Armistice for the Soul

Flanders

Emptying the toy box of my heart

Old soldiers without limbs

Cars without wheels

Airplanes missing wings…

Such distant boyhood memories…

Wars fought – won – lost

What have I become?

My complex mind

Forever computing

the daily input of knowledge

as I seek truth

deep inside my core

refusing to be caught up

in this phony war…

 

A masquerade of lies

of conflicting ideologies, faith, values…

Peace pursued with aggression!

As I make my stand

in no man’s land

Shelled by both sides…

 

This war to end all wars

Vietnam – Troops wearing peace badges

Playing hippy music – smoking weed

Destroying with napalm…

All who oppose…

 

Fighting for each other

Brave men – Good men

Now the army of the disillusioned…

Like us all shuffling along

blinded by the fumes

of the meat grinding media machine…

My only agenda – to survive

Stay alive – not get stuck in the wire

dragged down – to drown in the mire

The last post a distant soundtrack

as I weep, tired, weary

understanding nothing

except my love for Indiana

my daughter – my bub!

Unconditional – strong

Unlike my faith in God

Whose love I doubt

Inverted pride mixed with fear…

 

Oh! to be set free

from such insanity

that grips – rages in my head…

Forever tormenting my mind

A prisoner of shame and guilt…

Wash me in your precious

blood, my saviour

Bind our wounds

Heal this broken land….

 

©M.C. Bolton, November 2018

RAT

I won’t be herded

Only to be murdered

By the feudal rules

Bootprints on my head

Leaving me for dead

 

Could turn any man to drink!

To stop the over-think

Of swimming against the tide

Universal truths denied

 

Left drowning in this madness

Hiding from the sadness

That futility brings

Like a never-ending Autumn

Where everything’s decaying – dying

Those of us who have stopped trying

Picking plastic flowers

Fighting against dark powers

This the eleventh hour

Such terror it will bring

 

Yet deep within my soul

A constant song I sing

Of hope, of love, of freedom

New life – forever Spring…

 

 

20180613_090140_HDR

©M.C. Bolton, October 2018

 

Photo by Angel Lewis, All Saints Road, October 2018

Autumn Nights

Staring through the flames

of my inner fire

smoke filling the dark echo chamber of my soul

where whispered words

emerge as a desperate scream

 

What is truth?

This eerie place

without birdsong or dew

what is truth?

 

Slowly the heavens open

like a giant peach bursting

exposing a new dimension

torn apart like a repentant saint

rending his garments

frustrated in defeat to God’s grace

 

This pitiful last stand

of self-righteousness

vanquished, destroyed

Falsehood – like dross

burnt into a fine powder

blown away

by that eternal whirlwind

of revolving dust

 

A sandstorm to the masses

blinding what little vision they possess

deluded – beyond hope

For they did not reach in or reach out

to the almighty creator

who will cut my silk thread

where I will float above the trees

like a lost child’s baloon

looking down upon my body

Finally free – finally home…

 

IMG_20180907_144957271_HDR

M.C. Bolton, September 2018

Part Two

Dark Stars

I fly into the dark star

at the edge of the Universe

falling into my constant dreams

matter cascading over the edge

like a forgotten run bath

 

Taps gushing light – energy

Just bending my mind

stretching my thoughts

beyond the sun…

 

spinning internally

a prisoner to the law of time

Dimension’s diamonds pushing me to the limit

of comprehension, of understanding

 

My soul, my spirit

fizzing like a treacle stick grenade

exploding my conscience into being

to what? for what?

a purpose? a reason?

 

I know nothing

I mean nothing

Just a fading mist

upon a hill of beans….

 

Poem ©M.C. Bolton, June 2018

Drawing ©Tom Charles @tomhcharles

 

June 14th

Our community has been painted as work-shy immigrants, sub-letting; it could not be further from the truth; we were eloquent, hard working…we deserve to be respected

2.jpg

Urban Dandy is a North Kensington-based blog. It was born on the Lancaster West estate where the Grenfell Tower still stands. That estate, North Kensington and all of us who live here were forever changed on June 14th 2017. Our articles and poems from the aftermath of the fire can be found by clicking urbandandylondon.com/tag/grenfell-tower/ . We hope that all of our pieces on Grenfell convey some of the heartbreak experienced here in North Kensington, provide some context for the reader as well as serving as a tribute to the community we are proud to be a part of. 

 

Children
From St Thomas’ School newsletter

 

 

Questions

 

For example: why

and

1944

But

Silence

The Limits of Politics in the Shadow of Disaster

At al Manaar last week, Jeremy Corbyn focused on his ‘Another World Is Possible’ message. The visit to North Kensington was part of the strategy of taking Labour to the heart of communities to build grassroots support and pick up campaign volunteers. On both these macro and micro levels, Corbyn is underestimated by the media.

But in North Kensington, these are not our primary concerns. World peace and another world being possible don’t seem that important when there is no sign of justice for the crime at Grenfell Tower, when the Conservative council easily won the local election and when the survivors’ treatment has been appalling, surreal and bureaucratic.

Corbyn’s speech at the mosque was pleasant enough, but whoever wrote it failed to linger on the any specifics about the community response to the Grenfell Tower fire, the only positive in the nightmare. Where were his personal recollections? What are the implications for how another world could be moulded based on the collective efforts we saw here last year?

The situation in North Kensington is not one that powerful politicians can pay lip service to before heading back to the Commons or City Hall. It asks fundamental questions of how we deal with an appalling man-made disaster and how we see the future of this society.

Perhaps the words of Sadiq Khan, like Corbyn’s, are a tacit acknowledgment that London is over for many people who cannot thrive in a punitive property market. Nowhere is this more stark than in North Kensington. Where are the fresh ideas, beyond a call for survivors to be treated a bit better within the failed system? 

The Labour leaders should feel free to use their power to speak and act against the Conservatives and their deadly policies. Unlike the community, these politicians have a platform and a voice, but if Labour cannot seize the moment in North Kensington, then rather than creating false hope, they should leave it to the locals and focus elsewhere instead.   

 

 

We were abandoned…

It was the community that offered sanctuary to us

Ed, Grenfell Action Group

 

Big green hearts are in contrast to the derisory RBKC Council, the TMO, Theresa May and Sajid Javid. A desperate, grasping, corrupt political elite and their bureaucratic quislings.

What can be said about those whose symbols are on every lamppost, estate entrance, whose dead eyes stare out from the free newspapers? The Tory council just a human shield for Theresa May, the TMO likewise for the council. 

How do we tell our children that their rulers are hateful? It might be better to tell them: ‘Look at what you did last year, at how you supported each other’ or ‘Look at the community you are part of’.

Naughty schoolboys, written off by the system but handing out water to distressed people long into the night, kindness everywhere. The purity of children – their big hearts in contrast to their presumed superiors. Unity not an empty slogan to be manipulated and used as a tool for power, but as real as it gets…

Green

 

“Men aren’t gonna talk about it. They want to fix things, so they’re repressing their emotions.”

Rajaa Chellat, counselor for the My Shepherd therapy service.

Women led us on June 14th 2017, at Acklam Village and some of the other centres for relief, women led and men followed

We men want to fix or protect, but we can’t bring back 72 people, we couldn’t protect them…

On June 14th 2018 in North Kensington, just like last year, all we’ll have is each other.

 

 

Tom Charles for Urban Dandy

Poetry written and preformed by Mark Bolton

The Sword

Rog

 

Fake news

Fake tans

Fake views

Fake plans

No gender

No war

No race

No poor

Our freedom enforced by draconian laws!

 

Eden builders – Utopian agenda

creating a world where deep truth’s surrendered

Not mankind’s words,

it’s the heart that needs change

for out of its spring

hate speaketh – hate rages

 

Becoming like God

Your eternal delusion

Party line doctrine

causing internal confusion

Cognitive dissonance not a solution

 

This island ship,

a mixed crew of pirates,

no political alignment – allegiance,

or fear of the whips!

With big sticks in hand,

cruel sardonic quips

No time for the left,

less for the right

our beacon burns brightest

when it comes to the night

For the truly enlightened

won’t give up the fight…

 

M.C. Bolton, May 2018

 

Shoreditch Slave

 

I’m a Hipster

Fashion tipster

Got my beard

Some find it weird

Work in I.T.

Watch Boosh the mighty!

Live in Hoxton

Landlord’s Foxtons

Drink my micro-brewery beer

Yet it’s the locals that I fear!

Often wonder why I’m here

©M.C Bolton