The Bell at the End of the World

Once more the cracked bell knolled
Beware this fate it told
No destiny sure as yours
Kept to your present course

It made its plaintive sound
To turn his path around
For most its call boomed clear
Use dialogue, not fear

Odd, though, to offer choice
In cold forged metal voice
When none was to be made
His path would not be swayed

His chosen mind-set steady
With finger poised and ready
Just one thing left to do
All sage advice eschew

A Brief History Of War

Some will recount from times before

That any countries wanting war

Sent soldiers to some other place

Engaging armies, face to face

 

Soon warships harried other fleets

And blasted forts on far flung seas

Then planes dealt death from out the blue

To faceless foes; and innocents too

 

Now leaders posture with sabres rattling

Distant missiles to do their battling

Madness called war; a button-press away

If inflated egos hold their sway

The UK General Election

A cross put on a paper

Seems simple in a way

Amazing, then, that this small act

Empowers each to have a say

 

The outcome isn’t as I’d hoped for

I’m quite worried by the result

But I can accept the majority view

That’s what it means to be adult

 

Some people see it differently

Wanting to impose a new regime

Cars, bombs and knives as weapons

Murdering to achieve their dream

 

Let them not take away our rights

Hold our laws and freedoms dear

They must not win by violence

We will not live in fear

 

If society is built on values

With some common moral code

Life and liberty are the bedrock

And democracy the road

A Fundamental Truth

 

dark sky

We knew it was to happen

Somewhere within a crowd

More terror visited uselessly

To try to make us cowed

 

The carnage and the mayhem

The tragic loss of life

This time a home-made IED

Last time a car and knife

 

What sort of mind can plan this

How mad must someone be

To be a bomb, a murderer

A lunatic running free

 

This cause cannot be justified

Though perhaps I waste my breath

There is no place in paradise

Secured through others’ death

 

 

 

 

Budapest’s House of Terror

A corner building, grey and stark

Casts terror in its shadow

And evil’s chill lingers still

From times, not long ago

 

Ghastly crimes committed here

Repelling, but so real

With torture’s sound, below ground

To bring people under heel