poetic justice

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POETIC JUSTICE POLITICS, PRIDE AND PURGATORY… A SELECTION OF NURSERY RHYMES FOR adults BY SPIRIT DE LA MARE aka Li’l Literati PDF Created with deskPDF PDF Writer - Trial :: http://www.docudesk.com

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Politics, Pride & Purgatory A selection of nursey rhymes for adults. By Spirit de la Mare

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Page 1: POETIC JUSTICE

POETIC

JUSTICE POLITICS, PRIDE AND

PURGATORY…

A SELECTION OF

NURSERY RHYMES FOR

adults

BY SPIRIT DE LA

MARE aka Li’l Literati

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Page 2: POETIC JUSTICE

Once upon a time… There was a very

little girl, with very

big ideas.

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Page 3: POETIC JUSTICE

This book is dedicated to me, for all my hard work and

dedication.

B.I.R.O.N

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Page 4: POETIC JUSTICE

Tick Tock

An ever ticking clock.

Orbits like cupped hands filled with abounding treasure. Each orb; a note within a symphony of inspired dedication,

Rotating in harmonious splendour. Surely more than a series of chance encounters?

More than a haphazard mistake, that birthed an accidental perfection. Within such an epic rendition; a union of minds,

A marriage of thoughts, within this ever blazing furnace of time. But how this solace becomes superfluous,

In comparison to such enormity. Just an echo of events past,

Rebounding off the invisible mirrors of fate. For as I drown in moments of my own,

Great oceans shift and alternate worlds align. An ever ticking clock, or never ending time!

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Arrested Development

In an institution,

I exercise my rights, Told never to speak,

Attempt silence with spite. I am who I am,

Yet opinions are suppressed, And I crave no acceptance,

But words they arrest. Ideas and aspirations,

Mean nothing without face, And they have no control,

Of me or this place!

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Thirsty work

Paranoia and heart-wrenching pain, Thirsts are quenched,

Not with water but gain. How to stand and where to sit,

There is no revolution, But we still wont admit:

That we’re groomed from the start, And through to the finish,

As time rolls on, Our souls we diminish.

Supposed freedom, We all live the lie,

Most know no different, On our pain we rely.

And solitude it seems, For sure is rife,

As our truth rots away, And we crawl through life.

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Strive for truth

When I walk through the street, I walk with pride,

With my head held high, For my conscience is clear.

I know my truth, Love, walk and lie with my truth,

Live my truth. I own it!

But I share it… With everyone I know.

Forced to walk bare-foot, In corridors of broken glass.

But still I live, With honesty and clarity of conscience.

Therefore when I come to rest, Reaching the summit of a mountain well climbed, Breathing in the glorious view, of a life well lived,

A life of truth… I rest, I rest well, and die with honour. I lie with truth and dream with Gods,

Side by side.

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New world order

(part one)

I left the old perception, Behind, and with old dreams,

Left beside an ideal, Continuous flow upstream.

I view the new world, Drowned in all I’m seeing, Find clarity in such chaos,

Prevent the worst from being.

There are no longer warriors, Or strength within the crowd. Just post-modern cowards,

That we have allowed, To be our decision makers, And rulers of most things.

From weakness, stems fear, And the feared become kings!

There is no justification, For what has become,

But take heed the lessons, As we move to ‘kingdom come’.

A critical imbalance, And such dissolution.

Institutions never challenged, Content in confusion.

Idiocy now reigns, In a false and fragile world. Forced to fight for nothing,

Within this pit that we’ve been hurled!

The battle is not yet won, So trust in strength of mind,

For all the love of irony, The surveyors become the blind.

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New world order

(part two)

It seemed and was, Just another day.

Same old struggle, In the same old way.

But on this day, The past ate tomorrow.

For many in ‘the struggle’, The future meant sorrow.

Like many before, Pride and spite took hold.

Of disillusioned minds, That were promised gold!

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Pride

When I am consumed by the ache of regret, My spirit devoured in time, I sit crying into barbed wire.

At least I have something that’s mine! I think deeply of such pride, Like a friend I allow to win.

The glorious ‘kingdom of pride’! Where I am not the king.

Tears are less than meaningless, Pathetic as they run from you!

Imprisoned in castles of wretched pride, With moats of waters blue.

The mystery of why, I allow his win, As curious as why tears flow. The rivers that no one sees,

And the madness that no one knows! A forever shut door.

Behind which I cannot be found. And no one will ever find me,

Nor allow themselves be bound! No lock, no key, no cryptic codes.

A door sealed tight by pride. A steadfast door of ash,

Opens only from the inside! An antidote begins to muster. But I have no hands or feet! A step was close to taken,

But that step became a seat. I am week, tired and too proud to try,

Seems pride will win again! A never changing monotony,

‘tis I forever will blame. Trapped within castles of pride, I bleed tears into barbed wire. Four walls of towering pride, And bridges of raging fire!

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Bete Noir

So often I am saddened,

By disregard of moments, Anger at the viewer,

For lack of acknowledgement! Faith be with you,

For I see none. Lost opportunities,

And lessons you shun! For that dishonour,

And disregard: Your struggle is wasted

On work done hard. Such arrogance played,

And love delayed. Buried in regret,

And respects that fade!

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I killed Piaf

So sick with this sadness, I’m just left to wonder why, Left so week and powerless,

And all I do is cry. So sick of such mourning,

And darkened hollow inside, For the friend I have no more, To hold and stand at my side.

So sick of such solitude, At this time it’s all I see, I’d give away my soul,

If, for just a moment you could be. So sick I am without you, My heart so badly dented,

Drowned in a world without you, With memories I am tormented.

So sick as I need you, For even just one second, The pain hit much harder,

Than I could have ever reckoned. So empty a life without you,

If only love could give you life, More than ever before,

Full of anger, pain runs rife. So sick I am of dreaming,

Of seeing a glimpse of your face, The loneliness wont leave,

Left to rot within this place. As without you it is nothing, And time forever stands still, They say that time’s a healer,

So wait on I will.

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Trapped

I’m trapped in a box,

Knelt down tight, Crying my eyes out, For my life I’ll fight.

For as I cry, The box it fills, With my tears, It overspills.

‘Till I’m drowned, Still trapped in my box,

Dead in my tears, And the lid remains locked!

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What a pity

Once again look, at what I know so well, It burns and it screams, and puts my soul through hell!

I sit as a witness, as it’s gutting me inside, I stare into space, and now I know why.

I feel it crumbling, and churning each part, It hollows and chills, what is left of my heart.

I know it well, to rid of it I’ve tried. A back-stabbing demon in whom I confide. It scratches and tears, as I loose my mind.

A route of escape, I wish I could find. A darkened chasm, into which I fall.

Death wont save me, so through it I crawl. I aim to muster strength, but the pain hits hard,

Breathless with this weight, and keeping this façade. I’m sure that most, know not of this hollow,

But I’ll be ‘your’ demon, if you wish to follow. I’ve tried to forget…on with the new.

But ‘good’ feels dirty, and loved ones are few. A real soldier stays, with devils ‘till the end,

Perhaps it’s been so long, on this war I now depend.

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Oops… (Love revelations part one)

You wear it on your face, The pain of your mistake.

Within denials reign, Your honour you forsake.

How a downfall flows, Inexorable, eventual right.

Act as the enemy, Your fear to loose the fight!

How clear you view, the assault of regret. You’ve knowingly lost your way.

And what you never had still hurts, For mistakes we always pay! You’ll loose the very soul,

That fought for better to be. And aware I know you are, Of the pain you know I see.

Life in fear of an angels touch, Ignore the blessings there. Hate yourself so deeply,

And lie that you don’t care! Suppress the angst I know you have,

Drown in your ‘puddle’ of fear. Its not for me, I cry for sure, But for you I cry each tear!

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Reflections (love revelations part two)

I ponder where I often sit, Of you and me, and them.

Of rights and wrongs, we wont admit, Seems never how but when.

We better times that never were, The dreams we didn’t share. False memories, just a blur,

And luck is just so rare. With winnings that you’ll never gain,

And wisdom we cant say. Regret lives within the pain

We‘ve more than dues to pay. Soon the image will more than fade,

And never, we understand why. Mistakes we say we never made,

And tears we didn’t cry!

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Analysis of dream (love revelations, part three)

Glancing in amazement,

For once I see, Chances of such promise,

And places I could be. But I’m encased in glass,

And lying in slumber. No matter what will, Hurdles do cumber!

Thinking much of time, Things not done, not said,

Dreaming as always, And full of dread.

The glass it does blur, The clarity outside, Oh! How I miss out, As I choose to hide. I move just a little,

And view way up high, A hole in the glass,

Through which I spy. I see first the moon,

Like I’ve never known, And hard I try,

To except what’s shown. For once it seams, I grasp and see,

The way things are, And how they could be. Did I choose this way;

To live boxed in? So wrong a life,

that’s yet to begin. Such a struggle,

To lift from my slumber, As I gain momentum,

To courage, fears out number. But now at least,

I am glad to know, The glass will be broken,

And outside I’ll go.

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Becomings

Have you ever become the sun, and smiled so brightly, that you give life to a broken world and brittle dreams?

Have you ever become the wind, so relentless, so enraged, so unwilling, and swept up in self turbulence?

Have you ever become a cloud, cried a flood of tears, and cast over wandering smiles? However, within such becomings, your generosity and benevolence persists, and myths

and moments manifest. You are the sun, the wind, clouds and rain.

Not a soul can live without you. I return to earth without you.

So I may at least; bathe in the sun, be moved by the breeze, And be cleansed by your tears.

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The kiss…

An angled execution, And death and absolution,

And shame and stress and torment, Oh! How you just confuse them.

Talent, fear and longing,

Crave a sense of belonging, Crime and confusion,

Times just so shocking!

Sacrifice and justice, Wont you just miss this…

…never just one kiss!

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Page 20: POETIC JUSTICE

Billet-doux

Without you, there is but barren land, An arid desert of coarse dry sand,

A lost lake, that’s bed cracks with the strain. A bird without feathers dies within the rain. You are my truth, that never becomes lies,

And without you here… Everything dies.

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Page 21: POETIC JUSTICE

Soul stitching

If tears were blood red, You’d understand how you’ve cut me!

Tears are the blood from your soul. When my soul’s blood, runs down my face.

I know then… You are not worth anything from my soul!

Not tears, not the blood that pours when I’m cut. The only people worth bleeding for would never cut you.

They would be stitching up your wounds before they were made. They would cry ‘for’ you, allow their soul to bleed, so yours doesn’t have to.

They heel you…and don’t they just!

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Mark my words

Don’t you dare break my heart, Else mark my words,

Your soul will cry forever. Fears of tears and tears of shame,

But every one is tarnished! I tattoo my tears on your pale skin, A memorial of part of me that died.

The etching of tears, As we kiss for the last time! I scar you with my words,

To mark the disgrace of your mistake, Forced to remember, this injustice forever.

Held in this moment, as I am too. I can still smell ‘my’ tears on your skin.

The tears that are no more. We will be together forever!

Forever in ‘never-more’!

The pain maker

The lashing whip slashes, Hard upon your skin,

Engraved, sharp scratches, Painful is the sin.

The hard, harsh hands, Slap your tender face. Deep, the knives cut,

Keeping with the pace. The grave, heavy stones,

Bang hard against your side, Not willing to be rescued, And ever trying to hide.

The words that are yelled, With no thought in your mind,

These, they truly hurt, In this world, where I am tried!

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Step by step

It disgusts me how we beat them, ‘till the blood sprays on the face, It disgusts me how we treat them,

Its pain, and life’s a waste! It sickens me to know us, The cruelty and the shame,

With no excuses, We’re proud to take the blame!

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Purgatory manifest

Here; birds hunt hard, and bitten fruits fall. Blooms entwined with horror, with serpents I crawl. As pests quiver silently, oozing poison from a plant, Living within such hell, its claimed that you can’t.

Where roots are strangled, with branches of their own, And leaves wrap cunningly, as the wind is blown.

Where creatures of the darkness, move erratically with shame, And seeds of flowering hatred, are fuelled by the pain.

Where piercing screams are swallowed, and hearts of love consumed, Hands collect the downfall, and buds of rage are bloomed.

Where nothing and all is falling, and life not what it seems, Death curdles sweetly, and the sun without a beam. Heartless creatures wander, and venom stings the air,

Bitten and hate ridden, for a life that seems unfair. And as serpents crawl beside me, I feel just the same,

Drowning in the downfall, of poison in the rain.

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Cauliflower and chocolate

I bit a hole in her arm, And peeled back her face.

A face laced with shame and disgrace! Plunged pounding thumbs, through her guilty eyes,

And watched tears of thick blood roll. Mocking the Mother Mary, For these tears were false!

‘She didn’t have a chance to cry’

I used my hand like a warriors spear, And plunged it deep into her naval,

Digging deep for something worth while! Nearly through and through, I took hold her spinal chord,

Pulled the spineless wench’s bones, Through the powerless stomach I’d flawed!

Left like a limp fish, now paralyzed of course, The paralyzing pain that I had felt before!

Not a guilty twinge, numb and without remorse. With divinity ‘twas condoned, more than just primitive law.

I left her by the roadside there, With congealed blood and dishevelled hair.

Streams of blood rolled down hill, Into swamps of demons; that are better still!

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London

Thrown into the pits of hell, Ravished by flesh eating hounds, Devoured by sorrow’s serpents, A place called ‘lost and found’. Putrid roads soaked in death,

Gold teeth & daggers but ‘guns are best’! Blood filled waters drank like wine, Supposed freedom and rights divine.

A dancing temptress and lustful queens, Dirty boys with dirtier dreams,

A ‘people plagued’ solitude & tumoured minds, Death breeds death, as the blind lead the blind.

Dance with the minions & then laugh when they fall, Make you punish yourself; the worst pun’shment of all.

Welcome to the pits of hell, even god can’t save you now. Tread carefully my dear…in glorious London town!

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The war within

A gold plated army, march through the veins of demons. The control that once was, is left for you dreamers.

Like tumble weed you roll through time, A meatless carcass bathing in sunshine.

Heart broken, paranoid and bitten, scrambling in the gutter. With blistered fingers sifting; I think of my mother!

I’ve become just a vulture, oh, why my fortress crumbled? Wading through devils, I fell before I stumbled.

Invasion was imminent, and they feast I my brain. Just a shell is left now, as nothing but ruins remain!

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Page 28: POETIC JUSTICE

Changes

All the time residing, Do you need reminding,

Of this constant confiding, In words that make no sense.

May is seem a blessing, To practice confessing, Used to suppressing,

Every phrase that I write.

And how this condition, Of constant repetition, Sets out the mission,

To conduct a new line!

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Page 29: POETIC JUSTICE

Promises

Could you ever love me, Like pettled kisses can?

Like a rose-flushed, cherished autumn, Or a young sweet tender man?

Could you conceive a life,

Of the truth that I maintain? Beliefs that you should die for,

Though all you’ve known is pain?

Could you stand beside me, And know that we are right?

Never fear the fearful, Its them you know we fight!

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Man-datory

Maybe I too, will be a man, When I learn to leave,

Those I love, And let them grieve!

Maybe I too, will be a man, When I touch where I ought not,

When all of my decency, I seem to have forgot!

Maybe I too, will be a man, When through teeth I lie,

Exaggerate myths of heroes, And sit and watch you cry! Maybe I too, will be a man, When I abuse my power, Hurt those more fragile,

Though above them I tower! Maybe I too, will be a man,

When I pull that trigger, And all because it makes me,

Feel that much bigger! Maybe I too, will be a man, Make you make choices, You can’t possibly make, With brute force exactly, Your innocence I take!

Maybe I too, will be a man, When others I abuse,

Discriminate, humiliate, And power I misuse!

Maybe I too, will be a man, When I beat you down, Laugh as hearts break,

In the tears you’ll drown! Maybe I too, will be a man, When I shatter your trust, Forever, and for anyone,

And degradation is a must!

When I learn to hate, And take all I can,

Maybe I too… …will then be a man!

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Broken Skin

One step closer, to who you are, And who you’re meant to be, Five steps forward in time,

And an inch from being free. Ten steps backwards, on broken ankles.

The air of shame; pumps through fat filled veins.

A better future witnessed, Although through ‘puffy’ eyes.

And a ‘chubby’ little finger, Points and lingers as your guide.

Too many steps; on a route that’s far too hard. Gorging on the sadness, that ever fuels such madness.

The constant trying and striving,

As I am always to fight her. Armed with weaponry,

But the greed delights her. A constant hunger that builds up a barrier.

A cushioned defence, you wish was past tense.

Pathetic desperation, To be ‘more’ than you are.

“Please don’t fail”, When you’ve come this far! A constant repetitive battle,

Clinging on the edge, with fingers raw and red.

Not a step closer, Now only further behind. I’m still within said battle,

The same, but forward in time!

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Page 32: POETIC JUSTICE

©SPIRIT DE LA MARE AKA. LI’L LITERATI

B.I.R.O.N. OF LONDON.

2010.

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Page 33: POETIC JUSTICE

Spirit de la Mare is a poet, writer and illustrator based in East London. This is her first collection of poems, written between the ages of eleven to fifteen. To view more of her work, a full artist’s biography, and for all enquiries please visit www.bringontheink.com. Also of note: www.thegreatadventuresoflilliterati.blogspot.com www.spiritdelamare.blogspot.com www.spiritdelamare.wordpress.com www.chaptervii.wordpress.com

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