The Avian Dual Dyke Problem! - Poem by Stanley Collymore
By Stanley Collymore
The eagle is generally meant to be a truly majestic bird
representing strength, power, agility and grace in the
air; and several countries, even those where quite
obviously it’s currently not a native species
and furthermore has never been, have
nevertheless, as a mark of respect
conjoined with their profound
admiration for this appealing avian specimen, adopted
it as their national emblem. However Britain, or if
you prefer the term the United Kingdom, isn’t
officially one of them; so you’ll doubtlessly
be completely surprised to know that even
though not conventionally politically at
least we still have two of them. Akin
to Barbadians, in let’s say a highly
imaginary situation, astonishingly discovering
that their enchanting island homeland safely
located in the Atlantic Ocean and visibly
neither having a low-level sea problem
as does Holland, nor a flood danger
one, and practicably and logically
not needing either of them, has
all the same ended up with
two utterly useless and
© Stanley V. Collymore
2 December 2015.
Having previously trained and worked as a psychiatric nurse at what was then and had been for some considerable time Yorkshire’s oldest and largest mental hospital I not only came in contact on a daily basis with but also cared for in my capacity as a nurse all sorts of mental cases ranging from those with serious psychological breakdowns to rudimentary schizophrenics, compulsive sociopaths and dangerous psychopaths – the latter category so absolutely devious and also hazardous to life, not only the lives of the staff looking after them but also their own, that they quite literally had to be physically segregated from the rest of the patients at that hospital and moreover constituted individuals: males as well as females, that unless you were lunatic yourself you wouldn’t sensibly turn your back on any of them.
But in spite of my intensive RMN psychiatric nursing training and having years later studied psychology as a subsidiary subject of a degree course I embarked on and even if I say so myself am pretty au fait with human behaviour of all sorts, in spite of all of that it still continues to be a deep puzzle to me – and I categorically make a clear and absolute distinction between homosexuals and lesbians who I have the utmost respect and admiration for in carrying on normally with the life style they have individually, conscionably and privately, as it’s really nobody’s business but theirs any more than genuine heterosexuals should make apologies or feel uncomfortable about their lawful sexual pursuits or way of life, and the several and highly dysfunctional dykes, queers, bisexuals, those passing themselves off as straight, even getting married to mask their perversity and most ludicrously of all even adopting the phenomenon of having in the case of these closet queer boys and dyke girls that have never grown up, consciously getting others, their “wives” or publicly paraded “girlfriends” to conceive kids by other men and then biologically passing these kids off as their “biological” offspring, while they carry on living in a state of denial as to who and what they really are. These lowlife I actually detest with every fibre of my body!
In normal circumstances I quite frankly couldn’t or wouldn’t give a damn about these lowlife specimens of supposed humanity. But most regrettably they do proliferate in our government, shadow cabinet, the ranks of the parliamentary MPs, those in the House of Lords and what’s commonly referred to as the Westminster bubble. The sort of lowlife that when we had mental hospitals aplenty across the UK would have been sectioned there. But having rather idiotically closed the vast majority of our psychiatric institutions on the pretext that these scumbags could and should be cared for in the wider community, this now thankfully dead pillock Maggie Thatcher allowed these slime balls to roam Britain freely, with several of them asininely even ending up as MPs, cabinet and shadow ministers. And it’s a sure bet that this situation isn’t going to be remedied by any of these scum as to reverse what Maggie did would effectively confine these deadbeats to the secure mental institutions for the criminally insane and where they rightly belong.
But the strange thing about all this and their behaviour is that while continuing to live their pathetic lives in a state of abject denial the only way that these Electra-fixated, aka “testosterone toms”, as well as their male counterparts the Oedipus Rex brigade perceive that they can deal with their myriad psychological demons is to pathetically, asininely and publicly demonstrate how “macho” they are; when in point of fact they’re inbred lunatics that haven’t grown up mentally and are highly incapable of doing so; sad creatures in supposedly mature bodies but in reality scared, sick and perniciously feral beings wholly unable to learn from past errors. And to this end you’ll see them whipped by David Cameron – predictably and in characteristic Bullindon and Eaton flagellation form – into the lobbies and followed there by the Labour Party’s Labtory lowlife dykes, queers and the rest of these scumbag MPs to prove their machismo that in actuality and quite frankly is as bogus as a rubber dildo, no matter how appealing or formidable it might appear, being capable of the human act of procreation. None the less it won’t stop these prized pillocks charging into the House of Commons lobbies as they did with Iraq and Libya, to cause more mayhem in another Global South country; this time Syria. But just as long as they know that this time there will be consequences for them!
This poem is therefore dedicated to all these detritus specimens of humanity but as a Labour supporter myself dedicated specifically to the Eagle twins: Maria and Angela, Hilary Benn. Tom Watson, Tristram Hunt, Liz Kendall, Chukka Umumna and the myriad other scumbags that infest the parliamentary Labour Party. But not for much longer!
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