So it is Christmas Eve

What you see, depends on what sort of person you are

I had intended to run a reduced operation over the Christmas period but sometimes one of our comrades sends something in that makes you change your plans.

In this case it was a poem from Ed in Cheshire, who sent in some thought provoking verses. I would like you to read them and then think about them , especially younger readers. I would bet the ranch, that some of the army of the Gray Wolves already understand the poems message. I know I do.

When you get what you want in your struggle for self.
And the world makes you king for a day,
Just go to the mirror and look at yourself
And see what that man has to say.

For it isn't your father or mother or wife
Whose judgement upon you must pass
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one staring back from the glass.

You may be like Jack Horner and chisel a plum
And think your a wonderful guy.
But the man in the glass says you're only a bum
If you can't look him straight in the eye.

He's the fellow to please-never mind all the rest,
For he's with you clear to the end.
And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass.
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you've cheated the man in the glass.

Now, by a certain age most men should have looked in the mirror and know the truth about themselves. But there are some "men" who will never understand the meaning of the words above. To them the verses are as incomprehensible to them as quadratic equations still are to me and they will never be men no matter how many children they have.

But if you understand the truth above and yet have still done nothing to help the British National Party then go here at the BNP Chronicles and read some of the details of the young and old men who have died whilst in the service of Our Country.

The young ones did not expect death. Neither should they. They thought they would serve us and their Country for decades longer and Our Country is sadder for their loss and we honour their memory because they were and are forever our brothers.

But what of the older members of The Party who have died in harness? They knew that because of their advancing years they would never live to see our final victory but still they fought.

They fought because they believed in the same dream as you and I. That we, through Nick Griffin and the British National Party can turn Our Island Nations into the only real paradise on earth for it's true people.

Look in the mirror my brothers and ask yourselves what you should be doing and if the answer is nothing then best go grow a beard and never look in a mirror again.

Tags: poetry, BNP

Sunday Morning with Simon Martin and Durham BNP

Good Morning. What did I tell you. Same as last week. Get up and it is Sunday again. There must be a pattern here somewhere.

So what is happening in the world today? To be honest I do not know. I thought I would spend a little time adding some poems that were sent to me by Sedgefield BNP, the link will take you to their YouTube Channel which has some really good stuff there.

Now it may come as a surprise to those of you believe the pap of lies fed to you by the state controlled media but the average BNP member is not the knuckle dragging mindless thug they would have you believe.

We are just ordinary people who are just more aware than most about what is really happening to Our Country. Where we are different, is that we have managed to join the dots and see the big picture and let me tell you it is a big big unpleasant picture. Otherwise we are just the same as any other True Brit.

We like music, art, sports, reading, etc and quite a few of us enjoy poetry. Check out this poem by Simon Martin that was in amoungst those send to me by one of his fellow activists.

Traitors poem

As foreign peoples destroy our land,
Home grown traitors lend a hand.

They’ve crept onto our shores so humble and lowly,
Then walked into our villages ever so slowly.

They care not an ounce for our nations great past,
Now our towns and our cities are facing collapse.

Heathen religions and treacherous preachers,
Telling our folk to ignore Christian teachers.

Our people now cower in their homes on a night,
Punished for being simply British and white.

They desecrate our churches and intimidate our folk,
Its time from this nightmare that our people awoke.

The spirit of warriors lye’s deep inside,
Our souls enriched with all their pride.

This is the land of my forefathers long gone,
And this is my country where my people belong.

We’ve stood and we’ve listened to leaders so weak,
But our time has now come, and its victory we seek.

To new leaders we gather as our time does draw near,
With our banners held high to their speeches we cheer.

We’ll march on our towns and take back our cities,
And the enemies of Britain will be shown little pity.

For raping our country we’ll hang them up high,
And as for the traitors they’re all going to die.

We’ll drive them back to their far flung lands,
For never again will they beg from our hands.

The foe that’s abused us will drown in our scorn.
As we stand and cheer and hail our new dawn.

These Islands are British and forever will stay,
In the hands of the people who’ll keep it that way.

Quite good I thought. Well you can read more by Simon in the Green Arrow Forums poetry section amoungst lots of our readers favourite poems by old and modern authors.

My favourite is Young and Old by Charles Kingsley. There also, is the poem that hangs on the wall of Our Chairmans office, The Stranger by Rudyard Kipling. Anyhow pay the site a visit and get some culture into your hearts for breakfast. When you have finished reading you might also care to register if you like what you see. The forum welcomes all people who believe in what the BNP are fighting for.

Your back? Good. Now let us move onto something else. I noticed that Durham BNP are on Facebook and that reminded me of an article I read yesterday over The Student, apparently The UK's oldest student paper.

And what are some of our students blathering about? Not the colonisation of Our Country but rather the fact that the British National Party is not only growing at a phenomenal rate across the country but also that it is becoming increasingly popular on Facebook.

There are over 100 pro-BNP groups on the site, with the largest of these, ‘Vote BNP’ boasting over 9,000 members. Another group, entitled ‘BNP is not racist (kick out muslims that r racists)’ calls for ‘muslim haters’ to ‘stand and fight’ and heralds the return of ‘White Power.’

Last year The Media Guardian reported that the five main BNP groups on Facebook counted 377 members, although individuals often join multiple groups. Student can reveal that this number has risen to over 20 000 in the space of just 12 months.

Well done all you BNP Facebook Activists. Although I have had an account on Facebook for quite awhile, I rarely go there and have left that part of our struggle to spread the truth to other activists.

But thanks to the The Student, I now realise that Facebook is used by 85% of the UKs University Students and so you know what I am going to say next. Our students are our investments for the future. We must counter the lies that they are fed by their marxist, one worlder teachers. Join Facebook, become active on Facebook and spread the truth of the BNP.

I am now active on Facebook myself and look forward to making lots of friends and receiving from them useful information to put out and pass on to other patriotic blogs, forums and websites.

Whilst here, well done the Youtube BNP activists. You know who you are. Keep the videos coming. My favourite still, is this one here. Please watch it if you have time.

Finally a word to our red readers and a response to some of their rejected comments.

I will remove moderation from this blog and allow you the "free speech" and "right of response" you demand when you allow the same on your sites.

I will remove moderation when your foul mouth anonymous posters stop leaving abusive and racist comments that you then cut n paste as part of your false propaganda campaign.

I will remove moderation when your sites publicly renounce violence and condemn those who do.

OK another finally then.

Finally I say to any students who read this. Think. Look for the truth. Do not be intimidated by those around you who would have you believe that 2+2=5. The truth is 4 no matter how many of them tell you different.

Do not be intimidated by your teachers. Do not be intimidated by your classmates. Think for yourselves and seek out the truth and then seek out others who have already discovered it.

When you have found the truth come and be a friend on Facebook.

Tags: facebook, BNP, poetry

Your Country Needs You!

Here on The Home of The Green Arrow, we like a little poetry now and again. Here is one submitted by Lancelot. I shall add it to our poetry post that you can read here. or find on the right.

YOUR COUNTRY NEEDS YOU!

In the England of my youth, where earthly plane and heaven were yet one and both the same, though with Scotland, Wales and Ulster, Great Britain we became, I felt a strong sense of belonging, of heritage and pride and guidance to safe anchorage from the stormier side of life;

Where family strength could conquer all rough squalls with bonds as if of steel, and returning to a calmer side, set us back on course once more through all the seas and sands of time, and kept its iron will.

How then has our great ship foundered, struck this reef of shame? Who has stolen what was ours, rendered all Britannia dumb, enslaved us in a long black night and buried us in chains?

Arise! Arise I tell you, before the final blows are dealt from which we can’t recover; awaken those whose hearts and minds are in the confused slumber, lead them from the darkness in which we are dismembered.

No one left will be spared, if they choose the wrong path now, the enemy is from within, our homeland is our battleground. Unfurl your Union Flags my friends and raise them on the highest peaks, we must stand together, for victory must reach, one for all and all for one, so we may win the war. Keep your heads, keep the faith, draw deep on your resolve; For your family and for Albion, all the things you love.

Lancelot.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance

The Boyhood of Raleigh

Celtic you have put me in the mind for some poetry, so we will kick off first with your welcome contribution by Rudyard Kipling.

The Stranger

The Stranger within my gate,
He may be true or kind ,
But he does not talk my talk -
I cannot feel his mind.
I see the face and the eyes and the mouth,
But not the soul behind.

The men of my own stock ,
They may do ill or well,
But they tell the lies I am wonted to,
They are used to the lies I tell ;
And we do not need interpreters
When we go to buy and sell.

The Stranger within my gates ,
He may be evil or good,
But I cannot tell what powers control -
What reasons sway his mood ;
Nor when the Gods of his far off land
Shall repossess his blood.

The men of my own stock,
Bitter bad they may be ,
But,at least , they hear the things I hear,
And see the things I see ;
And whatever I think of them and their likes
They think of the likes of me .

This was my father's belief
and this is also mine ;
Let the corn be all one sheaf -
And the grapes be all one vine ,
Ere our childrens teeth are set on edge
By bitter bread and wine .

Then I think we should have another Kipling favourite that hangs on the wall of the Chairman of the British National Party.

The Beginnings

It was not part of their blood,
It came to them very late
With long arrears to make good,
When the English began to hate.

They were not easily moved,
They were icy-willing to wait
Till every count should be proved,
Ere the English began to hate.

Their voices were even and low,
Their eyes were level and straight
There was neither sign nor show,
When the English began to hate.

It was not preached to the crowd,
It was not taught by the State.
No man spoke it aloud,
When the English began to hate.

It was not suddenly bred,
It will not swiftly abate,
Through the chill years ahead,
When Time shall count from the date
That the English began to hate.

But I, in a melancholy mood shall go for something I first read in the Water Babies by Charles Kingsley as a boy. Now I understand.

Young And Old

When all the world is young, lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen,—
Then hey for boot and horse, lad,
And round the world away;
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.

When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down,—
Creep home, and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among:
God grant you find one face there
You loved when all was young.

MrSmith has recommended the following by G.K. Chesterton

A Hymn

O God of earth and altar,
Bow down and hear our cry,
Our earthly rulers falter,
Our people drift and die;
The walls of gold entomb us,
The swords of scorn divide,
Take not thy thunder from us,
But take away our pride.

From all that terror teaches,
From lies of tongue and pen,
From all the easy speeches
That comfort cruel men,
From sale and profanation
Of honour and the sword,
From sleep and from damnation,
Deliver us, good Lord.

Tie in a living tether
The prince and priest and thrall,
Bind all our lives together,
Smite us and save us all;
In ire and exultation
Aflame with faith, and free,
Lift up a living nation,
A single sword to thee.

And Harry has send us this:

Song of the Bow
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

From "The White Company"

What of the bow?
The bow was made in England:
Of true wood, of yew wood,
The wood of English bows;
So men who are free
Love the old yew tree
And the land where the yew tree grows.

What of the cord?
The cord was made in England:
A rough cord, a tough cord,
A cord that bowmen love;
So we'll drain our jacks
To the English flax
And the land where the hemp was wove.

What of the shaft?
The shaft was cut in England:
A long shaft, a strong shaft,
Barbed and trim and true;
So we'll drink all together
To the gray goose feather
And the land where the gray goose flew.

What of the men?
The men were bred in England:
The bowman--the yeoman--
The lads of dale and fell
Here's to you--and to you;
To the hearts that are true
And the land where the true hearts dwell.

The Voice
The voice that whispered in my ear
In urgent tones precise and clear Said:
"God is hate and God is War
And God wants blood - so make it pour.
And if you sacrifice your life,
Leave behind your child, your wife,
You'll win for all eternity...
A place in Paradise. Trust Me!"

I packed explosives in a car,
Parked and waited near a bar,
Then watched the strangers milling round
Scream as thunder shook the ground.
Devastation everywhere... broken bodies lying there;
I'd brought them death, I'd brought them hate -
And won the key to Heaven's Gate.

But Heaven's gate I couldn't find.
Confusion, panic gripped my mind.
I searched and searched, but all I found was one
vast portal underground.

The Devil opened up the door.
I saw a hundred souls or more
Seated round in a fiery room,
Their faces wreathed in pain and gloom.
"Meet my bombers," Satan cried.
"Mine was the voice, the voice that lied.
"Join the dupes whose souls I've won -
"Deluded fools, every one."

Michael Shenton

Do you See?

Do you see the darkening of the clouds above?
Do you see humankind embracing hatred instead of love?

Do you see the darkness taking away the light?
Do you see evil becoming epitomised as what is right?

Do you see our children’s’ future dashed upon the rock of greed?
Do you see the forlorn poor with hands outstretched in need?

Do you see that there is no longer room for God?
Do you see the growth of corruption and the proliferation of fraud?

Do you see the old with labels do not resuscitate?
Do you see that their social liability sealed their fate?

Do you see the paranoia and fear that is abound?
Do you see where the origin of the source can be found?

Do you see the liars in their political nests of deceit?
Do you see you have the power to rise from beneath their feet?

Do you see, do you see, do you see?
If not open your eyes to reality.

Bridgend Patriot

O England!

O England! Where are your Hearts of Oak?
Those strong arms in service of thy country?
As your freedoms slowly die,
Boudicca's daughters stand silent.

O Wales! Will your Harlech Halls
Ring loudly with the baseless words
Of foreign folk and foes?
Far have Glyndwr's offspring fallen.

O Scotland! Will your banks and braes
Turn to bleak, unwelcome desert?
Unloved heath and heather dying
As the shade of Wallace weeps.

O Ireland! Such verdant pastures
Were never meant for alien temples.
Usurped by dark of heart and mind,
Boru's children watch mute or tamed.

Celts! Heed the clarion bell!
Saxons! Harken to the wild huntsman
As he rides across the fell!
Awake, Britons and secure this land!

By MrsJ

Tags: British National Party, poetry

'When' An Arab poem

There is a satirical poem titled "When," that has been posted on Arabic reformist websites including www.aafaq.org , reformist Saudi author and journalist Wajeha Al-Huwaider lamented what she regards as the conditions in the Arab world.

In the introduction to this poem, she wrote: "'When' is an ode to the troubles of the Arab citizen. Both men and women participated in its [writing], and it is still open to additions. This ode will be hung on the walls of the palaces of the Arab rulers, [1] so feel free to add you contributions."

[1] This is an allusion to the Seven Mu'allaqat, famous sixth century odes which, according to Arab legend, were hung in pre-Islamic times on the walls of the Qa'ba in Mecca.


When
"When you cannot find a single garden in your city, but there is a mosque on every corner - you know that you are in an Arab country…

"When you see people living in the past with all the trappings of modernity - do not be surprised, you are in an Arab country.

"When religion has control over science - you can be sure that you are in an Arab country.

"When clerics are referred to as 'scholars' - don't be astonished, you are in an Arab country.

"When you see the ruler transformed into a demigod who never dies or relinquishes his power, and whom nobody is permitted to criticize - do not be too upset, you are in an Arab country.

"When you find that the large majority of people oppose freedom and find joy in slavery - do not be too distressed, you are in an Arab country.

"When you hear the clerics saying that democracy is heresy, but [see them] seizing every opportunity provided by democracy to grab high positions [in the government] - do not be surprised, you are in an Arab country…

"When monarchies turn into theocracies, and republics into hybrids of monarchy and republic - do not be taken aback, you are in an Arab country.

"When you find that the members of parliament are nominated [by the ruler], or else that half of them are nominated and the other half have bought their seats through bribery… - you are in an Arab country…

"When you discover that a woman is worth half of what a man is worth, or less - do not be surprised, you are in an Arab country…

"When you see that the authorities chop off a man's hand for stealing a loaf of bread or a penny, but praise and glorify those who steal billions - do not be too surprised, you are in an Arab country…

"When you are forced to worship the Creator in school and your teachers grade you for it - you can be sure that you are in an Arab country…

"When young women students are publicly flogged merely for exposing their eyes - you are in an Arab country…

"When a boy learns about menstruation and childbirth but not about his own [body] and [the changes] it undergoes in puberty - roll out your prayer mat and beseech Allah to help you deal with your crisis, for you are in an Arab country…

"When land is more important than human beings - you are in an Arab country…

"When covering the woman's head is more important than financial and administrative corruption, embezzlement, and betrayal of the homeland - do not be astonished, you are in an Arab country…

"When minorities are persecuted and oppressed, and if they demand their rights, are accused of being a fifth column or a Trojan horse - be upset, you are in an Arab country…

"When women are [seen as] house ornaments which can be replaced at any time - bemoan your fate, you are in an Arab country.

"When birth control and family planning are perceived as a Western plot - place your trust in Allah, you are in an Arab country…

"When at any time, there can be a knock on your door and you will be dragged off and buried in a dark prison - you are in an Arab country…

"When fear constantly lives in the eyes of the people - you can be certain that you are in an Arab country."

The main stream media would have you believe that the British National Party is made up of racists. Thinking people know this to be false. The British National Party has the greatest sympathy for all people who are forced to live under the heel of an evil cult religion.

Our hearts go out to the contributors of the poem "When" and hope that their countries one day enjoy true religious freedom.

" He who draws noble delights from the sentiments of poetry is a true poet, though he has never written a line in all his life."

Time Out

Hmm. Thats it. I have had enough for today. Lets forget the Tri-Axis of evil and the real great guys in the British National Party and take Time Out.

Lets have some poetry. I'll start it off with this one I read in that excellent book by Charles Kingsley - The Water Babies. Didn't really understand it then - I was nine so I just read it again.


Young and Old

When all the world is young, lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen;
Then hey for boot and horse, lad,
And round the world away!
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.

When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down;
Creep home, and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among;
God grant you find one face there,
You loved when all was young.


Feel free to post one if you have the urge. You might mention why you chose it.

Poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge

We do this for Allah - And our 72 Virgins

I think it is time for a little poetry but to read the poem in question, we have to take a trip to Highest Fidelity out in the U.S.A. Read the poem here. Especially if your a Muslim.


Read it? So what do you think?

A quick note to our Welsh Supporters - the forum wars in Wales have started. Join me in the fight at ICWales. I could also do with some support at The UK Debate site. Lets not give them a walkover. Remember- Engage the enemy more closely.

Whilst here jump over to Infidel Bloggers Alliance and read about the latest attack on freedom of speech. Leave them a comment to show that at least some of us still have a backbone.