Sister Bitch

The pain and suffering caused to those

The accusations, that were imposed

The broken ties, hearts and bonds,

Loving friendship thus absconds.

 

The twisted tales and lies were told

The brazen bollocks of words so bold,

The shattered souls, tears and fears

A prison sentence, of several years?

 

The untruths, that they said were true,

The acting to convince the few,

The tears were false as is the heart

A clever act, right from the start.

 

The money beckoned, the pounds they call,

The house, inheritance, she wants it all.

The trial by jury, just a fix,

A farcical phoney, a trickster’s tricks.

 

The envy of a Sister Bitch,

An in-law aiming at being rich.

The lack of feeling, lack of care

For her brother, she wants his share.

 

The loss he felt at this betrayal,

The family unit going stale.

The loss of sibling. loss of self

Stomach ache and suffering health.

 

The Sister Bitch has love of money,

The script she cites has little honey.

The greed for guts and blood are hers

As long as pounds pour in her purse.

 

The Jury hears the woeful story,

The opera soap of something gory.

The story of her darling child,

And one other that she reviled.

 

The plot was easy, and ready set,

The will would change for her to get

The money, house and everything,

Her bank balance set bound to sing.

 

The victim chosen, that was easy,

The lack of guilt she showed was sleazey.

The lad was blood and yet not blood,

Adopted nephew stuck in mud.

 

The mental state of this young man

The game she played because she can

The way she saw it, all was fair

Money talks, she does not care.

 

The evidence does not exist

There are no facts, you get the gist?

The fabrication, blatant lie

Could not be proved, wonder why?

 

The things she said did not take place

In any shape, form or space,

A pack of lies, just for money,

Destroying lives, is not funny.

 

The Jury heard, the story told,

Historical case, out in the cold:

Jury out, await decision,

So confused by such derision:

 

What had started out, as small,

Gained momentum, a rolling ball:

A cigarette smoked, now in trouble,

A stupid girl, an airhead bubble:

 

She said one thing, and then another,

Sought attention, from her mother.

It seemed so easy to tell a lie,

Always easy, to turn and cry.

 

The waterworks worked, well until

The person she told, called ‘Old Bill’.

They made a case, I don’t know how

From lies she said, was truth and now

 

We have a situation,

Total crap, and fabrication.

The Sister Bitch could have ended,

But saw to get the will suspended.

 

The chance had come to her, what luck!

To make some money, what the fuck!

Why settle for half, when she could gain

The entire fortune just for saying

 

A lie, so what, she does n’t care

When it comes to money, don’t play fair.

Half a million to be gained,

So what, if someone innocent stained.

 

What she did not bargain for,,

Was that a fight would be in store.

Justice, freedom and liberty,

The truth is out now, the Jury see.

 

What they said, could not have been

He was not there, was not seen.

We watched them in the court of law

Listened, to a sham so poor.

 

It makes me mad, angry, sad,

That just because his temper’s bad,

Previous convictions, fall from grace.

Unsuited body, scar on face.

 

They tried to twist the facts so clear,

Pervade justice, and Jury steer.

He is believed and she is not,

The facts speak clear, they ‘re full of rot.

© Liola Lee 2007

Sometimes people will do./say anything for monetary gain or if it gets them out of trouble and takes the focus off them! Sometimes those people are the people we think are closest to us!  

Advertisements

Child with a tear…

So much destruction, so much despair,

wherever you look, are those who don’t care.

All about money, all about greed,

all about oil, not how we grow feed.

 

Powerful bodies, globally meet,

exchanging views, sustain a seat.

All about talking, voices are heard,

now to a banquet, how absurd.

 

Wars all around us, killing on streets,

bombs and explosions, bulleted sheets:

All about hatred, murder and rape,

hostages taken, filmed screaming on tape.

 

Ignorance lingers, in a world full of fear.

a child, is a child, is a child with a tear.

© Liola Lee 2007

I wrote this many years ago but the sentiment remains sadly the same…

 

 

 

State of no fear…

I am here, I am now, I am there, but how?

Mindful inner eye, as wide-angled lens

at once comprehends –

The totality of me, wild running free;

wind in my hair, loose vacant stare, ensues

flashing light beyond flick of switch –

Witch-way, way which?

Magickal myth or mythical trick?

Dust-silvered Darkness spreads wide her cloak;

spell-spoken lyrics, Spirits invoke;

arms thrown wide open, encircle, ensnare,

draw down the Moon, O Maiden so fair.

Empress of darkness, Goddess of night,

by day Mother Nature, earthly bound sprite;

maid in the morning, mother midday,

to crone full of wisdom by end of Sunray.

Whisper ‘O’ Willow, word-wagging pillow;

dream-spoken verse, unearthly mirth;

laughter and chants, meditate, enhance

the lives of the living, the lives of the lost,

shovel-spread organic compost.

Dance to the tune, of the Piper, the Pan –

sing, skip, make merry, drink life while you can.

Savoury sweetness, of cherry red lips;

bouncing bare bosoms, child-bearing hips.

Man borne of woman, she borne of man,

flesh interlocking, five-fold kiss, foetal plan.

Blueprint of Nature, bear fruit of the loom,

threads spun on spindles, in wheel spinning room.

Fortunes and foibles, on yarns woven tight:

a girl and a woman and hag within sight.

Singular stable, Hel’s horses three,

nag, mare and filly, on plains plainly see.

Past, Present, Future, time-tangled vine,

conceptual calendar, evergreen pine.

This way, not that way, that way, not this,

ritual direction, throw dice, turn, miss.

Earth worn costume, bone and skin,

not the body, box-like shell;

not the folds of flesh that tell;

this head, these hands, these legs and feet,

function as white cotton sheets.

Cover the bed, protect, preserve

spring-coiled foundations – Kundalini is served;

domiciled, dozing, down spinal tube,

Creation’s conundrum, carefully cubed.

Powerful presence, framed focal point,

quizzical querent, queue and annoint.

Wheel ever turning, circle rotates

on spherical cord, suspending, sedate.

Pisces pass over, pale into the night,

Graceful gradation, Saturnian slight.

Aquarian vessel, sail in with the Sun;

brilliance and beauty: out with the gun.

The circle is constant, clearly compels,

Pagan circumference with love binding spells.

Peace loving people, true and sincere,

Fool’s foot is forward –

State of no fear.

© Liola Lee 1999

I wrote this around the turn of the century as we went from one millennium to the next. 

 

 

 

In a perfect world ~

In a perfect world, there’d be no wars,

famine, poverty, no settling of scores.

In a perfect world, there’d be contentment,

smiles, goodwill, no resentment.

In a perfect world, there’d be love and laughter,

stories would end happy ever after.

In a perfect world, boys become men,

don’t go to war wondering when

they’re likely to die, shot through the head;

blood spattered youths,  wasted, now dead.

In a perfect world, there’d be no politicians,

men in suits, no opposition.

In a perfect world, there’d be no mental illness,

plagues or disease, just a sense of well – ’ wellness’

but the World is not perfect, no Utopia, hence,

nothing is certain, little makes sense.

© Liola Lee 2010

So little makes sense in a warring world!

 

 

 

 

Gangs

gangs glamorised on the street

youths hooded with designer feet

blades set to cut human meat

loaded weapons no thought to heat

a child murdered in his bed

bastard bullet through the head

why

just because someone said

one kid’s glory leaves another dead 

long ago they were innocent

life so sweet a luring scent

inbred badness or badness lent

by need greed or lack of rent

© Liola Lee 2007

I wrote this poem some 12 years ago when a 15 year old boy was shot dead in his bedroom in an apparently gangland-style killing in Peckham, South East London. There have been numerous stabbings and gang related incidences in recent times, and they are on the increase. We as a society need to sort this out. These senseless killings need to be stopped.