corruption

Callum Featherstone

Icarus

Do not bank on a lifesaver

Coming second, first or third

As tall and looming cabers

Scrape skies – hurried and absurd.

Tossed alongside shining sabre

Toothed-Tiger looking herds

They are timid after taming.

And self-righteous bees and birds

Practice surreptitious-slut-shaming

In a world of wizened words

Reduced fruitfully like raisins.

The acorn may be small

But it’s endeavour grows so mighty

From it’s branches to it’s trunk.

And the flock’s morning call

Along with wings so fit and flighty

Launch from their wooden bunk.

Just as Icarus looked down on all

Mankind’s eyes are blinded brightly

By a couping Parliament; whose ship has sunk

To a depth that Devils dare to fall

Which constricts forever tightly.

And makes – a fake of the monk.

Callum Featherstone

Myope

A vision:

Telecommunication from beyond the subconscious.

A message so clear it’s seen as obnoxious.

And as vivid in the mind as a car crash collision.

A warning:

Coalescing deep down within your psyche.

Killing love with a spike through Aphrodite.

On a tempestuous December morning.

Mud in the eyes of a colourless scene.

Blood on the thighs of a motherless dream.

But, still you refuse to see.

Callum Featherstone

Greedy guts

A glimmer

A memory of a memory

The flash of a camera bulb

As the anorexic chance gets slimmer.

Forgotten

Yesterday’s news is buried treasure

And X barks the dog

And the dog eats itself; rotten.

Avarice

Is devouring a banquet feast

Set out in front of a rough sleeper

Too famished to throw a fist.

Cupidity

Hunting with arrows for more

Material or maniacal power prêt à manger

Sustained solely by stupidity.

Callum Featherstone

Shock; Horror

Power down

But you never have chance to

Power down

Government changing hands too

Power down

It’s in their plans to

Power;

Us down

To push policy plans through.

Lightbulb

When you finally realise the state

Lightbulb

Ideas falling into place

Lightbulb

Won’t stay on in a darkened space

Lightbulb;

Dimming

Is our struggle and our fate.

Shock

Charge from a volt

Shock

Bank charge is your own fault

Shock

Electri-City company cult

Shock;

Horror

Cost of living insult.

Callum Featherstone

Empty stomach and larder

You can’t un-see

Once you’ve cut the red tape

You remain unfree

Shackled thoughts won’t escape.

When it doesn’t make sense

Whenever you listen

There’s no recompense, in a

Taxable war of attrition.

“You won’t have to suffer

If you’d just work harder!”

No nutritional buffer

For empty stomach and larder.

This so-called elite

I just don’t understand

They’d cut off your feet

And insist that you stand.

Callum Featherstone

Demockracy

There were selfish celebrations

While we were locked inside

Salubrious salutations

Meant irony did not hide.

Pain, anger and dirt fills

The way that we all feel

Going around in circles

Like a hamster in a wheel.

Once you’ve seen the bigger picture

You can never then return

To believing shallow scripture

That the bourgeoisie then burn.

It’s a time of utter travesty

And Orwellian hypocrisy

Getting hoodwinked by humanity

In deceptive dead demockracy.

Callum Featherstone

True Grit

The only way is up when rock bottom’s been hit

After your mind has been smeared from a fan full of shit

When life didn’t pan out quite exquisite

And you’re chewing real dirt tasting your own true grit.

It’s hard to be wholesome in a world so broken

Surrounded by sleeping minds afraid to be woken

Fractured leg-acies left bereft and unspoken

Whilst taken and took as a novelty token.

The denial of free thought and free speech through laws

Show the fights of the future won’t be physical wars

True freedom lives between those ears of yours

In the mind of a rebel who trebles their cause.

Callum Featherstone

Fortune?

Making the mark

But it’s benevolence burst

Daunting and dark

A world that awards the worst.

Respect; it retreated

Future is frantically fearful

Discussion gets deleted

Tumult is tyrannic and tearful.

Riding the rails

Halfway heaven and hell

Fighting yet frail

Fortune? Forever it fell.

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.

Callum Featherstone

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.