I hear greed in the rhetoric, emanating from mouths of the elected
promoting selfishness as a new brand of concept
denying society has social responsibility
putting pain in the eye of the elderly, withdrawing hope from the young
I was born to a generation of optimism
far enough from war for fearlessness
close enough to innovation, to induce dreams
only time revealed it as the caricature of a fantasy
a flowing stream of aspiration, washed clean….And away.
A life’s cognitive onion, peeled back, inducing tears
encouraging summer jam, to set as a disappointment
whilst bombarding us with the what ifs, and emojis
lost in sight, by the can do technological revolution
heralded as an equaliser for all…… Except the weak.
To what depth do we stoop?
Accepting the lives lost to an unnecessary poverty
don’t be taken for granted
by twisted counter ideology
spouted with bent words
or engulfed by its faked news
what became of my generation of hopefuls
shiny faced optimists, a revolution short of immortality
our exuberance murdered, evaporated to a pessimistic soup
splintered by division, stirred into fear with manufactured tensions
My name Is Stephen John Miles (SMiles) live in Barrow in Furness Cumbria England, I'm 53 diagnosed dyslexic at 47. Found my written voice once diagnosed and have been shouting ever since. I've a self published children's book Zac's leather elephant and a published children's book The fox the owl and the big green towel, I have a new children's book coming out later this year called Book of Zac. The books are published by Austin Macaulay. I made stories up to entertain my children all rhyming this led to the books. My break in poetry came after a friend of mine died and I wrote a poem for his funeral. Two years ago I appeared at the Bloomsbury festival in London. I write beat poems as it works well with my dyslexia. Something I feel strongly about is self expression after feeling excluded for so long. I'm not for everyone but then not everyone's for me so that makes us even.