I Can Not Write Poetry - Andy Scorah (each kindness read aloud txt) 📗

Ode to Past Future Past
A Poem by Andy Scorah

The whispering voices of past times
lead us to a knowledge of future crimes
we live in a world raped by greed and desire
with corrupt power to burn in etherial fire

A world drowning in the deeds of man
Save us from Kings with a dasterdly plan
Smoke and mirrors are the games they play
And we are the pawns to be held in sway

Pain and hardship are their stock in trade
we better pull together to make the grade
In the pages of history our voices will fade
And the freedoms of our ancestors we will have betrayed.


The Last Gentleman Tramp
A Poem by Andy Scorah
"
Just a little ditty to our local city Tramp Tbag Pete, In the uk we call them tramps I changed it to Hobo for my American freinds,prefer Hobo anyway,more elegant than tramp and Pete is a Hobo.
"
You roam Dylan's land
with your swag bag in hand
looking for a place
you move with such grace

A freeman of the land no idea of sin
part of a people that don't fit in
not bound by the cages of lifes light within
about the streets like a modern day Huckleberry Finn

In Swansea town
you wear the crown
unofficial King of the Hobos would make you frown
part of the landscape wearing a Hobos gown

At night in the drinking quarter
you stand and watch the beer fueled slaughter
and listen to the music like an ethereal hawker
no slave to that night or whore of the daily dustbin porter

Tbag Pete they call you but is that your name
You did not ask for this kind of fame
You did not want to join in the game
So wander you do wearing no shame

With your life so free
and empty of worrying chi
I just wanna say don't you see
we should envy you Mr Hobo life's absentee.


Tomorrow Today
A Poem by Andy Scorah
"
Kids of today tomorros leaders.
"
As I walk these roads on broken heels
I look around and wonder what I really feel
Beneath the veil of silent tears
My soul is bared with all its fears

While the dogs of war cry havoc
bringing on the harbingers of black luck
I see the cities and towns pass me by
leave each border with a timeless sigh

What scares me most in these troubled times
The youth of today skanking for dimes
Kids having kids with no sense of shame
Living a life so full of melodrame

From Beijing to Boston its all the same
Kids killing kids for sleights of respect fortune and fame
And who is to blame
Look in the mirror the blame has your name

And so the journey goes on
time passes and soon it is gone
What future there is
is in the hands of kids that kill kids.


Alternative Alien Aliteration
A Poem by Andy Scorah
"
Empty of mind and let each word come into life all by itself.
"
Crude crunchy creatures
Licked lucky leaches
sitting silently sleeping

Farmers falling far
Part patterned pavements
Attenuated attention attrition

Cars calling carnage
Weep weekly welders
die dissected diddycoys

MANCHURIAN MACHINATION
A Poem by Andy Scorah

It is what it is, and whatever it is, is what you want it to be


In a Manchurian world of Lysergic dreams
The world is not as it may seem
Just like Marco and Shaw turned into a political whore
Stalking the streets till you reach the killing floor

Was the queen of diamonds your call to war
Or Salinger's angst ridden tome
That made you carry a Glock from your home
Was it murderous visions driving you through the door

The soundtrack to your mental machinations
As the bodies hit the floor
Do you think your a soldier of the class war
Victims ain't we all of your death dealing gyrations.


Thatchers Spawn
A Poem by Andy Scorah
"
Just a rant at the return of the Thatch
"


In stygian dreams the reaper will play

He will look at you your entire glamor in sway

You think you know best without reason or rhyme

But you don’t realise you’re wasting your time


At the height of your power by old Benny’s shadow

You ensnare us all in a political tango

You open your mouth and give us the spin

If you are wise you will take it on the chin


For lies they spew no doctrines that are true

And we are enslaved by their Machiavellian sway

So on we go life day after day our pockets grow smaller while they take our pay

Our streets grow deep with the detritus of living

While life goes on but the bag rats unforgiving


In your high castle you sit playing at god

Then smacking us all with your priministerial rod

The Iron Lady came before

With her policies brought our world down to the floor


Brother against brother and father against son

When she lost her crown we thought we had won

Now Thatcher’s children are in the house of evil

Weaving her magic like a Boolean weevil


And on it goes because we put them there

Believing their lies we let the spectre rise

Now they are here without compromise

And the reaper arrives once more in a suit his disguise.


Freedom aka Benthams dream.
A Poem by Andy Scorah
"
Is freeedom an illusion.
"

Cities of gold now gone so cold

Full of creatures with slime in their souls

For gods are now the contents of your wallet

The eternal Jester sings a leprous sonnet


Watched by Orwellian eyes at every corner

And freedom is a word that is whispered by mourners

In a Panopticon world of Bentham's dream

Our lives are sutured like a surgical seam


In the dark we cry for life's loves lost

Freedom we cry whatever the cost

And TPOB say but you are free

And laugh and say but only if we agree.


47 Samurai
A Poem by Andy Scorah
"
A tale of honour
"

Forty seven who served and died

Giri and Bushido their binding cords

That drove them to draw their swords

Into karmic destiny they did ride


Two years laid waste to cherry blossom nights

Drinking and whoring delayed their plotting

Falling down drunks no fear were they breeding

Lord Kira spied on Samurai blights


Genroku fifteenth the oath is reborn

While the wind did howl and the snow did fall

Forty seven Ronin heeded the call

To honor their master their actions foresworn


To the beat of a drum and without delay

Lord kira's abode they did storm

Over his retainers forty seven did swarm

Heading the lessons of ten-shin Sensei


Hideing in the shadows Lord Kira was found

Bushido bound they gave him a chance

To end it all with the seppuku dance

For him the terror no words could resound


Without a word he was sent to his grave

Off came his head

Blood so red

Time to leave Kira's enclave


In sengaku-Ji to their masters grave

The story before them had travelled its way

With praise and drinks onto the endplay

Celebration fitting for those so brave


Against the shoguns will the forty seven did act

Warriors true right up to the end

Standing shoulder to shoulder their oath will impend

They followed Bushido, filial piety fulfilled by their pact


Thou shalt not tread the same soil as the enemy of thy Lord

Thus their duty done

They took their lives beneath the rising sun

Forty seven died by the spirit of the sword


Death poem by Anon

tahdachi ya

toshi to kitte

koromogae


Time to go

They say the journey is a long one

change of clothes


ROCK AND ROLL MISH MASH
A Poem by Andy Scorah

Between the devils and the angels

A fire is burning in my soul

when i see the hoary dreams of a charlatans eagles

I realize my time is gone


The streets on fire

with my lady's desire

Tattooed in hell

While guitars crashed

And drums did roll

The man with the tigers eye trying to save my soul


The reaper walks among us

He knows all our names

And hangs out with Bacchus

Dreaming of the purging flames


And sitting up high on the rock

Watching the raggedy man heels clocking on the dock

With Hitchcock eyes and a warlocks speech

fingernails trailing blackboard screech


Another switchblade night

silhouetted lovers in the moons cadaverous back-light

Lips lingering, fingers browsing a virgins delight

Shake this town from your back

Before it bears down and you become a throwback


you know not what it is you do

This ain't no haiku

Nobodies mental kung-fu

Its just a flow from my cranial fu man chew

Words dripping in ones and two

come to my keyboard via digital virtue.

THE CROW { IT CANT RAIN ALL THE TIME}

A Poem by Andy Scorah
"
A man comes back from the dead to seek vengence for him and his dead lover
Tribute to one of my favourite films"
It can't rain all the time
said the