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(North Yorkshire)

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In this England twenty twelve.

We shuffle in hypnotic hachures.

Spiraling eternally in winding, woven wistful debt.

We hurt from blinkered splintered fractures, never to forget to drink to forget.

In this England twenty twelve.

We lie in search of heliacal rising heaven.

Pastures green we freely shelve,
for thalamic thirst twenty four fucking seven.

In this England twenty twelve.

We stand in quiet patient queues, and don't ask awkward questions.

We live our lives as if from autocues, upon cyclopian cameras.

Politeness rarely mentions.

In this England twenty twelve.

We lie awake throughout the fear induced tabloid night.

Free to wonder with strange idea, if policeman, bailiff, rapist, social worker neighbour,

really might?

In this England twenty twelve.

We have given away almost all our power.

Sold out consanguineous counselled truth,

for tavistock proof, handled by the hour.

In this England twenty twelve,

we are bruised,

we have been battered.

Yet expressing a simple love from our indomitable hearts,

will prove to be all that ever really mattered.

Submitted: Thursday, February 21, 2013
Edited: Thursday, February 21, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

I wrote this poem last year and include it now because the sad truth is nothing has changed, and unless we are the change ourselves, nothing ever will.

I didn't want to offend by use of the swear word and it is how the poem tumbled out.
It doesn't feel the same without it.

Comments about this poem (England by Anthony Di'anno )

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  • Alookh :) (9/17/2013 9:04:00 AM) thinking about it!

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Victoria Donnelly (4/15/2013 6:59:00 AM)

    I love this, it portrays wonderfully the taciturn nature of those not in ivory towers that attempt to muddle through the way of things, and the laissez faire attitudes of the rest..reminiscent of the Victorian era in my view....... your footnote with regard to change is perfectly true.

  • Frank James Davis (3/23/2013 11:16:00 AM)

    Well said! The induced grey fog thickens; we increasingly lose ourselves. People everywhere are being systematically drained of the ability to make meaningful personal choices.
    The bigger government becomes, the smaller individuals get.
    A decidedly artistic, extremely worthwhile bit of work, Anthony!

  • Steven Harris (3/19/2013 3:13:00 PM)

    Giving this a 10. Love it, i feel this should be on the side of wall somewhere.

  • Diane Hine (3/4/2013 5:18:00 AM)

    Always good when a poem ends on an optimistic note even when times are undoubtably grim.

  • Unwritten Soul (2/28/2013 10:29:00 AM)

    We may build high building, we may create a busy city but we cant programing people to have great hearts in everyone....its not by a money, its not by a place its about how we being raised....Not England but everywhere is the same, but if no one doest want to take the blame and think we are fine then nothing we will fine because if everyone keep improving, life will be enhancing not just in England but in all human_Soul

  • Search 2 (2/27/2013 8:46:00 AM)

    But England is a concept for us and not just an image. Though you have told perhaps the truth of these recent times, I prefer to think otherwise and feel that your concerns on the most inevitable change will once happen...

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