Monday, 4 June 2018

I Walked Behind An Agéd Tart

I walked behind an agéd tart,
Along a glorious country lane,
I did not see from whence she came,
She just appeared and passed in front,
And neither of us smiled or talked.
Her tired legs set wide apart,
Her gait unbalanced, slightly lame,
She toddled on yet seemed to gain
A deal of ground in not much time,
Her mouth, a gash, also askew,
Was painted in some pale red hue.
Her clothes were polyester, black,
Part see through chiffon at the back,
Perhaps no longer on the game,
Yet somehow she still had the knack,
Of advertising as she walked,
Her former trade, to men of slime -
The pleasures of her withered cunt.

Sunday, 27 May 2018

After The Wedding

The dog, having worn herself out,
In catching toys, thrown by bored boys,
Lies by the front door, 
Exhausted and stiff, as never before,
Half dozing and twitching, detached from reality,
Patiently awaiting the return of normality. 

Thursday, 5 April 2018

On TonyBenn’s Five Questions

Speak plainly, say what power you have got
And next tell where you got it from. Be clear,
You act as if you prize your power a lot,
And yet you barely ever seem sincere.
And in whose interests do you use it most?
Your own, we all suspect, but do reply,
Though don’t say for man’s good, you should not boast
In such vague terms, for we’ll find out your lie. 
And say to whom you are accountable.
You act as if accountable to none,
Leave havoc, problems insurmountable,
Insoluble, behind you when you’ve gone
To try out mad ideas in pastures new,
So last, say how we might get rid of you.

Friday, 16 March 2018

“We are fast approaching the stage of the ultimate inversion: the stage where the government is free to do anything it pleases, while the citizens may act only by permission; which is the stage of the darkest periods of human history, the stage of rule by brute force.“

On A Quotation From Ayn Rand

We’re almost living in that age,
Approaching now the final stage
Of ultimate inversion, when
Permission is required by men,
From government, who’ve placed a cage
About them.  How will they assuage
Their guilt, speak out and thus engage
In bolst’ring freedom’s cause, again?
Almost living,
Caged, can we measure, gauge
The distance left, can any sage
Predict the time, when in the pen
The bolt will drop?  And God, what then?
Too late to cry and scream and rage:

Almost living.

Let England Not Forget Her Precedence Of Teaching Nations How To Live”. (John Milton)

It seems as if we did forget
Our precedence, it seems so, yet
There’s time ahead, to make amends
To show true freedom to our friends.
Our politicians, soaking wet,
And weak as water might still bet
On licence winning, but the threat
To free men, free speech, always ends
It seems
In greater liberty.  The debt
We owe the past, the blood and sweat
Of men who died for freedom tends
To drive us, and pays dividends:
This fight’s not one we e’er regret,

It seems.

Tigger Warning

I must not make the miserable babies, 
frightened or alarmed,
I must issue a Tigger warning,
as I bounce into class in the morning.
So students might be armed
against a sea of bubbles,
and by opposing, burst them.
So that they might live
in the depths of Eeyorishness,
rejecting every positive thing and yawning
at old philosophies , while fawning
over half baked gloom 
and indulging in patronising mawkishness,
towards those they secretly, jealously,
imagine are blessed,
by being dreadfully oppressed. 

Friday, 9 March 2018

Brexit Vote

“In a revolutionary epoch, sometimes men taste every novelty, sicken of them all, and return to ancient principles so long disused that they seem refreshingly hearty when they are rediscovered.” 

We have taken every novelty
and sickened of them all,
the big ideas, of revolution
now seem shrunk and small. 
And so we have returned once more
to ancient rules and ways
and principles we knew before
the childish, changing days.
We have tasted every novelty
and sickened of them all,
returned to habits, long disused
in answer to the call
for nourishment and sustenance
and order, after the craze.
And there’s something refreshingly hearty
and something worthy of praise
in the principles and rituals
which brought harmony, after the fall.
We have taken every novelty
and sickened of them all
and we do not seek utopia
every diamond has its flaw.
We have taken every novelty
and they’re rotten to the core
we’ll make do with plain old sovereignty
and earthly common law.