Pete Wakeham, The Hard Bard, posting my poems and other poets/ writers, bands I've seen live, songwriters, artists, psychics, healers, in Freedom, Peace, Justice.
Author: The Hard Bard
Hi I am Pete Wakeham, The Hard Bard, I am the creator of The Hard Bard website and occasionally publish a newsletter. I post MY POETRY, OTHER POETS and WRITERS, SONGWRITERS, ARTISTS, INDY JOURNOS, MUSIC (mostly bands I've seen live) – WAKE UP CAMPAIGN - COVID WRONGS, JUSTICE, FREEDOM, PSYCHICS, HEALERS, ARTISTS, ANTI-STATE SUPPORTERS Remember folks! NO TO CENSORSHIP, PROPAGANDA, RESIST - DEFY - DO NOT COMPLY!
Stalking the outer reaches The dark stranger approaches As the knife is plunged The girl is raped Or the old man is robbed A cloak is thrown into the wind.
Create the circus build the frame The dark stranger creates the game “Find the likely party in this For the day will judge for justice” The spittle on the lips fries the veins The guilty are death’s servants.
No hold will stay the axeman’s hand The dark stranger left a last command The moral audience is lively tonight,. As death is the main attraction alright.
Black thoughts Because black is beautiful Black thoughts Because black people have them Black thoughts Because anarchists believe in them Black thoughts Because media shows distort them Black thoughts Because clichés torture or kill them Black thoughts Because black thoughts are feared Black thoughts Because the rain of truth is near Black thoughts Because the colour of my thoughts are black
I’m having black thoughts Of wonderful paradise islands Where only the good light shines Into the darkest shadows Where the fear and ignorance resides.
I’m having black thoughts Into a world where the good light Shines Where my hand is touching Another’s Where the black thoughts are dying.
I am a recent member of the William Blake Society and 2027 marks the 200th anniversary (bicentenary) of the death of William Blake (who died on August 11, 1827), and The Blake Society is coordinating a global programme of events, exhibitions, publications, and performances under the banner #Blake200https://blakesociety.org/blake-200/
The open open snow laden hill Waiting for the wind to kill The only remaining tree The melting memory The ever-widening space.
The wide valley of virgin snow Aching as if wanting to know The coolest deep sorrow The landing of tomorrow To the endless useless race.
Deepening furrows lie stark Whilst the body feelings turn dark The blackest eye resting The cold thought nesting Waiting for its lonely place.
II
Beyond the peace that is loneliness Is an urgent maddening mess Where the collected tears fall The briefest look is small Darting a print into the snow.
Behind the unblinking eyes Caverns echo to the surprise Of finding the lonely tree alive The hill will always survive For the wind will never know.
III
The pitiful well laden tree Is the thought of wasted time really The hill will rise slowly And the snow will melt eventually And the sky, blue looking cool below.
They told you who to hate. Told you which protest to attend. Told you which flag to wave. Told you which lives matter — and which don’t. Told you who the enemy is. But they never told you the truth. Because the truth is… You were never meant to win. While you were shouting in the streets, arguing with strangers online, fighting your neighbour over culture, colour, or class… They were locking the cage. It’s always been a war of distraction. They create chaos — on purpose. Then sit back and watch you turn on each other. While you rage about immigration, they quietly install Digital ID systems in the background. Facial recognition at borders. Cashless trials in supermarkets. Carbon passports tied to your “freedom.” They give free phones, free housing, free food, free healthcare, free lawyers — all funded by YOU. And while that boils your blood… you’re pointed at the wrong target. It’s not the people on the boats. It’s the people in the boardrooms. The politicians signing the deals. The globalists shaping your country into a prison. PROBLEM → REACTION → SOLUTION It’s a game they’ve played a thousand times.
Create the problem Flood the country. Inflate the pressure. Starve the middle class.
Trigger the outrage “We need stronger laws! We need order! We need surveillance!”
Offer the solution Welcome to the cage: Digital ID Mass surveillance Social credit Travel restrictions Carbon limits Food control The truth is, the UK is under attack from within. Starmer isn’t leading us. He’s delivering us. To technocrats. To unelected forces. To digital slavery. While the farmers are stripped of land, while our food supply is crushed for net zero targets, while we outsource the country piece by piece… We fight each other. While they take everything. We are an island. And we are not ready. If the shipping lanes go down, we will starve. If the grid is turned off, we will freeze. If we keep dividing… we will fall. The system is not broken — it’s perfectly rigged. And the people are being played like violins. So I say this as a father, not a fighter: Put down the hate. Step away from the programmed rage. And start protecting your family like everything depends on it. Because it does. Grow food. Reconnect with your neighbours. Learn the laws. Say no to the digital leash. See the game for what it is. DIVIDED WE ARE CONTROLLED. UNITED WE ARE UNSTOPPABLE. Let them hear us now: We see the setup. We see the puppets. We see the plan. And we are not playing along anymore. — Huxley Knox
“The quickest way to change the world is to be of service to others. Show that your love can make a difference in the lives of people and thereby someone else’s love can make a difference in your life. By each of us doing that and working together we change the world one inner person at a time.”
Video my long standing sides The prides In as I’m on the box with smiles Video my day and turn the mirror around Video the head heap .. now listen to the sound
“Walking down the staircase 1950’s glasses glint in terror and lace The bodies are piled high The garden has overflowed The killing, many years past, shown”.
Video my daydreams Play it all through the night
“ .. rain cascaded in torrents The roads are almost blocked Sheets of water crashing down”. The lonely motel where no one goes His mother is reincarnate in his body His hands grip the blade of a knife The gaunt house upon the hill Amplifies that all is ill For a mother couldn’t Couldn’t really kill!
Change the video wash out the black and white Cream the screen, splash the colour in….
“flitting back over the throttled throats The disgraced policeman played the gas joke Many women became famous victims And timothy hung in the air for the crows.
Video the backdrop Lance the casting Prepare the next few hours of….
“like the taut guitar string That’s ready to snap, real things Go bump in the night So, shit, where’s the damn light? You draw the stake up over your head Ready to plunge into the coldest heart, To seal the fate of the undead To destroy his every part.”
“ … for a damsel so sweet so fair What would she want of me A creature with lop sided frame A curled face Deaf through living with the bells A ghost of the monsters that live in hell I should perish here as the fires lap The famed hunchback shall welcome the trap”.
Record the latest video Try the instant replay, Look out for the blips, the snow, the haze….
If you go back many years Before time was recording Before the Northern Lights were showing If you want to wait For a little while You will hear the little voice That comes to us so very near
If you want to rest Your aching limbs, See the fires coming from the North Give me your guiding hand Let the years roll on past Leave me your golden sands Let me once again last To see the fires, for their worth.
If you go back centuries old Watching the sky fires hold A laughing antelope’s head That sticks in the eye instead That mountains will crumble into the sea Rivers dry up thus whither the tree.
If you want to wait For a little while If you want to rest Your wasting limbs Go back many years To the time when you go North For centuries past We never really last More than one, so I’m told When you become so very old.
If you want to stay inside of here Rest your weary head beside each year Well into the lasting night Keeping your eyes out of sight The North star will be your only light The shape of which is our delight From paradise the word was won From Utopia the word was born I tore the books limb from limb Re-wrote every sacred hymn For life is struggling within The light is now becoming dim I was dripping with a grin Where Northern Lights are on the brim Of gardens inside everyone’s brain.
We do love it when we have fellow Narrowboat Dwellers aboard as we have so much in common with them. Not only is Angel Nash a denizen of The Cut but she’s been a professional musician for over thirty-four years. Although she’s based around Bath Angel continuously cruises our canals moving on every few days but that doesn’t stop her from finding the time to write some excellent songs. Here’s her first one from her session with us, ‘Children in Exile’. She wrote this whilst she was in London, you can quite easily make out the Jamaican Community influence in it.
