Night-time neurons gnaw
Thoughts never negate their nous
Nocturn natterjacks
Nocturnus
Author: Callum Featherstone
2022 is 1984
When you’re told what to think
By populist rhetoric and martial law
When you’re told when to blink
Twenty twenty two is nineteen eighty four.
When your mental health’s on the brink
From constant pressure galore
And your heart starts to sink
Twenty twenty two is nineteen eighty four.
When your only relief is drugs and drink
And your spirit is broken to its core
As they dismantle every link
Twenty twenty two is nineteen eighty four.
When your future’s as bright as invisible ink
Wondering; is it really worth fighting for?
When dreams so big are forced to shrink
Twenty twenty two is nineteen eighty four.
The Light
When you fear your future’s faded
When you’re growing grey and thin
When your chips have all been traded
And you feel you’ll never win
When you start to wane and wallow
In intrepid, toxic times
There’s a light for you to follow
A light inside you shines
It’s a light that fills your soul
And makes you who you are
Brightens the bleakest, blackest hole
Heals the deepest, darkest scar
In the corpus of commotion
Let that beautiful beacon beam
Across the unforgiving ocean
From the lighthouse of your dreams.
My first haiku
Poetry is fun
And relief from life’s stresses
Let fly winged thoughts.
Pen & Sword
Sword says to Pen
“I’m tougher than you,
A cock to your hen.
You’ll suffer for true.”
Pen says to Sword
“I embrace what I’ve heard
And for your reward
I gift you my words.”
Sword was most pleased
Thinking Pen was relenting
And Sword’s bluster ceased
From the furious venting
But Pen sat and smiled
Knowing words can’t be owned
And Sword then beguiled
Had now been dethroned
Pen to Sword whispered
“Words belong to one and all,
Every madam and mister,
And pride comes before the fall.”
Profit for a Phalse Prophet
Isn’t it funny?
What people will do for money
The world still turns
No matter how much we earn
You can preach the scriptures
Or take some erotic pictures
But the only one that wins
Is a banker or a prince
Cause you’ll never matter at all
To those with collateral
And you can spend your time working
But the rich will suck your worth in
Our essence has been thwarted
By corporations who purported
Unrealistic rumours
That…
It’s quintessential to be consumers.
Distraction taco
Smoke and mirrors wed
Inhaling reflected tobacco
Getting filled with dread
By a distraction taco
Take your eye off the ball
As they bounce you out
While they have it all
And the truth you doubt
Political Punch
Overflowing the jug
Crumbled credit crunch
Swept under the rug
When you watch TV
Believing their proof
Blinded by fuckery
And don’t see the truth.
The less you know
The more that you learn
The less you know
People grow concerned
Like Pinocchio’s nose
Falsity is believed
By conduit of media
Minds malicious; mislead
Fear amplified by tedium
They turn us into drones
While we fly their flags
Social media, iPhones
Distracting hashtags
It’s a sad situation
Absurd and obscene
For a blinded generation
Watching television screens.
For my Mum
From Bentinck Court
To Bramley Road
You gave support
And love bestowed
From Infants at Standhill
To Uni at Goldsmiths
You lent a hand still
My bowed head, lift
When times were tough
You had my back
When seas were rough
You steadied the mast
I love you Mum
And I wish to say
To end, in sum
Happy Mother’s Day
Springing To Life
Blossom on tree
Sun reappears
Birdsong happy
Bunny rabbits ears.
Daffodil smiling
Rosy cheeked faces
Smiles compiling
In everyday places.
Temperature rises
People feel less sad
Potential surprises
Happiness is had.
Winter long behind
For old and for young
Freshness in mind
Now Spring has sprung.
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