The Emperor is in the Altogether by Tom Higgins

Distractions for the eye and mind,
Provided to ensure that a tiny few,
Control the mindset of most of mankind
To do exactly what they want them to.

Information which informs of their agenda
They keep hidden from the masses,
Whilst they dissipate their propaganda
Which splits us into different classes.

This then allows them to continue to
Maintain the age old ideas of rank
That say he and she are better than you,
And you must learn to always thank

Them for the crumbs they leave
On the floor around their table
And that you must always believe
The likes of you will never be able

To be like them and have a say,
To wear the best of attire,
To eat in restaurants every day
And have your kids aspire,

To even have a chance in life
Remotely approaching that of theirs
And live a happy and fulfilling life
Above, not below the stairs.

There are some though who clearly see
That the emperor wears no clothes
And in time it will come to be
That the ability to see this grows.

If I Could Achieve The Impossible by Tom Higgins

If I could stop time’s relentless flow
Or reverse a waterfall,
If I could make light be slow
Or cause the wind to stall,
If I could cure all illnesses
and make the injured whole,
or remove hatred from men’s hearts
and let the soulless find a soul.
If I could make men see sense
And refuse to go to war,
If I could stop the pretence,
That money’s worth dying for,
If I could build a better world
Where everyone could thrive,
Or stop the flags being unfurled,
And let the innocent stay alive,
Instead of being bombed and burned
Before they’ve had a chance
With history’s lessons left unlearned,
As death’s macabre dance,
Once again takes to the floor
As so often throughout the ages,
The martial music plays once more
And we quick step into the pages,
Of new history as it is written
Never knowing who,or when,or why,
Which of us are to be smitten,
Who amongst us doomed to die.
If I had such powers underneath the sun
I would only ever use them to
Change our world so it is run
For the the many, not just for so few.

The Scapegoats and the Truth – the Real Victims by Tom Higgins

I am sick and tired of this constant blaming
and targeting of the poor, the dispossessed,
the victims of the wars without end.
The deliberate shaming,
of those who cannot respond.

Some people are basically, lazy.
It takes time to discover
the truth behind the headlines.

Many people make the effort,
so there is still some hope,
but so many others just feed their
prejudicial hunger
on the propaganda merchants bait,
and wind themselves up into a frenzy
of ignorance fuelled fear and hate.

This is how those behind the wars
and the creation of the problems
they leave us all to face,

maintain their power base.

Jobsworth Journalists by Tom Higgins

They write the words
to say we must
abide with all that is unjust.
They write the words
to say we all
must obey
or all will fall.
They write lies
to perpetuate
ignorance, greed,
and eternal hate.
They used to write,
in times gone by,
truths you knew,
were not a lie,
and then came a change
I have thought long,
that this was strange
and very wrong,
it coincides with the time
of the Thatcher
– Reagan crime
against all decent humanity,
which has become
our shared reality.

Species Singular by Tom Higgins

In sixty one years
Since my birth,
Man has more than doubled
His numbers on Earth,

Whilst every other creature
Under the shared sky
Has been forced
To adapt or die.

There are some
Who easily can
Adapt their lives
To fit with man,

Rats and mice,
Fleas and lice
Bed bugs
And other parasites,

But most of those
We like best
The ones
We don’t consider a pest

Have to live
Where we do not,
Because if they do
They will be shot,

Or trapped, or speared,
Harpooned or snared
In all of our history
We have never cared.

Our kind just takes
What it thinks it needs
Which usually
Tends to increase the speed

At which other species
Reach the end
Of the race
With their two legged “friend”.

The race is over
Man has won
Man eight billion
Animals – none.

Where now
Does he find
The prey to
Satisfy that mind?

The mind that led him
To a place
Where his was
The only vertebrate race?

Je Suis Charlie by Tom Higgins

Paris, France,
The macabre dance
Of death is performed
By three men.
Each dancing
To the tune
Of their master,
The great tutor
The choreographer
Of supreme misery
The teacher of
The obscene dream.
The blind visionary,
Leading his troupe
Onwards to the edge,
And their inevitable
And eternal return
To oblivion.