A synopsis

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A synopsis

Putin, the arrogant prick,
Thought his war with Ukraine would be quick
Yet despite the ferocity
Of Russia's atrocities
Their global position looks sick.

Politics of War

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Politics of War

The western world,
though not weak,
has elected spineless leaders,
lacking in moral fibre.
Where now
our dames de fer
when we need them?

Better by far,
to bite the bullet,
go short of food,
run out of fuel,
be cold,
have our lives
disrupted
in support
of our Ukranian neighbours.

More palatable this,
than to give
one cent,
one penny,
one ruble
to finance
the duplicitous,
warmongering
murderous 
activities
of the criminals
in the Kremlin.

Playground bully

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Playground bully

There's a bully in the playground
and he's picking on you, Cain.
We'd like to come and help, but
he might give us some pain.

He did it to our Mia,
threatening with his stick.
We couldn't help her either
and now she's pretty sick.

Smacking's not an option,
caning's not allowed;
we'll confiscate his sweeties
and bar him from our crowd.

We're sorry it's so little,
we dare not see him vexed
or when he's done with you, Cain,
we're going  to be next.

As you stand up to this bully,
you fill our hearts with pride,
behind the wall, we're cheering you
- you know, we're on your side.

The parable of the toys

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The parable of the toys

Once upon a time
a naughty little boy
stole a beautiful toy
from the nursery.
It didn't belong to him,
he just marched right in
with his toy soldiers
and he took it.

The other children were upset
but pretended not to be,
so that after a while
they kidded themselves
that they didn't like the toy
and they didn't want it anyway.

Years passed by
and when the naughty boy
realised that the other children
were not going to do anything,
except stamp their feet
and pretend they were a bit cross,
he stole another toy.
Then, when nobody still did anything,
he stole another and another
and he kept on stealing
until there were no more toys
left in the nursery
and all the children cried.

The naughty little boy-
well, he had all the toys in the nursery
but no one would play with him
because he was a bully,
so he cried too.

War

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War

When disagreements turn to war;
Result, invariably, a draw,
With bitter claim and counterclaim,
Thousands killed and yet more maimed.

Remind me of that final score
And what we all were fighting for.
As children cry and women grieve,
What did those unmarked graves achieve?

As years pass by, we soon forget
The reasons for this base roulette
But when the next cause comes, humane,
We stand and do it all again.

Death by human

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Death by human

Singly it's a homicide, a murder,
get you sent to purdah.  On mass,
massacre, butchery,
ethnic cleansing, genocide, inflicted
on oneself, then suicide.

State sponsored,
liquidation, assassination, legally
backed, then execution. Indisputably,
no gainsaying,
whatever way you look
at it, it's slaying.

Pen v Sword

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Pen v Sword

It's not for me, fighting,
I'll stick to my writing,
Discussion's the way to change things.
Not taming, inflaming,
Defaming or maiming
Or blaming, where mistrust begins.

Animal Behaviour

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Animal Behaviour

A bloodthirsty Viking
Took a bit of a liking
To plundering people by force,
His raping prowess
Was a bestial mess
And got worse when he married a Norse.

Audacity

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Hobbo: I’ve got a story for you this morning.

Dauphy: Not too long I hope, I’m due for a snooze.

Hobbo: Six words again. Remember, we only do six word stories.

Dauphy: Then I can have my snooze?

Hobbo: Yep.

Dauphy: Go for it!

Audacity

Fish in tank shoots killer whale.

Dauphy: Poor whale, that fish must be a warmonger.

Hobbo: No. It’s a fishmonger!

Dauphy: Can I have that snooze now?

The Unknown Warrior

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The Unknown Warrior
A million fell
You were chosen
A shortlist of four
From the Aisne, the Somme, Arras, Ypres
Draped in the flag
Of the country you died for
You were chosen
One cold November morning
In a small chapel in St.Pol
Brigadier General Wyatt
Chose you
A kings sword
A coffin of solid oak
Were chosen
Buried at the heart
Of an English abbey
In French soil
Amongst poets and kings
You are 
And will be
honoured 
for centuries to come
We salute the sacrifice
of you 
and all the comrades 
you represent
Thank you
For your choice
For your sacrifice.

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