Tom Shaw

A clip from a conversation me and Nika had a few weeks ago on why she chose to create the B'right in Brecon one-day festival. Watch the full piece over at: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/p/physical-and-digital-connections --- For the latest updates, make sure you're subscribed to my Substack: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/ And check out my other socials below: Twitter: https://twitter.com/TomShawWritings Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tomshawwritings/ Telegram: https://t.me/Tom_Shaw Website: https://tom-shaw.uk

A clip from a conversation me and David Cordes had a few weeks ago on how we lose access to our authentic expression. Watch the full piece over at: --- For the latest updates, make sure you're subscribed to my Substack: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/ And check out my other socials below: Twitter: https://twitter.com/TomShawWritings Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tomshawwritings/ Telegram: https://t.me/Tom_Shaw Website: https://tom-shaw.uk

Sorry, I Must Have Forgotten - A Poem by Tom Shaw The teachers forgot how to teach. The police forgot how to police. The pastors forgot how to preach. The doctors forgot how to heal. The cashiers forgot how to cash-up. The leaders forgot how to lead. The directors forgot how to wrap-up. The managers forgot how to manage. The farmers forgot how to sow. The fishermen forgot how to fish. The gardeners forgot how to grow. The cooks forgot how to cook. The students forgot how to learn. The academics forgot how to think. The dreamers forgot how to yearn. The readers forgot how to read. The children forgot how to play. The parents forgot how to parent. The worshippers forgot how to pray. The soldiers forgot how to fight. The lovers forgot how to date. The knowers forgot how to know. The artists forgot how to create. The poets forgot how to rhyme - Oh, I said I’d do something for you? Sorry, I must have forgotten. --- Music: Sergey Cheremisinov - Labyrinth --- For the latest updates, make sure you're subscribed to my Substack: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/ Follow me on my other socials: Twitter - https://twitter.com/TomShawWritings Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/tomshawwritings/ Telegram - https://t.me/Tom_Shaw Website - https://tom-shaw.uk/

It Was No Accident - A Poem by Tom Shaw The sinner lacks stupor for he knows of his crime - he knew what was best, yet he chose to do harm, and he will not repent, for he deserted God. The victim lacks justice, for he is stuck in a rhyme - he knew he was wronged, yet won't make things right. Of abundance he is scared, so holds on to scarcity. The people lack vigour, for they won’t make the time - they know they've been tricked by sinners, victims, yet choose to be kicked and become the abuser. --- Music: HolinzaCC0 - Game Over 4 --- I’ve had this poem written for a while. If I recall correctly, I think I had recently discovered the excellent “Mistakes Were NOT Made” by Margaret Anna Alice , and this piece certainly contains some of that same energy but in a broader societal context. I also recall having a lot of conversations at the time with my mentor on how people come to perpetrate the same kind of abuse in later life that was inflicted on them in childhood and adolescence if that trauma is not dealt with. These two themes married together in the poem that you have just read. For the latest updates, make sure you're subscribed to my Substack: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/ Follow me on my other socials: Twitter - https://twitter.com/TomShawWritings Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/tomshawwritings/ Telegram - https://t.me/Tom_Shaw Website - https://tom-shaw.uk/

Medicine Men - A Poem by Tom Shaw I Patient information collected. Fully followed suitable guideline. Invasive technique for biopsy. Diagnosis using microscope. Pathogen involvement suspected. Antibiotics used are first-line. No improvement. Potent agents next. Drugs prescribed within policy scope. Patient deteriorated quickly. Ventilator used but patient worse. End-of-life pathway recommended. Family informed there was no hope. Life support system disconnected. Time of death noted: 03:59. II Is something feeling amiss, in your view? Is dis-ease stopping you from feeling whole? I may not have some “magic pill” for you, but I am here to help you take control. By oath, foremost, I will do you no harm and instead listen to your voice and heart, feeling your frequency, holding your arm, sensing the points where we should look to start. Gradually we’re unravelling the blocks, that line the passages in to your core. I’ll share with you some tools from my toolbox; energy, nature, loving, and much more, so that when our time draws near to a close, You’ll have all you need for your future woes. --- Music: Schemawound - Ethidium Bromide | Kai Engel - July --- “Medicine Men” is a reflection on the state of institutionalised medicine, both from my firsthand experience and from the experience that many doctors, health practitioners and scientists across various disciplines have spoken about in recent years. This is contrasted with a more “true” view on what healing can be, and where I look to see us moving in a more sovereign future. For the latest updates, make sure you're subscribed to my Substack: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/ Follow me on my other socials: Twitter - https://twitter.com/TomShawWritings Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/tomshawwritings/ Telegram - https://t.me/Tom_Shaw Website - https://tom-shaw.uk/

My Marionette - A Poem by Tom Shaw That solemn, mighty dance my marionette makes; there’s no space for mistakes nor something left to chance. To please the spectators there’s no tears ‘til later, they're compelled to observe her solemn, mighty dance. That solemn, mighty dance my marionette makes; she pirouettes and takes leaps away from a stance. In reverence for the crowd, she finds her body bowed. The least that they deserve: her solemn, mighty dance. --- Music - The United States Army Old Guard Fife And Drum Corps - Boismortiers Concerto for Five Flutes No. 4, Mvt. I. Adagio --- This poem stemmed from an exercise I devised as part of some soul and shadow work I am doing with an excellent mentor of mine, David Cordes. In one of the modules, I identified a number of personas that operated through me and gave them names, descriptions, and characterisations on how they behave both in “shadow” and in “light”. One of these marries to the “people pleaser” persona that I carry, named Helen, taking the form of a slender, expressionless marionette that dances endlessly. This combined with my reading of Metropolis, and an excellent line from the opening scene that described the stars as having a “solemn, mighty dance”, and I felt compelled to write a poem combining these two ideas. For the latest updates, make sure you're subscribed to my Substack: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/ Follow me on my other socials: Twitter - https://twitter.com/TomShawWritings Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/tomshawwritings/ Telegram - https://t.me/Tom_Shaw Website - https://tom-shaw.uk/

Final Gambit - A Poem by Tom Shaw High above, on checkerboard skies, they play us like a game of chess, fantasising and strategising on how to impose their progress. Hovering over our territory, with suspense so tense and agonising, they cannot help but flaunt their wealth and so the silver spray then flies. Down below the checkerboard skies, pawns work to make this fate accepted. They say the air of their heir isn’t toxic, and take out pieces whose voices objected. The battle line clouds are now a new normal, while the weapons of our lungs become hypoxic. A checkmate draws that little bit closer, hidden in a silver spray of lies. Just beyond the checkerboard skies, there sees the beginning of a new game, not one waged in clouds of deception, for it’s clear that playbook needed rejection. The seeding there happens not in the sky, but instead in the soil, where there's no sci-fi high-crime comply-or-die nonsense - only water and love to disperse. And as nature grows us the beanstalk, we'll rise above the doom-and-gloom talk, above the chemtrails laid like tripwires, to reach the castle of the fear suppliers. And while they're busy dining on hubris, we return stolen gold to the fruitless. Sure, when they find out, there'll be a storm, but in their final gambit we'll be sure, that while they'll try to play out their chess, we will be solving a puzzle instead. --- Music - (Ambient) Deep Sky - Kirk Osamayo --- It is clear that something is afoot in our skies, even if we cannot always agree on why, how, and to what extent. The implications of implementing weather modification without proper consent of the people subject to its impacts is absolutely worth discussing. or the latest updates, make sure you're subscribed to my Substack: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/ Follow me on my other socials: Twitter - https://twitter.com/TomShawWritings Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/tomshawwritings/ Telegram - https://t.me/Tom_Shaw Website - https://tom-shaw.uk/

"The Revolution Was Already Televised" - A Poem by Tom Shaw I'd hear you out if I knew how, but the black-and-white spiral won't say how. I didn't catch the stagehand's team setting scenes, making a few. The crisis narrative unfolds - I'm locked on dramas shown anew. I'd sing to you if I knew how, but the black-and-white spiral won't say how. Instead it writhes in bitter fury; snaking round a rotten apple. It hisses hymns of a forsaken place; hymns towards a hellish chapel. I'd hold you close if I knew how, but the black-and-white spiral won't say how. It churns the earth beneath my feet and hooks its tendrils in my boots. Dragged away by crooked teeth, I go where trees will not grow roots. I'd love you back if I knew how, but the black-and-white spiral won't say how. My stomach turns with revolutions, tangled in a fork and sliced apart. I munch on my own mushed-up mind and wait for the next programme to start. --- Music - Irama Gema - The Construal of Space in Language and Thought --- An earlier version of this piece very nearly made it into my book, “Born Anew”, before I decided to save it in the hopes it might win a few competitions. It did not, and while I could have re-submitted it to other competitions, it awarded me the opportunity to re-visit the poem and make some changes to it, allowing it to level-up into the format that you see today. The title is a play on Gil Scott-Heron’s spoken word classic, which is worthy of merit for many reasons. In writing my own poem, I had a lot of ideas in my head at the time around predictive programming, media scare-stories, colour revolutions and engineered crises that made their way into this poem. It takes a more surreal approach to how the media creates a “narrative” around the kind of things we should be expected to talk about and believe in. Fellow Substack poet and writer David Gosselin recently did a very in-depth piece on this exact subject, which I’ve linked below for your reading pleasure. https://ageofmuses.substack.com/p/hol... --- For the latest updates, make sure you're subscribed to my Substack: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/ Follow me on my other socials: Twitter - https://twitter.com/TomShawWritings Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/tomshawwritings/ Telegram - https://t.me/Tom_Shaw Website - https://tom-shaw.uk/

This poem is written in response to recent comments made by WHO Director-General Dr Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus regarding the Pandemic Treaty, which was shared with me by Dr Tess Lawrie. #StopTheTreaty

Actions Speak Louder Than Words - Questions For Strengthening Integrity - by Tom Shaw How can you remain anti-globalist when you are withdrawing from BRICS? How can you remain anti-warmongerer when you’re cheering the Zionist kicks? How can you remain anti-Big Pharma when poison shots are the source of your wealth? How can you remain anti-fear porn when you promote scare-stories on health? I do not pose these questions with malice; I pose them to make you stronger. For you do more than many others do, and I’d gladly see you go for longer. But I fear there are blind spots in your vision, just as there are in all of ours, and mine. But I check my mirrors and off to the side when leading a convoy up an incline. How can we remain fighters for truth when we still play into systems of lies? How can we remain helping the future when we do what caused our elders’ demise? How can we remain planting the seeds when we are digging on shaky ground? How can we remain harmonious when our actions don’t match how we sound? --- Music: Kai Engel - Low Horizon --- Follow Me On Substack: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/ Website (for my books, prints and more): https://tom-shaw.uk/ Twitter and Instagram: @TomShawWritings

Nightmares - by Tom Shaw How can those men sleep at night, the ones who go and abandon children? Their hearts should be back in time for tea but instead the children’s plates are empty. They never see the fun of games and thus they never know their children. What then is left for them to dream? How can those men sleep at night, the ones who lead our children astray? They bomb the parents, taking kids captive, force-feeding them diets deficient in life but rich in fear, hatred and rage. They teach only that this world is pain; that the green grass of home will cinder and char in the hellfire of human flourishing. They preach no God or higher self exists and thus no body, even a child’s, is sacred. What then is left for them to pray towards? How can those men sleep at night, the ones who butcher and maim our children? They abuse power and the innocence of youth to say their solution will satiate the hunger. They lock them up, freak them out, line them up, drug them up, cut them up, dress them up, give them new names and watch them tear at each other for some fleeting praise. Yet all that happens is those kids become tender, the potential in their bones ground to a pulp while the heat of the furnace boils off the soul, until finally those children “die suddenly”. Vampires of men then feast on their blood. Maybe those men do not sleep at night. That would explain why they look like death. --- “Nightmares” was originally published via Over To The Youth in March 2023. This version is taken from my book, “Born Anew”. Over To The Youth can be found at: overtotheyouth.com. Artwork made with Canva using AI. Music: Kirk Osamayo - Evil --- Follow Me On Substack: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/ Website (for my books, prints and more): https://tom-shaw.uk/ Twitter and Instagram: @TomShawWritings

The Fruits of Our Labour - by Tom Shaw In the park one autumn day, when the beaten path could no longer contain me, tackling the bracken upon the wooded bank, I sought to learn what this world could be, should we be at home with the Earth. At the top, a beauty stood still that only engages those who look for it. For there was an orchard, left to time and flourishing fine with no human to babysit, feeling at home with the Earth. With hearts of generosity and love, a tree offered one of its fruits. I accepted, and within one bite I knew a world, not of concrete or suits, but one where I am at home with the Earth. While I could have stayed forever, surviving on the orchard’s labour, the branches gestured to take a seed that blossoms for a lonely neighbour, so they can be at home with the Earth. As they knew best, I made my way through the thorns to return to tarmac. For while I find no comfort here, I know it only takes one crack to plant a tree that becomes a home. --- “The Fruits of Our Labour” was originally published via Over To The Youth in 2023. This version is taken from my book, “Born Anew”. Over To The Youth can be found at: overtotheyouth.com. Artwork made with Canva and Runway using AI. Music: UNIVERSFIELD - Peaceful Place --- Follow Me On Substack: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/ Website (for my books, prints and more): https://tom-shaw.uk/ Twitter and Instagram: @TomShawWritings

"Battle or Build?" is one of the poems featured in my upcoming poetry book, "Born Anew". Sign up to my Substack to be notified when my book is available: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/ Music: Jangwa - A Rainbow In The Sewers https://freemusicarchive.org/music/Dilating_Times/cycles-trax-vol-ii-singles/a-rainbow-in-the-sewers/ Artwork made with AI using Canva. "Battle or Build?" is also available as a physical print from my shop: https://tom-shaw.uk/shop/ --- Transcript: Are you here to wage a battle or are you here to help me build? Did you bring your sharpest weapons or tools to forge and gold to gild? Did you come to compete with me, or did you come to collaborate? For I do not want to fight against you, instead unite as we head to our fate. See, there are bigger threats in life than my character assassinating yours. Food is poison, medicine is death, neighbours are strangers and work is chores. Nature is withered, living is robotic, the news is lying and the lies are truth. Right now, all’s the wrong way round. So what use is giving me a missing tooth? I’m not here to wage a battle, I am here to help you build. I choose to put my axe to wood and hoe to earth so fields are tilled. I plant my seeds with ample space and feed them water, not the blood of all the foes I wished to slay who could have been my closest bud. Then I watch the flowers bloom - flourish in to being their own. I make the space I want to inhabit and somewhere you can say you’ve known. So are you here to wage a battle, or are you here to help me build? --- Find more of Tom's work at: tom-shaw.uk

"Black Dog" was originally published via Over To The Youth in December 2023. It is one of the poems featured in my upcoming poetry book, "Born Anew". Over To The Youth can be found at: overtotheyouth.com Visuals made using AI from Canva. Music: Squire Tuck - Soaring Above The Clouds: https://freemusicarchive.org/music/squire-tuck/ambient-sounds/soaring-above-the-clouds/ Sign up to my Substack to be notified when my book is available: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/ "Black Dog" is also available as a physical print from my shop: https://tom-shaw.uk/shop/ --- Transcript: Tell me what your name is and what it means to you, how it follows silently to bite onto the new. Tell me what brings you to this place and the journey that you took; the adventure that you carried as the ground beneath you shook. I hear your huffs and puffs of fear but let it be known that you are safe here. Tell me what you’re running from and the way it snarls and barks; the hateful eyes that locked on you and its fangs like ancient sharks’. And as you come to say its name, I sense it catching up again. Your breathing hastens, body tenses, eyes go darting around the room. And then the beast that shares your name sinks its teeth in you again. I see you crying out in pain For the trauma’s starting up again. The black dog has returned again. You can hate me, if you must, for thinking we’d not rattle the cage. But I have not betrayed my word, for we outlive the black dog’s rage. I see your dog; I know him well. But the leash needs turning the right way round. For then the children can play with him, for he is a puppy and not a hound. Now that I have seen his tricks, I know your dog is a good one. Let us relieve him of his duties so that I can ask you – what is your name? --- Find more of Tom's work at: www.tom-shaw.uk

"What Do I Want For Christmas?" was originally published via Over To The Youth in December 2023 as a recorded reading with accompanying video and transcript. The poem resonated with people across the world and received thousands of views in the first 24 hours alone. Subsequently, Tom was invited to perform a live reading of the poem at the World Council For Health's Better Way Live on December 19th 2023. You can follow Over To The Youth at: overtotheyouth.com You can follow World Council for Health at: worldcouncilforhealth.org Substack version: https://tomshawwritings.substack.com/p/what-do-i-want-for-christmas -- Transcript: What do I want for Christmas? I want the fighting of our brothers to stop. I want us grounded in stable communities, planting the seeds to grow our own crops. I want families free from digital manacles and indoctrination from the media channels, with children who know themselves, mothers who know their children, children who know their fathers, and fathers who know themselves. What do I want for Christmas? I want the health of humanity restored. I want the toxins out of the water and fake medicine off the smorgasbord. I want us reconnected to the Earth, its energy clearing the poisons in our veins. For there is no reason to sterilise its beauty, to geoengineer or 15-minute-city it; Its natural law can give us peace and a space in which we can just be. What do I want for Christmas? I want the assault on life to end. I want the wanna-be tyrants to loosen their grip and reverse their current trend. Their bankers wars and child whores, satanic vices, compliance prizes, fake divides and genocides - all of that; it should suspend. I want us all to breathe again, to hold close to us our loved ones, standing firm in the face of fake threats so that our children can cherish our assets. Sovereignty – our lives as our own. Is that too much to ask for? Maybe it is. Maybe I should stay at home, stop the spread, muzzle myself, get the shot, eat the bugs, scan the pass, give in, own nothing, be happy enough to mutilate myself and murder my offspring, all because of “climate change”. Santa Claus isn’t real anyways. … or maybe, he is. Maybe he doesn’t wear a red coat, one designed by Coca-Cola, nor declare himself to be the naughty-or-nice Ayatollah. Maybe he is a Saint, one that lives in every one of us, who's called to the void of injustice and fills it with gifts of unconditional love, asking for nothing in return. I don’t want anything for Christmas, not if its lies or virtue signaling, not if it's a mask or phony facade, nor anger and rage from a broken heart. I'm not here to go out begging for presents; I'm here to give out the ones I have already. I'm bringing the things fake money can't buy - honesty, integrity, empathy - and I will meet you where you are at, with no strings or agendas attached. I'll share what is helping me with you, for that is what will get us through. What do you want for Christmas? --- Find more of Tom's work at: www.tom-shaw.uk