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Though A4E is gone, it’s memory lives on, as the corrupt friends of politicians escape charges of fraud, ‘coz a committee decided there’s nowt to show.



But, the evil of these parasites permeates our government, leaving the stench of corruption in their wake.



And, so it is the observant amongst us, have the duty to talk of what they see, that remains behind a veil of secrecy, with them; knowing full well, that few will listen.



Yet, that matters not a jot, for there must be a voice, to speak out; ‘gainst the reign of the suits.

COMMENTS

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NoctusAngelusProcella
01:51 May 28 2012

politics make very bad bedfellows!

that is why I leave the politics to the ones that think they make a difference.

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LetaleVenatrix
08:09 Jun 17 2012

So true! I think people are almost willfully ignorant...with the approach that 'if they ignore it long enough, it will go away', though that just insures that the wound continues to fester with the 'parasites' until it becomes to contaminated to ignore. I hope the realize before such a time.



Btw, I love the subtle way you have with words.

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I wonder if that attractive brunette sitting to my right and, ahead of me, across the aisle, as I sit on the train, is aware that I don’t like her choice of music, that she listens, through her no-so personal stereo; as she thumbs dance upon the screen. And, I doubt that this young woman made up for a beautification’s salon counter, would have any idea of what I mean, And then, as I write my words of condemnation, I watch her rise and stand by the doors, I hear her say, to a fellow with a walking-aid, “Do you need help?” as she went to take his arm. And I smiled, suddenly aware, that they don’t all… mean harm.

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NikkiAidyn
15:46 Jun 20 2012

You have such eyes & thoughts to take in all in such a depth. To not like her music, then finding that she does have good. There is good in everyone.. well, the ones with inherently human souls.

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With long black hair, a light tea complexion and full rosette lips, she seemed of Venezuelan, Columbian of Peruvian Indian descent, wearing a puce blouse, black slacks and strappy black wedges, she sat there ahead of me, arms crossed, brown eyes intent on nothing, as she stirred out the window…and, I had continued to write.

Standing on the platform I looked down as the sun shone and, there ahead of me, about three feet away, there stood a Robin that crooked it’s head, as it had looked at me, much as I crook mine. So, needless to say, I had repeated the move, once then twice. And, it was as I’d done so thrice that I’d heard my train from behind me. Then I’d boarded the train, I’d sat to write again: and this time I wrote of a magical moment or two, spent in the company of an intrigued and knowing-looking Robin

COMMENTS

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moonkissed
01:34 May 24 2012

If only you knew what he was thinking.

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With the way of the day being as free as it was, I chose to clean the ceiling, and in a moment of Now, the black statue of an Egyptian god fell off the top shelf as I swept along with the damp cloth soaked in Ajax, to remove the nicotine and dust, piled up from many years; and upon falling, it landed on the open Parkard Bell and sorely dented the screen. Well, that was one machine down and, one screen damaged. A new machine was required and, for me it was as simple as apple, banana and cat: just, just as simple as that. And by the end of the day, I had made sure that there’d be a way to pay for the machine that is slowly attaining the look and the feel, of a suitable machine for the Neil…