One Liner Wednesday

One of the key problems today is that politics is such a disgrace. Good people don’t go into government. 

Donald Trump.

You said it Donald!


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Wordless Wednesday

November Yeats challenge: Day One

Well it’s November and I am joining Jane Dougherty in an alternative to the scary grown up NanoWritMo.

I agree with Jane that it is easier to write than get your book published, even self published. So I shall be joining her in writing a poem a day, fingers crossed, using a couple of lines which she will have picked from a WB Yeats poem.

The first lines chosen are 

“they will ride the North when the ger-eagle flies,

With heavy whitening wings, and a heart fallen cold:” —W. B. Yeats

 Jane’s first poem and her explation of this Alternative Challenge is here.

My first poem inspired by Yeats’s words is about Canadian/ North American First Nation, indigenous women, Inuit, Metis and Native American. Read about them here. 

 The disappeared.

They did not all ask to die

Not all had that choice

Some did just go, no reason why.

Others are lost without a voice.
They would blacken the Northern sky

If they could only be seen

Competing with magestic eagles as they fly

Empty shells of what they could of been.
They had little future but it was theirs.

Young, their wings not grown

Gone and authorities seem not to care

Cold lost souls, stolen lives they had never known.

The Day after Halloween

Image Found Here

The Day after Halloween

November  the  first and  he had  been left  behind

All witches, ghouls  and  ghost  had  returned home

Gone  every imp  and  devil, he  alone the  only  remaining of his kind.

Here amid  the  humans, what  was he  to  do  alone.

 He roamed  the  streets, haunted  the parks, prowled  the  shopping centre

He hung around  the  schools  looking  for like  souls to play  with.

He messed up children’s  rooms, upset teenagers, no door he couldn’t  enter.

He was  so lonely  and  bored  nothing on this  earth  any  joy  could give.

 After  a  while  when  the  demons  roll was called, finally he  was  missed

All hell was let  loose  where was  the  boy,  the  haunted  soul

Who would comfort him, could  a human  sooth him like a vampire  kisssed

Would  angels  find him  and  steal his  evil and make him something whole.

 So out  the  went  the hoards  of hell to search  the  world and search it  well

All  this  fuss  for just one  boy, because the  devil loves  his  own

The loss on Halloween was  more than he could bare, an  empty  space in  hell

Out  the Furies  went, they  found him and  took him  home.

 

 

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