To sum it all up the loonyservatives are trying to hoodwink parliament and the country with an ill thought out skeletal bill which has not been thought out properly at all.  to be contd

Replacing Alan Johnson with Ed Balls as Shadow Chancellor was a small move in the right direction. However your party is failing to take note of the public opinion about proposed cuts by the ConDem government. It is not enough to accept in a pathetic fallacy that a sweeping cuts programme is needed. (I don’t see bankers making cuts, but hey it is the British people supporting them to the tune of billions).

I believe that what is required is for him to put Labour’s policy firmly on the map and support the movement behind the proposed Welfare Bill. In particular I call upon him to fully support the TUC March on 26 March and to support it not only as a right to protest in a democratic society but as moral imperative to show that his party is on the side of working people and any who find themselves vulnerable through no fault of their own.

Mr Miliband please support and March for The Alternative, Jobs, Growth,  Justice 26 March London

http://bit.ly/hAiMPE

honesty rides out
on a wave of intrigue
multi faceted elucidations
raining down
harshly crushing
flimsy petals of insecurity
twisting and bending
delicate filaments of anxiety
bowing austerely
under a nebulous weight
harmlessly on the sturdy branch
of secure interpretations
frank and fearless
the only saving grace
an unknown depth of integrity

Well Helshmoon and gleetings deer viewdlers.

Heres a superduperiski fantabulous snog just for your delicacious ears
It comes all the way from the nineteen wasnt the war over (a) long fucking tome
ago -eeeese.

It’s one we Coll lary cantari just love a doodle doo to here …. and now,
near and hoooooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwww

Vera Smegaliscious Lyneskerooney and Haveye gotice for you when the
dandruff is sprouting , more commonly know as ;

There’ll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover …. just you wait and see and
applications for the positiop of pest exterminator-chiefterooney can be sent care of

www.wedontcarecosweaintnotgonnabethere.cominachy

Caveat Emptor
Please not that nothing in this email is!
And furthermore no warranty is either implied or givensmiven as to the quality
of any words used as odour refreshers or for tumble drying ,in any way shape or form,
whether the weather will be etc , European Superstate, precursor of
The New World Educated State (NEWS for short) dictated or recieved from alien beings
in thought form.

This has been a Nawinski production underwitten by Smelldromia ,The home of ” The Heart of a Beautiful Woman is mirrored by her Perfume” and interfered with by Boiled Tripe Inc with thanks to EU , no not u jimmy , The E U

the car breaks down.
wrong place, wrong time
but then it always is.
have to catch a bus.
stand waiting, next to a rundown pub.
cold black railings
fencing off the world
guarding its secrets
am ominous vision of childhood.
and men idling at the bars,
the sickly smell of hops drifting
from the bars as the peripatetic
patrons spill in and out.
the unkempt gardens
are littered with,
fag packets and used johnnys,
broken bottles and corporate cans,
vying in the filthy space,
with intertwined bluebells,
and marigolds,
inevitably losing their identity,
as the wild flowers march on,
day by day.
an old lady hobbles to the bus stop.
and I smile and say hello.
“Just admiring the beauty of nature”
she looks at me hesitatingly,
glancing at the swathes of rubbish
and then a smile lights her face,
as she turns,
“Oh bluebells, happy childhood memories”
the bus arrives and the doors sweep open.
but for a second we are both lost in overlooked jewels

and in the throes of victory
the hatred rages
deep within
the bottomless scarring
of pockmarked glorious conquests

and those vanquished
writhe in agonies
of yawning defeat
squirming endlessly
in the dread caverns of loss

it is only those at peace
who lie in happiness
having relinquished
both the glory of victory
and the misery of defeat

ADDENDUM
I think that when we have eliminated the concepts of glory or misery in defeat, or victory within ourselves, we come to a position where the shackles and limitations of sense perceptions are thrown off.

with a piercing shriek
clambering through the air
a million knives
from who knows where
it came from the north via the east
the hostile wind a movable feast

and the mountains grumbled
the heavens asunder
trees bowed down
cowed by thunder
in the turmoil and trouble all was lost
a myriad lives paid the ultimate cost

whirling dervish of time transpired
unhinging the melodies of our mind
we see the buildings fall
and think we know it’s origin
tracing back through some convenient line
we establish a myth on which we dine
and yet we instinctively know
that the arrow which pierced our heart
was made of pine from a far flung land
which was felled by our axes
donated in benevolence
to aid the poor in their defence
we do indeed choose our fate
from the myriad available
but somewhere in the distant past
the wandering waves of influence
washed over all and sundry
wearing the inevitable lines
which intersect
which come to be