By Scott Bailey © 2016
Water traces curves
Of showered, moist skin, fingers
Follow down to play

Water traces curves
Of showered, moist skin, fingers
Follow down to play
Buff is a box
An almost fraternity
They try to squeeze you in
At any cost.
Some of us
Obviously won’t fit
So are discarded
Straight away
We are the ones
To watch
We are the ones
That bring the change
We are the ones
To fear
Magical detonations
Stars dying
Dust flying
Seeding us
Not all explosions
Bring death
Sunlight pleases him
Teases him with memories
Blotting out real life
Catapults and boiled sweets
Sailing boats and jam jars
Watching tadpoles
Playing in the woods
Hunting newts
Swings and roundabouts
Wistful thinking
For the days
That never were
Tiny, warm, fragile
Fingers tightly holding mine
Treasured memories
Miracle needed
To save the earth from its doom
Songbirds hail the dawn
I am a ship
Crowded into the harbour wall
Anchored sound
And safe
But I can see the sea
Beyond the gap
Calling
Lulling
The storms come
The harbour shields
But still, I am tossed
And battered by
Uncaring waves
The chain is strained
The anchor holds
For now
So many storms I have seen
How many more
Before the chain breaks
Setting me free
Lost at sea
Sailing unfettered
Unmoored
Always descending, never ascending.
Moving downwards, moving down.
I can’t get used to this feeling
Moving downwards, moving down.
Is it really like this? What are we doing?
Do we really want this?
Is this the thing to be?
The chains that pull the valves and the levers,
That drive the steam through pipes of dreams.
Dream worlds falling, morning calling,
Pull the chains on, shoulder the yoke.
Down to business. Down to labour.
Moving downwards, moving down.
I don’t like this, what am I doing?
I don’t really want this, what is to be?
Enter the shaft that takes us downwards.
The light is dimming as our dreams descend
Calm your qualms
It’s all change
It’s all good
Still
The trembling
Still
Collaboration
Is knocked out of us
Systematically
In the school system
Filling us up instead
With competition
And greed
Perfecting us
As the ideal consumers
The perfect wheels in the
Machine
Those who hold the levers
Know
Collaboration
Could bring them down
If you liked this poem check out my novel – the theme of this poem is the central theme of the book – see below.
Trapped. In a world where everything is measured and control pervades every area of life, four people begin to break down. Instead, they break through the walls of deceit and propaganda and into a world of revolution.
Each, in their way, vow to overthrow the established order. They embark on a journey against the forces arraigned against them, forces of state and self-doubt.
Ultimately their paths converge on a dangerous road and the discovery of an ancient secret.
On one level this is a story about how different people react to the ever-growing and relentless pressure of everyday oppression. It explores their journeys as they are broken and rebuilt and investigates their modes and motivations for rebelling.
At another level, it is a critique on the darker side of capitalism and free markets and how that has driven us further and further away from the evolutionary advantage that gave us supremacy in the first place. It questions whether the human race has doomed itself or whether we still have the capacity to wrench ourselves from the track we have so tightly committed our society upon.
Read an excerpt here.
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Let not victory
Excite you too much, karma
Has her eye on you
Government Guide to Hospitality
We welcome you with open arms
If you can afford it
If not, go to hell
Sunset of the plain
Buffalo are running fast
Into leaden death
Keep them on the verge
Of being panicked
Keep them unsure
And afraid
Whip them into a frenzy
Then collect the coin they make
Prod them where you need them to go
Speaker throbs with bass
Notes leap higher and higher
Feedback thrills the crowd
The latecomer arrives
The straggler
Moving slowly and surely
Youth spent
Only to find
Everyone else departed
Leaving him
With only their mistakes
Behold the great eye
Watching through the trees, maybe
Just a butterfly
The tiger curses
Beautiful, perfect pelt
The hunter’s desire
Starlings swooping down
As they spy the big city
Wonders await them
On the cusp
Of hell and
Something else
Who knows what
I’m fresh out of spring
Beyond the long summer days
Winter is coming
We swing from lack of
Parlay to way too much talk
Blessing or a curse?
Let the wind blow me
On the course of its desire
The ocean’s freedom
I hesitate
Vacillate
Dissemble
Hold back
Yet the words I need
To express to you
Are bursting
In me
They need freedom.
I
I
OK
Here goes
Um.
Where did you go?
Maybe
The danger we face
The sheer wall of darkness
Will quicken the protest
Flesh the resistance
Hasten the day
The snowballing
Of the revolution
The ancient secret
Burns in our hearts and our blood
Obscured by sharp lies
If you really want to know the secret check out Mankind Limited
You say center
We say centre
You say color
We say colour
We are different
Guess that means
You will build a wall against us
Ban us
Make war on us
One day
“It was just a bit of fun”
To the broken hearts and home
“I meant no offence”
To the victims of riot and guns
“I was just following my dreams”
To the crushing weight of debt
“I will never do it again”
To the frightened wife and child
“I was trying to save some cash”
To the shattered future lost
“I thought I knew best”
To the chances that are gone
“My intentions were good”
To the consequences of action
Silk slides on the breeze
Meets the flow of sharpened steel
Leaves a perfect tear
Have you
Noticed
That the books
That teach us
How
To succeed at this
And
Win at that
Don’t teach us
Why
Meanwhile
Authors count their cash
The meteor dares
To kiss the flames of the sun
Then slingshots away
Sleek steel aperture
Widens for a brief moment
Exposing a truth
Thinking aesthetics
Is vaguely anaesthetic
Trying hard to write
Unseen, unheard, forgotten
We
The people
Scorned
Belittled
Bled
We see, we hear, nothing is forgotten
We
The people
Have dignity
Might
And reserves
I’m not capable
Of writing a good poem
Tonight. Worn right out
Someday, one day, soon
After that important thing
That I need to do
Little monkey clings
Tightly to his mother’s back
Ancient lizard flies
Life in unbalanced
Uneven
Unfair?
Karma is bunkum
Days, weeks, years of effort
For each small gain
Each small good
None reached with ease
While all around
The bad rains down
Good luck seems rare
Bad luck the normal
The scales uneven
It seems
This car is coasting
Familiar road ahead
Time to go off-road
Feel the space around
Everywhere that I can see
Breathe, release and live
Discovered knowledge
Treasured sweeter than any
Teacher could serve up
Dead enthusiasm
Passion for mundane labours
Seems to be required
Ring the bells of life
Every heartbeat tolling on
So jingle them well
Relax
It’s just the end of the world
Relax
As the wall tumbles down
Relax they say
It will all work out
In the end
If you down in the dumps
Smile
It’s the positive attitude
That wins the day
Which is just another way
To say
It’s your fault
Relax
It’s just the end of the world
Relax
As the wall tumble down
Relax they say
It will all work out
In the end
Tell that to the man
Asleep in the door
Tell that to the maiden
Dead on the shore
Tell it to the lonely
Tell it to the lost
To the OAP bitten by frost
Relax
It is the end