27 Book Banter with Bernie-the-Bolt

Introducing Bernie-the-Bolt  #IndieBookBanter today welcomes a new raw talent that is the poet Bernie-the-Bolt.  Please tell us a little bit about yourself, and the best place for us to find out more. Hello Dandy People, my name is Bernadette O’Horo, (also known by my pseudonym name Bernie-the-Bolt) and I’m from England and live in the Borough … Continue reading 27 Book Banter with Bernie-the-Bolt

Ban that Bloody Burqa.

Bernie tells us this is her favourite piece to date, check it out.

Bernie-The-Bolt {Poet} 🌈🥰

“We are not Racist”. This is what they say.
But BAN that Bloody Burqa.
This is England not Pakistan.
Woah! Spot the Terrorist if ya can!
Multiculturalism quoting:
‘Allah’s’ God forsaken rules.
Getting diced into little pieces.
Fragile ‘Horses. Bleeding Fools’.
If we entered your Country,
we’d be forced to change.
So, don’t come over here,
flogging ‘Dead Chickens’.
From, your Copper Range.
Feminist Divisions with Dominant clothing.
Designed to cover the skin.
We’re all like Biscuits getting crushed
and boxed into a shiny, metal tin.
We like to look at people’s face, when they talk.
But, intimidating eyes; they back, crack stare.
For, it makes us rather curious,
to know what is hidden under there?
Is it a Narcissistic, inconsiderate Human?
With a brain like Pacman’s Core?
Or a melancholic soul that longs,
for life; to offer so much more?
You might call the Fascists, the Communists;
The Marxists…

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Liquorice Footprints.

I am currently working on uploading the Indie Book Banter interview with this raw young talent but you have to check out this her signature poem. We LOVE it.

Bernie-The-Bolt {Poet} 🌈🥰

Yes. Capitalism is failing people!
Hungry mouths, fragile bones.
Government’s sucking: ‘Ice-Cream’ cones.
‘Categorisation’ to determine eligibility.
Welcome to the contested invisibility
Liquorice Language on: ‘Thorny Crowns’
Democracy rises like Bread, in all towns.
Smokes my pockets, leaves me in slums.
Paints me in numbers, with filthy bums
Spaghetti Junction, as we lose control.
Diced like meat, cubed into their hole.
I’m ejecting cookies, rolled up to throw.
Into your hands, as you chalk us; down low
Self-Assessment forms, in a pickled mess.
Under pressure, intense feelings of stress
‘I Daniel Blake’ deserved better, a fair trial
Unjust actions left me ‘Out Cold’, in style.
I’ll just lick the gutter and die with a disease.
Spit-Polish your shoes. Bent down, on my knees.
It’s time to get ‘Anarchic’ and fight back hard
With ‘Punk Fashion Nails’; for many blow, scarred.
Let’s turn back in time, ‘Cher’ 50 years on…

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