Coincidence Theory...

Take Your Pills.....

“Free speech is speech you might not want to hear, maybe it's because it's speech you may fear."

"Your mentally ill, it's not speech I want to share, so just take your pills, please be a dear."

"I'm sorry Mum that you don't care or hear, Orwell's been knocking, but 1984's already here."

"Take your pills, take your pills, I don't want to know or even care, that the rich and powerful would dare conspire a mere.”

Coincidence Theory...

Speech, it's the other side of listening, so be quiet and meek, just listen well, whilst I try n teach,

Some lessons and facts, don't think that I'll preach, most that you hear, will have been out of your reach.

I dare tell alternative theories, historical events I seek, but talk aloud, n it's a “conspiracy theory” I speak.

I just pass on the knowledge, and info that's been leaked, but it won't be long, b4 Google denies “all free speech”.

If I dare mention COVID19, is just one big why, too many symptoms to put down, that you can die.

Wuhan's free again, their wet markets aren't shy, the rest of the world shuts shops, from only Amazon u can buy.

Fear Porn's on 24/7, news is selling one big lie, but just look at the world, and please ask yourself why?

The poor always stay poor, no-one even cries, whilst the rich get more power, their money stacked high.

Dem's denounced Trump, he maybe full of drama, but count the deaths, he's killed far less than Obama.

Voted for Biden, a “woke” lib not a harmer, but u 4get he's jailed millions, with the help from Kamala.

There is no US election, it's a selection year long trauma, then a 2 sided coin gets in, suddenly your much calmer.

Take a look at yourself, on your knee's at Police farmers, herding masked sheep, just like a snake charmer.

Biden's sons a crack head, taking pics snorting off whores behinds, then slow Joe's son, leaves his laptop behind.

Hunter likes his dick pics, his Dad must be kind, news blackout, and his dad definitely don't mind.

Coz daddy Joe jailed crack smoking blacks, millions were confined, privatised prison labour, ppl need a remind.

But if you know and u show, or dare post these FACTS online, you'll soon see your YouTube vids, instantly rewind.

Look up “The Great Reset”, it's a plan full of clues, just be sure, you're reading some real #altnews.

It don't take hard math, just basic ones and twos, people can deny, but it's been in major news.

The Globalists have been waiting 4 this event, many ppl jumped in with no clue, but when China runs the show, what will u do?

All the pubs will die, you'll have nothing to do, and I'll be paying through the nose, to just Tweet to you.

On 9.11, World Trade Centre 7 fell with suspicion, free fall to the ground, therefore it must be a submission.

We even have the CIA agent, with his death bed confession, with his last words, he let out a filmed admission.

BBC reported on the news of the collapse, with the building still full of munition, she told the world, 20 mins before it's demolition.

But there were no answers, just ask the commission, they just left WTC7 out, ignored by omission.

We had Grandpa Prescott Bush, in the 30's a heavy hitter, a powerful man, who only supported Hitler.

He even tried a coup, to try make the US even more bitter, but didn't have the balls, to be the main killer.

The man he tried to recruit, was only one General Smedley Butler, but he turned them in, coz he weren't some nutter.

He wrote “War is a Racket”, the truth of the US mugger, you should all read it, and try not to shudder.

Did you just see the Pentagon released films, of planes chasing a UFO, or was it just news, u chose to forgo?

The “Tic Tac” it was called, n made their planes look slow like crows, all over the net, but didn't make a single news show.

Even the pilot who chased it, was allowed to disclose, it defied known physics, when being interviewed he knows.

That aliens were probably flying it, a dynamic light show, but don't ask mainstream news, it didn't make one row.

You have generals and pilots, who have forgone severance, even the ex head of NATO, with top cosmic clearance.

All have tried to appear in Congress, witness to their 5 sense, all to say, that UFOs are a real presence.

NASA's own Apollo moon images, show structures mile high immense, clear to see, for all with some sense.

Ask what or how, or write online correspondence, you'll only hear sighs, from brain dead TV nonsense.

Then there's Jeff Epstein, a Mossad owned perv jail bait, was going to speak out, but met with a grisly fate.

Bill Clinton n Prince Andrew, were just 2 of his good “mates”, all caught fiddling, secretly behind locked gates.

Whilst in lockup 2 guards fell asleep, wrong ligature marks, and no CCTV tapes, but don't over think, it was just a mistake.

If he ever made it to court, imagine peoples take, to find out their beloved leaders, were pedos n fake.

You may think speech is free, you can say a lot, but I can tell you all, it's absolutely not.

Say the wrong words, or think the wrong thoughts, you never know, you might even get shot.

Try n spread the truth, just don't connect too many dots, coz your truth, will soon get forgot.

Big techs limiting free speech, their on it non stop, plus your names already been logged, n sent to the Orwellian lot..

© 2020 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Smell...

This Skr3w is new, and I dunno wat 2 do,

Bashed ten blues, but my minds still on u.

Tried 2 get up but my duvets stuck like glue,

Lying here cashless thinking who to sue.

Ur just a lovely brunette and I want 2 smell ur hair,

Give me 5 mins, I don't give a toss wat u wear.

Don't wanna get close, n I'm always aware,

That peeps think a bloke like me, cud never ever care.

I don't hav the words to spit to u online,

N u'd prob be miffed if u ever heard this rhyme.

Can't write love songs, they wudn't hv that chime,

And I run 2 much to even have the time.

I jus like that smile when u don't even know,

Flick of that brown, putting on a show.

Your the sort of girl that I'd really like to know,

But the chance of the bet is I'd prob let it blow.

So I sit here alone n just twiddle wiv my phone,

Hoping every min that u'd catch the dog n bone.

Coz the truth of the matter is I'll prob end up alone,

N that Facefuck profile I stare at, is prob just a clone.

© 2020 – All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

Irritants....

My TVs just broke and it ain’t no corny joke, coz lying on my bed only makes me want to toke.

I need a KO express, Caffeine-less depress, and I wait for the sleep, with an ashtray on my chest.

The windows open wide, yet I close the curtains and hide, for nothing is as nice, as a wasps buzz inside.

You get a little cup, try to lift the sucker up, but try as you might, the dopy insect won't take flight.

It's just another irritant!

My front rooms bulb just gone again, best part of a tenner to see again, what the fuck have I got to spend, I just need a pay-day lend.

Ask my old man for a loan, and get greeted by a moan, all I want is a clear view zone, but I'll have to shop alone.

So I go to B&Q for a shop, only need a 60 watt, yet back in the car I've forgot, and nut the wheel, blood clot.

Coz those Ray-bans on my eyes, must be very heavily disguised, still I'm pleasantly surprised, to find my shades still on my head alive.

Shopping is always an irritant.

Then a bird phone rings as I'm shopping for some things, it's just another yabba yabba ting, should have just let it ring.

But I get in my car, don't drive too far before the hands-free goes HA, and I can't turn off the electrics in my car.

I try to pop the hood, like any man could, the lever bloody should, but snaps in half well good, left here covered in blood.

Try to give my Dad a call, but he aint answering at all, so go to knock on a neighbours door, knowing they're probably being silent hugging floor.

Flat battery irritant

Heat is mean on my thin blood, can't cool down like people should, so I'm lying on my bed, but too few Mummy's little helpers to help make me brain dead.

But now my net curtains fallen down, and it ain’t a funny frown, coz I know I'll surely drown, from all the insects in the town.

I can't stand this boiling heat, the damp sweat soaked nightly sheets, yet I've got an top deck view, of an estate of flabby meat.

Maybe they should all try to disguise, coz those Slag Tags ain’t very wise, and if you stand under my skies, I'll automatically 2 metre-ize.

TWO Metres – Irritant Bitches!

So I'm walking to the chemist, when a doofus becomes a menace, and an argument that ain’t even mine, ends up with possibility of doing time.

I must have a face right for a punch, and I've had to absorb a bunch, funny thing is though, I've never gone to ground once.

But I'm fed up of Doctor Who? Telling me they maybe new, but seemingly well clued, that my granite skull's my saviour too.

Well you can take it all back, coz as great as it is n all that. I'd rather remember more, than become a hundred year old senile bore.

I'm probably just another persons irritant.

© 2020 – All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid

This Is A Shit Show....

Do you believe the countries gone insane?

Fruit drink bugs gonna eat your brain,

Please someone come feel my pain,

Coz I'm alone, stone broke and afraid.

So many unnecessary people dying,

And big men are heart broke, dropped crying.

Dickhead selfish off panic buying,

An all police want to do is fuckin cite me.

Because my health is a fucking shit show,

On more meds than ten Grannies I know.

Blood eeks from the leaks, legs on show,

An bubbles pop from the snot on nose blows.

It's a sweat tank, drip drop, sorry state to be,

And Gandalf's beards half grown face on me.

Grey whiskers and no razors I can see,

Sofa dove already, one two twenty pee.

All tin cans, been scanned, and bin bagged,

Rotten fruit but it's the best meal I've had.

Got no idea if I'll ever see my Mum and Dad,

When I go out, scarf wrapped face, tight clad.

Coz this Town is a fucking shit show,

And my mental health is nagging bad, full blown.

My inner brains having a decent chat show,

And I'm socially isolated, nowhere to go.

Coz I can't even make some decent Ps,

Nags aint running, bookies closed on high street.

I need some soft paper to wipe my underneath,

But got no petrol to fly off to the heath.

Coz it seems like this worlds in martial law,

It's a sign many have seen years before.

I'd be surprised if they relaxed all new laws,

Get used to sweating hot all summer indoor.

I swear I got bugs sucking thoughts from my brain,

Not a days passed that I've been half sane.

Only got a Pot Noodle and half a can of K,

And not a single neighbours asked if I'm okay.

Coz this countries a fucking shit show,

BoJo clown, Tory fucking road show.

Every booked ops gonna be a no show,

And I'd risk ten new fines to make some quick dough.

So this rope here is going to stay,

You never know I might need to use it one day.

I let it swing back n forth an give it a play,

Then kick the chair, doped choked, merry on my way.

© 2020 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Fuck Facebook....

So go fuck Facebook,

    fake friends,

    and fucked faced,

    Facebook wannabes.

Your profiles prob all been cloned,

    so I only seen,

    what I wanna see,

    yet never seen.

20 year old dole blogs, arguing, musing,

    I could have been,

    I should have been,

    why wasn't I a “been”?

And decades year old school friends,

    Snapshoted and crop shotted,

    where I wanna be, could have been,

    yet never seen.

Fuck fake face pretends,

    big bell ends,

    past wanna bees,

    and ancient beauty queens.

Facefuck's trade is soaring,

    scammers' is roaring.

    posters selling, fake post pretending, miss-telling,

    but never ever, sending.

Southern beauty Queens,

    spots never seen and endless video streams,

    of automatic wet dreams,

    could have, should have beens, but sadly never to be's...

Got a dozen more “friend” requests to send,

    then I'll have tons more “friends”,

    in my "fiend list" than your "friend list", even if it never ends,

    but sadly from clicks you didn't, but wish you'd really sent.

And now every Thursday night,

    is weekly indoors street party night,

    support health workers rights,

    nurse our Boris Johnsons tight.

Otherwise society will get offended,

    because when society isn't shaped and bended,

    and when it's time to rhyme along, we get along, so sing along,

    and clap and salute, right?

It's 8 O'clock no?

    The Sun says so, so it must be so,

    porch or window, put on a good show,

    coz it's patriots time and not clapping could never be a crime....

But shouldn't the NHS be funded right,

    for all times, all come, day and night,

    not just in case of virus times,

    like this emergency fruitbug crime?

So sorry Mr OAP,

    your name forgets me,

    but the Mail,

    always kindly, and daily, reminds me.

I really don't appreciate being told,

    daily, needlessly re-sold,

    about your patrioticy, your charity,

    lapping your lawn as I drink my morns cup of tea.

You'd be sitting in silk slippers son,

    drinking pints of Rum,

    not in photos with Daily n Scum,

    if was up to me.

But you're not, you're just another Facebook meme,

    been sent off the best team.

    A striker Besties never seen,

    yet just more Facefucked news to read!

© 2020 Robert Reid – All Rights Reserved

Finally They Come....

They finally come out to my homeless park BBQ, 

Get to the back jack, be quiet, and just queue queue queue,

Burned meat and charcoal but at least it aint your Mum's chunky stale stew.

So just stick it in your mouth peeps, and just chew chew chew.

It's a summer time rhyme with plenty of nonsensical lines,

Plenty of time, so we pack the bongs nice, fat and tight.

We pass the tube round and round til the moon fades at night.

Staring at the birds looking so so fine, getting a smile if you glance just right.

Summer time crew and we all say “Fuck the boys in blue”,

Put four cops together and get the brains of just two.

Let them run round, fining unmasked devils in shops and queues,

Sticking our fingers up as they pass, coz we all hate hypocrites in blue.

Coz we're all here lying out in the shinning, beaming hot sun,

And its double hard now trying to get some real fun for some.

Boys n girls are raving to the max, all popping molly one by one,

And that blonde in the thong has got my dong throbbing like a drum, bom bom.

We're out all night til the moon comes up, and then it leaves and goes,

Lying on the grass letting weeds grow through my ten duff toes.

Night changes to light and the crew whittles, as peeps start to go off home,

But I wake up on my own, with no home to go back to, all alone.

© 2020 – All Rights Reserved - Rob Reid - Competition Winner

This won The Creative Writing Groups bi-monthly Competition for Best Poem August 2020

Butterfly

The one winged butterfly, he tried so hard yet flew too high,

Two flaps for one he done, and he almost touched the sky.

But burned hot by the orange sun, he spiraled down to die,

Yet the ground opened under him, caught by the Devil nearby.

He said God's scraps are pure crap and mine always to be,

Any mental or ill health, are all torture plans for me.

That being up top, he never stops, only wanting Angels regrettably,

But any defect is deep regret, so he bin bags them for me.

The butterfly replied through blurry eyes, looking up to cloudy sky,

Those scraps may be your crap, but to me I have to ask why?

I suspect you've wept and over kept, fake Ken's and pretend Barbies,

You've lost out on a real corrupt soul, all just to take me?

I maybe Heaven scorned but I'm not Hell born, even if now owned by thee,

But I won't play or sing your Devil songs, and kill just to please.

Because Devil crap ain’t bubble wrapped, your realm won't be shaped by me,

Your worshipers are just irreparable and have no souls to need.

The horned one debated some before over come, and let the butterfly go,

No more time for talking now, he flapped his wing so fast not slow.

He was very high, clouds below, this was a path he didn't know,

Yet just as he faded and starting to doubt, from afar came a bright light show,

When he had flown high enough, he neared a glimmering shore,

So happy he was when Heaven neared, soon he'd tire no more.

The butterfly had made it up, he had landed right at Heaven's door,

But St. Peter said, “No luck son, UKIPS in, we don't take insects no more”

© 2020 – All Rights Reserved - Robert Reid