future

Boris Johnson as Delboy Trotter

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

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

welcome President Boris Johnson

Inspired by English exercise to write a news report

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.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

breaking news...

Stop telling me I can’t change the world

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

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

proved it

Abigor

Folder: 
Poetry

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.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Demonology poem.

View mvtsicky666's Full Portfolio

i can see the future

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.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

come and join in, seeing the future is easy

View suicideslug's Full Portfolio

Ascendancy

Folder: 
Hand Written
"To think, 
back when I had asked
the exhausted man looking back,
eyes bloodshot, 
 
cheeks lined with scruff,
sweat on brow,
mr. mirror, who are you? 
Why are you here?
 
To think, 
years ago, barely alive,
that five more since then
I'd be sitting in this chair, 
 
typing away like I once did,
amid all the vivid scenes
that replay in my head,
when I could be dead,
 
instead flit the pen,
the flutter it dances across the page,
signing
not my life away,
 
but my name,
in another book,
the fifth,
the poetry that has kept me alive,
 
kept me going,
from the time I wanted to die,
words spinning for no reason
to now,
 
hard to believe 
that perhaps destiny
kept me writing,
and I have succeeded.
 
Not in making it big,
not in making money,
but making art.
Five years apart."
Author's Notes/Comments: 

It's been a while! Please stay tuned for what's next! (Serious, this time!)

The Wind is Never Too Late

Folder: 
Wayward Motions

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

Author's Notes/Comments: 

After returning from a trip to the mountains I am finding myself in unrest. I miss the wind across my face. I miss the serenity of the forests. I miss many things and yet I aim to adjust the sails of reality and move forward. Hopefully, soon.

A Better Place, A Better Time

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.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

with inspiration drawn from beloved Javad, rest in peace. with intentions to direct those in need to the song A Better Place, A Better Time by Streetlight Manifesto

Letters

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.

View reminiscent's Full Portfolio