks and the clubs

In the end will backfire

Into nothing but trouble.

And just up ahead justice lies waiting

And the People hold the keys

To the gaol of your making.

Each mind is a pin

For your delusional bubble.

Day 339. Friday 22nd March 2019


Putting in order

Persist through the confusion

That always blows off.

Day 338. Thursday 21st March 2019


Whosoever spake these words for sure spoke sooth:

You can fool all of the people some of the time

And some of the people all of the time

But you cannot fool all of the people all of the time.

But methinks there is something missing from this truth

And there are those who pursue its missing line:

Our power is safe if we can fool just fine

Enough of the people enough of the time.

Day 337. Wednesday 20th March 2019


God help me I keep getting sucked into politics

That holds me ‘gainst my will transfixed

When I’d rather be writing poetry,

And dream my dreams with probity.

Some say a poem ne’er saved the world

Nor kept the banners of our hate tight furled

And no poem e’er set man free,

I say, “We’ll my friend, we’ll see.”

In truth no poem e’er made man a slave

Or consigned a child to an early grave

Or brought a nation to its knees

Or silenced thought or spread disease.

It makes fierce men weep but not for long

And can remind the weak they can be strong.

It springs from a well of infinite depth

And echoes forever, transcending death.

A poem can great hopes inspire

And bid men set their goals much higher,

Found a city or point to the stars

Or guide a suitor to his true love’s arms.

No culture great e’er lacked great verse

But where it ebbed was the tide reversed.

And politics ne’er will make us whole

While there’s no poetry in its soul.

Day 336. Tuesday 19th March 2019


We’re always being sold on the Promised Land,

Which we’re assured is just over the horizon,

No matter how hard we strive to get there

And the minefields and ravines we must cross,

The sacrifices made are a small price to pay,

As are the blisters, the pain and the grief,

Which we’re convinced will surely be worth it

For in the Promised Land all will be lovely

But the problem is that ruddy horizon

Which always stays just out of reach.

Day 335. Monday 18th March 2019


I’ve been neglecting the poetry

And now I’m a week behind.

The day I started this Poemathon

I must have been out of my mind.

Writing ;poetry day after day

Courts the worst of my fears

Haunted as I am by the prospect,

Of finding myself out of ideas.

When all else fails I tell myself,

I can always think up a thought

And a poem after all can be pithy,

Abstruse and mercifully short

Day 334. Sunday 17th March 2019


Much of human history

Century after century

And millennium upon millennium

Has obviously been driven

By what can only be considered

A difference of opinion

Between those who believe sincerely

That government should serve The People

And those convinced most ardently

The People should serve their government,

Those who think on one hand

That The People should be heard

And those who are certain

On the contrary

The People are a herd.

Day 333. Saturday 16th March 2019


I thank God for my blessings.

I’m reasonably brainy and fairly creative,

Full of bright ideas and passably sharp-witted

But I crave the trait

I most admire in others

That’s summed up by one word: brave.

This universe will kill the faint hearted,

And even the smartest bastard

Will barely get started

If his gifts are not tempered

By plenty of courage.

Day 332. Friday 15th March 2019


I was thinking earlier today

About the Hyde Park and Birmingham

Bombings by the IRA.

I never did hate all Irish or Catholics

For the murder of Brits

By the psychos among their number.

And for the atrocities

Of ISIS and Al Qaeda

I don’t hate all Muslims either.

It seems to me madness

To hate a third of the planet

For the actions of lunatics

Mere hundreds in number.

In similar vein I hope that Muslims

Will not hate me or my wife

Or my kids or my brother

For the bombing of Baghdad

Or the razing of Syria

Engineered by the nutters

In power over here.

It would be quite tragic

For good men to fear

Or hate one another

For the homicidal acts of the

Psychopaths among us.

Day 331. Thursday 14th March 2019


I guess that what is happening

Is we are trying to secede

From an empire owned by bankers

And run by bureaucrats,

Behind a thin and not very convincing

Veneer of fake democracy.

Albeit we were conquered

By subterfuge and treason

Without a shot being fired,

We have regrettably awoken

To find that we are reluctantly

In the sticky spiderweb

Of some pin-striped Calligula's

Would-be empire

That is still trying to tighten

Its grip on its dominions

And whose architects

Live in constant terror

That at any moment

Their gig will unravel

And they will find themselves

Strung from lamp posts.

But until that happy day arrives

We should not need reminding

That empires as a rule

Do not let go their dominions

With a pat on the head

And a cheery wave.

Day 330. Wednesday 13th March 209


Mis-managed to destruction

With great deliberation

Traitors in its government

Lulled a bewildered nation

With lies and by sly increments

Until it sleep-walked into imperium

And woke one day to find

It had surrendered placidly

The vestiges of freedom.

I guess this kind of conquest

Is overall preferable

To being bombed into oblivion

But the meekness of surrender

Is somewhat lacking in heroism

And is by its nature

Painfully embarrassing.

Day 329. Tuesday 12th March 2019


There was a young woman from Woking

Who desperately needed the loo

But the first one she tried was broken

And . . . er, the second was broken too.

Day 328. Monday 11th March 2019


I guess every now and then

In the history of Man

The defeats by subtle increments

Just become too many

And he decides he can't continue

So he just lies down and quits -

Or so he pretends.

But the thing about quitting is

We can always un-quit again.

And that time has come.

And just imagine if you will

What might happen if

We all un-quit together.

Day 327. Sunday 10th March 2019


I think it was good old Plato

Who put forth the mischievous idea

That people should have a say

In their own governance.

This appealed to the governed

But was regarded as a bit of a hassle

By those doing the governing.

And for well over two thousand years

History has been a tussle

Between those who agree they should

And the devious oiks

Who think they shouldn't.

Day 326. Saturday 9th March 2019


Down through the ages

And the turning of history’s

Blood-soaked pages

England has been conquered

And variously invaded

By Romans and Saxons

Norsemen and Normans,

All wielding spears

And bows and axes,

These ferocious fighters,

Bad hats and psychopaths.

But never before was she

Ever subjugated

By smiling hordes

Of Diplomats and Bankers

Wankers and Bureaucrats

In a conquest by increments

Slyly enacted.

And let’s not forget

Before history’s redacted

The ruddy psychiatrists,

For England first

Had to be drugged

And comfortably sedated

Before they could

Get away with it

Day 325. Friday 8th March 2019


Can somebody please advise me,

This question in sincerely meant:

What the hell is supposed to be

The product of a government?

Day 324. Thursday 7th March 2019


America it seems

Is following

The path of ancient Rome,

Its Patrician class

Wallowing in depravity,

Sinking into immorality

And ethical inferiority

At odds with and

Several strata lower

Than the tone

Of The People.

Day 323. Wednesday 6th March 2019


Life lived with a purpose