For Whom The Bell Tolls (The Centre Seethes)


By Ewan
- 199 reads
At The Bell,
summoned by the toxic tocsin
of click-bait, hot-take
pseudo-politics,
proud under flags and banners
emblazoned with broken English slogans
are the disenfranchised and disillusioned,
the deaf to argument, the dead to empathy,
and the balaclava-ed bravos
lifting their boots to cars.
And parliament's tone deaf ear
hears nothing but the dynamo hum
of the broken wheels of industry,
tries to pretend Britain is still imperious,
sends the Police left and right
to quash demonstrations peaceful and not so
- unless or until populism eats itself.
Meanwhile the centre seethes,
the c-word dying on their lips -
the idea that dare not speak its name:
compromise.
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Comments
Compromise and friendship
Heartfelt and heartbreaking - whatever the middle ground is, let's scatter it with poppies and walk on it together before it becomes a battlefield
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Danger stranger. The rise of
Danger stranger. The rise of Reform on a racist wave does not bode well.
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Discontent
always follows a finger pointing blame, forgets to scrutinise owner of the digit.
Considered and taut piece.
As you noted in another sharp poem, too many flags.
And too many tribes.
Best as ever
Lena
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This is our very well
This is our very well deserved social media Pick of the Day
Please share far and wide
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Distils the thoughts and
Distils the thoughts and fears of many I suspect, great piece.
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