The Slavery Flag

Tear it down
It's a rallying call
In the language of pre-Civil War
Tear it down
Its history is done
Turn your backs on what it stood for
Whatever today
You think it means
A thread connects it to slavery States
Connects direct
To rancorous loss
Of Confederate ideals and dictates
The slavery flag
Of the slavery States
Is a modern day slave trade pronoun
A past to regret
A past to forget
Tear it down, tear it down, tear it down.


behind the ungiving, torturous veil
the hammer turns to strike the nail
while supposed safety turns away
condemns the nails to another day

within the nest, vilest molestations
upon the child despite protestations
ignored in the name of self protection
abandoned to a life of moral abjection

sickened now with voices brought high
the timid executive now clamour to decry
too late, too late, for the lost and defiled
too late to save even one violated child

Hiroshima’s Dawning

the people didn’t see the dawning
of Hiroshima’s livid morning
history’s seething fist
every person kissed
burned to the black
stepped over
by the dying
Enola Gay flying
Little Boy gone
in poisonous plume
deadly shroom
people just, gone
on and on and on
never really through
their suffering will continue
as memory grows, and grows longer

the lady turned

there’s no refuge there now for the desperate poor
nor the masses huddled by their fuck-off golden door
nor wretched refuse dashed upon America’s shore
homeless still ‘neath Liberty, with freedom no more

in the ending of days enshrined within the colossus
the lady turns to shun the tempest-tost homeless
adopts the mantle of the immoral and the callous
inhumanity writ upon the bones of the hopeless


‪How far out of balance has our national morality become?

On the one hand we force loving parents to allow their child to die, in order to “end his suffering”. We bring the full weight of the law against his parents, in their wish to travel every road before giving up on their son.

On the other side of these maculated scales, a man in full cognisance of his terminal condition and wishing to end his own suffering, we force to endure an unbearable end of life.

I am proud of the Britain beneath my feet, but I despair of the nation we have become.


Does the devil encourage
Questioning faith?
Or faith crumble
Neath he who prays,
Pleads, beseeches
God to intervene,
Send us one more Nazarene.
Or is it proliferation fog
With gods aplenty
I tried counting, once
And stopped at twenty
So which door for me
The day I die
When doors abound
To fill the eye
And each comely door,
Impervious to key
Can never open
Nor closed be.
It seems surely
The question is done
Like a snowman
Melting in the midday sun
But on it rages
Like bitter war
Betwixt deities words
And scientist’s law
In the end it’s just
A choice you make
Read another book?
Or eat their cake?

Black Lives Matter (CopWatchers)

It continues

Steve Pearson Poetry

Come with me to the hollowlands
beneath the leaden skies,
where skin turns lives upon a dime
and black skin surely dies.
Come with me to their faux morality
beyond their righteous line.
Where life turns upon truant respect,
springs up another shrine.
Come with me to the hinterland
behind the troubled lie,
where America wields it’s brutal past
to chase the truth awry.
Come with me brothers, come with me
wherever injustice burns again,
with right and good upon our breast
lest even truth be slain.

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