Poetry – Putin’s Dust

Putin’s Dust

Bedding to ashes

                Houses to dust

Sure and certain

                Cities resurrected

Traumatised people

                Suffer eternally.

Pounded to rubble

                Killed to be saved

Liberators in khaki

                Dispensers’ of death

Following orders

                Mindless madness.

Committed to the ground

                Flesh to earth

Pulverised

                To pulp

Grandiose plans

                Paranoia and power.

Curtains to ashes

                Children to dust

Futures to earth

                Hope to rust!

Dreams dissolved

                Horrors unleashed.

Time does not heal!

                Time does not heal!

                                Time does not heal!

Time just moves on.

                It moves on

                                And takes the stains with it.

Opher – 31.3.2022

War traumatises all who come into contact with it. It traumatises. It breaks minds. It ruins lives

The jigsaw puzzles cannot be put back together.

Minds are broken, damaged.

There is a stain that lasts forever.

It damages the victors as much as the victims.

Putin will suffer.

Is this why we put psychopaths in charge? Because they have no feelings for the suffering they instigate?

Is this why we elect sociopaths because they enjoy inflicting pain?

Are these leaders human?

Do they not become disturbed by the death and suffering they unleash?

Cities are rebuilt but the stains remain.

People cannot be rebuilt. The survivors are often the unlucky ones.

Part of them is forever destroyed.

War.

Nothing can ever be normal again.

Putin living to regret what he has done?

Is Putin receiving misinformation?

Are all his close clique living in fear and feeding him what he wants to hear?

Will the sanctions hit the Russian economy?

How many dead Russian troops are there?

How many tanks, planes and vehicles have been blown up?

What will India and China do?

Has NATO some responsibility for this?

What about these Ukrainian neo-Nazi groups?

Will Putin ever end up in the Haigh to be tried for war crimes?

Will there be a regime change in Russia?

Will the Russian people eventually see through the propaganda Putin is spewing out?

Why is China spewing out that same pro-Russian propaganda?

When the body bags and stories all come back to Russia will the Russian people find the courage to rebel?

How long can the repression and oppression last in the face of death and severe austerity?

Why do the Russian people tolerate such gross inequality (Putin and Oligarchs have billions while most Russians live in poverty) (mind you, we do the same – just at a slightly higher level)?

Will Ukraine come back to bite Putin or will he go on to take over Ukraine and other countries?

Poetry – Missiles and Bombs

Missiles and Bombs

Missiles and bombs

                Falling like rain

Soaking the cities           

                Dissolving to dust.

Soldiers and death

                Filling the graves.

Emptying homes

                Mocking the just.

Escalating.

                Upping the ante.

No end in sight.

Destruction

And terror

An endless fight.

Saving face??

                No way out!

Existential threat?

                Brutal lout.

Opher – 23.3.2022

The Ukraine war is not going the way Putin had hoped. The liberator from the Nazi regime finds himself a fascist invader and figure of hate.

What was going to be a simple take-over has proved to be anything but. Instead of an incisive thrust Russia is in an existential crisis.

Nothing has gone to plan.

Death and destruction. We’re into a long war of contrition.

Putin is the rat trapped in the corner.

Poetry – The Long Table

The Long Table

Cowering in his bunker

                At the end of a long table.

Fist full of death.

                Escape? He is unable.

Putin the oppressor

                Fake news and conspiracy.

Dealing out destruction

                Deaf to every plea.

Opher – 23.3.2022

I had a picture of Putin cowering at the end of his long table, distancing himself from the world, isolated and alone.

He looked weak, threatened and pathetic.

This was a man scared of his own shadows.

All he had left was a desire to hit out.

Poetry – History Repeats

History Repeats

History repeats.

Lessons are never learned.

Fascists arrogantly strut.

Our cities burn.

The racist chants

Echo down the streets.

Frightened people keep quiet,

Civilisation retreats.

Politicians stir,

Seeking power.

Behind locked doors

Poor people cower.

The tribal game

Is played out again.

Every single person

Feels the pain.

Opher – 27.7.2020

When will we ever learn?? The same authoritarian garbage tinged with xenophobia and racist. It is always the same simplistic answers; the aggression; the fear; the anger; the wish to dominate and control; the wish to apply force; the scapegoating, superiority and arrogance.

We are faced with the rise of the right-wing with their racial purity and guns. Strutting with their violence, intolerance and aggression.

Fascism rises up and creates war. It has to be crushed back down.

Oh for an education system that creates empathy and compassion.

That would put an end to fascism. Much better than guns and bombs.

Fascism is a disease.

Poetry – The Brigands

The Brigands

The brigands charged down the hill,

Swords raised,

With chilling battle cries,

Thundering hooves.

Callously and gleefully they butchered men, women and children,

Set fire to huts,

Raped, tortured and looted.

But those were the days of long ago.

Nothing changes.

Except, now they use drones

And ‘peace keepers’.

Opher – 12.7.2020

Once upon a time we built walls around our cities and had fortified castles; we raised armies and kept constant watch.

What a way to spend your life – in fear of brigands.

They’d sweep down with their armies, killing, torturing, looting and raping.

Nowadays we’re much more sophisticated. We do it from afar.

Poetry – Playing games

Playing games

Faded Empires,

Playing games

With millions of pawns.

Complex machinations

For power and wealth

In an incandescent storm.

Intrigue, threats and death,

Brinkmanship

Arrogance and scorn.

Played out across the globe,

Devoid of compassion

Greed, selfishness, care-worn.

Unseen puppet masters

Guide us through

Creating poverty and war

With paid brawn.

Inbuilt superiority,

Illusions of grandeur,

All in-born.

They play their power games

Of self-importance –

The devil’s spawn!

Opher – 13.6.2020

There is a big global game being played by powerful privileged people.

We are pawns.

Huge wealth is deployed.

They gamble with the future.

They use poverty and war as tools.

They exploit, cheat and control.

It is mega politics – beyond the politics of mere nations.

Poetry – Reign of Terror

Reign of Terror

Planting bombs,

Planning wars,

Inciting hatred,

All part of the plan.

Sewing division,

Using inequality,

For the sole gain

Of the elitist clan.

Using religion,

Elections and politics,

For the benefit

Of this selfish man.

It is time

We put a stop

To this reign of terror

Spread through this human span.

Opher 13.6.2020

If we are intelligent creatures we should be able to find a way to live on this planet together, without fear, for mutual benefit. We should be able to coexist with all the other forms of life without displacing them, making them extinct.

If we were truly intelligent I think we’d find a way to banish poverty and create harmony.

If we were intelligent.

Chris Riddell – War

The Russians have only one way of waging war – they pound and bomb cities into rubble! They kill and terrorise innocent citizens. It’s disgusting, brutal and inhuman. What are they hoping to gain? They make people hate them. They will never be able to keep and rule the land. They are making a wasteland out of a civilised country!!

Time for all wagers of war to be dragged before international courts – including the UK and USA!!

We need an international justice system that banishes war. We need a UN with teeth!!