Boris Johnson as Delboy Trotter
By JFarrell
“El dolce est decorum…” he says
Waving a hand nonchalantly
Just because he uses Latin phrases
Doesn’t mean he’s using them correctly
Like Delboy with his French phrases
And his ridiculous heavy south London accent
The pronunciation exaggerated his ignorance
Of what he was saying;
Boris uses a posh accent
And everyone falls for the super-intelligence act.
If “Allo, Allo”, “Only Fools and Horses”
And “Upstairs, Downstairs” had a love child
Boris would be it.
Don’t laugh
With how our current prime minister is doing
He could be our next Prime Minister
Leading demand for a second referendum on Europe
Leading the Remain campaign
And he’d probably end up
The most popular prime minister ever
Inspired by English exercise to write a news report
In an astounding interview yesterday the Foreign Secretary, Boris Johnson, apologised for his involvement in the Brexit campaign.
He said “It is clear people were misled badly over the consequences of Brexit. I deeply and humbly apologize for my role in this deception and will do all I can to fix the mess I’ve made.”
He went on to say that he feels it is his “responsibility” to initiate a vote of “no confidence” in the Prime Minister, Teresa May. “In these times of crisis, it is clear that my Right honourable friend is not up to the task of providing the “strong and stable leadership” we need. El dolce est decorum… or some other meaningless Latin expression to baffle the stupid.”
When asked how he intends to fix it, he answered “I will urge for a second referendum and lead the Remain campaign.”
In response to this announcement LBC presenter and former UKIP leader, Nigel Farage, dragged himself away from his pint to say “I think it is a very noble and courageous act that Boris has performed today. It is bravery like this that demands my full support and convinces me that Boris would be an excellent prime minister.”
Michael Gove was unavailable for comment, though he could be heard screaming “Devious bastard!” from within his parliamentary office.
Stop telling me I can’t change the world
By JFarrell
Stop telling me I can’t change the world.
You know why one man can’t change the world?
Because everyone tells him he can’t.
Not me!
I am trying to act better.
How I act has an affect on how others act
And so on…
Ripples.
A butterfly flaps it’s wings here,
There has the monster of all storms.
You are reading my poem
That will have some effect on what you feel, what you think
However insignificant
Ripples.
I can and am changing the world.
And I just proved it.
You can change the world too.
Let’s make it better
Please
Grand Duke in Hell,
Appearing as a handsome man.
Knowing all the secrets of war,
Seeing the future, seeing it all!
Commanding 60 Legions of Demons.
I can see the future
By JFarrell
I can see the future;
Look up,
That cloud, there.
Not that one,
The one on the left.
Look, really look;
Can you see?
Wars; famines; disasters?
Weddings; parties; happiness?
Heartbreak; homelessness; despair?
Love, wealth, fulfillment?
How about the cloud on the left?
Look, imagine, dream, dare.
You can see the future too :)
Just dream and dare to dream.
The Wind is never too late
Minutes and hours may pool into an endless shadow clock
but She cares not for the tick tock tick tock
She has been cast into many worlds
With no hope to ever unfurl
Ravaged with unrest
We seek Her company but know not what is best
For Her
She curls Her arms in a lover's embrace
We reach out in hope
We leave with despair
To Her
we are a ghost of live's past
we are a measure of time She cannot understand
we become dust in Her shapeless lands
And yet... the Wind is never too late
She casts Her endless touch
Hoping needing yearning
She is here
She is now
She is always
(The past cannot present itself
when the future was never there)
Sadness beckons, widens, and burdens
And like a loose cannon
we shoot out into the distance
reaching out for anything
To hold
To conquer
To master
To love
But, The Wind... She knows
She is never too late
She catches our follies when we become one with the daisies
She carries our songs which blankets those worlds
She chronicles our stories and heralds them across endless sands
The Wind is here
The Wind is now
The Wind is always
For us
For Her
I glanced to see your empty seat not far
away from mine. I did not know you well
before your name marked every mind. I got
the news my freshmen year at Aries’ end.
The open casket frightens me, a fear
to peer inside. Depression lurks and maims
the ones we love, no way to say goodbye.
The cries I heard your mother make in words
I can’t describe. Your close best friend, a friend
Of mine, still thinks of you in times of light
and shade; He sits and waits for you to call:
the promise made, be kept today. I learned
from you don’t hesitate. To think of dreams
you’ll never have or places never seen,
I missed the chance to know your truth and who
you want to be. But now I see for me
to be the who I want to be; I must
help those like you live on, it’s not your time
to leave.
If I could write a letter to my past,
There are so many things I would say
If I could write a letter to my future,
There are so many things I would ask
I would say “it'll get better, stay strong!”
And that would be a lie
I would ask, “does it ever get better?”
And I would hope that it does
I would say “you're strong, you can hold the world on your shoulders!”
And that would be a lie
I would ask, “did you make it through this?”
And I would hope the answer's yes
If I could write a letter to my past,
I would only be able to lie
If I could write a letter to my future,
I don't think I'd want a reply
We endured so much in the past,
Scraping by, clawing through the dust and into what we thought was sunlight
We'll have endured so much in the future,
And hopefully we'll have emerged in the moonlight
We suffered so much pain in the past,
But it feels like nothing but a sliver under our skin compared to now
We'll have suffered so much in the future,
That if we're still around I will truly be shocked
If I could write a letter to my past,
I wouldn't warn them
If I could write a letter to my future,
I wouldn't ask for help
Because this pain is what makes us who we are,
This pain defines us,
It binds us and shackles us to our broken version of reality.
If I could write a letter to my past,
I wouldn't give help
I wouldn't warn them of the dangers to come,
Because that pain, the pain that defines my very reality
Is all I have left.
And if I could write a letter to my future, I wouldn't ask for help,
I wouldn't ask for a heads-up or a warning of everything to come,
Because that pain, the pain that defines my very life,
Will continue to antagonize my every breath,
Leading me to become someone beyond our imaginations.
If I could write a letter across time,
There wouldn't be much in it,
Because if there was,
Those letters wouldn't be addressed to me,
They'd be addressed to someone completely different,
Someone who hasn't suffered the pain that defines me.
I need that pain.
Without that pain, me wouldn't be me.