Kathy

For Kathy.

Kathy spoke for a minute,
it may have been less:
“I’m being serious,
I want you to do

something for us.”

[The most powerful woman, in this reduced state,
rep(lied) through her teeth – not one of them straight.]

I vote for Kathy,
I vote for the traduced.
We’ll remove the ‘Fat Cats’ –
make sure your vote is used.


Original NEWS story here

Amended to ‘Kathy’ 17.05.17 – updated NEWS story here

London (2017)

Apologies to William Blake

I wander down each one-way street,
Near where the two way Thames flows.
A’glow on every face I meet
OS of weakness, screens of woe.

In every tweet of every Man,
In every Infants swipe of fear,
In every post: in every blog,
the Facebook lies I hear

How the Big Issue boys cry
Every converted Church appalls,
And the hapless homeless sigh
Lie in doorways in bankers’ walls

But most through midnight streets I hear
How the Tinder-swiped do curse
Blasts the new-born Infants tear
And blights with plagues the NHS hearse


[Original ‘London’, William Blake]

Neoliberalism – The Box Set


Democracy is now a box set,
an entrance and exit farce,
a short comedy of situation –
laughter at Ed Balls’ odd dance.

We – the strapped-in audience
– with our contract, paying-to-view,
watch these series evolve,
produced by the political few:

They’ll direct the rape of services,
and write-out aged stars,
they’ll script the tawdry screenplay,
and expect us to play the parts.

Our rights have been lost to our stories,
no repeat fees paid for mistakes,
the masked bureaucrats run the studio,
they sweep aside the costly out-takes.

“True Democracy – A Filthy History”:
We sit before our sixty-inch screens,
we are dealt the marked House of Cards:
On sofas no one hears your screams.


Please #Retweet For #Shelter

Each #TweetForShelter
@BritishGas will donate
£1 to Shelter,
with the aim to raise
twenty five thousand
of their profited quid:
Please tag your friends,
raise a million instead:
Today, quick-twitter,
do this one fleet tap,
retweet this quick poem,
to lift a kid from her trap,
and help a family,
without a secure life:
This one xmas tweet
could ensure they survive.

Look It Up


Today some librarians
were summarily shot,
others had their licked-fingers
lopped:

No fresh cash to buy,
no more books to improve –
libraries to re-define
‘desuetude’:

Once places to search
word-oddities,
where we pulled from the shelves
fat dictionaries,

but without re-filling
the reference sections,
truth will be left
to Google’s introjections.


NEWS STORY HERE

Would We Stand at Orgreave?

Would we dig deep shifts,
in the coughed guts of this land,
then take home the spat news
our livelihoods have gone?

Would we vote, stand,
to the voiced-charges they made,
that our coal industry, our life,
is not there, will not pay?

Would we shout and argue,
now the future isn’t ours,
and gather at police lines,
faith in this, our last cause?

Would we dare to hold
our sunburnt ground,
before the police horses,
and rage of police hounds?

On Clement’s second call,
when horses charge again,
would we remain, standing,
as honest pit men?

Would we have the strength
to battle any more,
or did Thatcher crush it all
in her short civil war?

Guardian Video

Grudge Match


No new-built Britannia,
no tax-pirate ship:
A small piece of Britain!
It’ll cost zillions of quids!

A gift for us all!
Worth every penny!
But pounds buy less,
unsure how many:

A floating gin palace?
Build no more yachts,
we’re pre-Brexit sunk,
we have spent the pot;

now England’s stuck
at Scottish loggerheads,
build deathly Successors,
load the warheads,

aim them at Holyrood,
and prepare for launch,
Eton mess made good
by Boris’ first war.


 

Pooh Bear Did Sh*t in the Woods

…here.

My last poem
about David Cameron:
Sadly, ‘Pooh’ will never
come back again:

Off to ponder,
‘tiddle-tut-tut’,
To wander the forests,
with his wife – Piglet;

Along the sandy paths
of the Algarve,
To plan their future –
not too hard,

Because, thinking a lot
taxes Pooh,
Unlike the Revenue,
who will still tax you;

So wave ‘bye-‘bye
to the short-shirted bear,
he left us in sh*t
piled up to.. [Go to first line]