Monday, 18 September 2017

Parson's Green

Parson's Green

There is nothing left to say, we are inured.
An I.E.D has partly done its thing,
Created mayhem, fear,
Caused stampede, crush, herd panicking.
We know the suspect, almost feel bored
By speculation as to his intent,
Spend more time pondering the fraud
That is the station's name, as we lament
The pastoral England which it represents,
A piece of it, still here, a token thing,
Beloved because a token of the past,
Is still acceptable, so long as no one mentions it,
So long as all nostalgia is stamped out,
Subsumed, encased in grey cement,
And now trampled by the terrified horde.
The horde who,  oft as not, cheered on the new,
Rejecting history, and all we knew,
In favour of a fresh trajectory,
Not realising the hypocrisy
Involved in seeking to impose their modern world view:
Pretending to equalise and to reject
Judgementalism and the moral code,
Has just the opposite effect,
It sets alight
A twisted will to power, of the bitter few.


Thursday, 27 July 2017

Justine Greening's Favourite Teacher.

"Give me a child for seven years
And I shall give you the man"
Give me a boy to fill with ideas
And I will give you a woman.
For the child is the father of the man,
But I shall reduce him, each day, to tears
And teach him to be the mother instead, as far as I possibly can.
Give me a child for seven years
And I'll fill up his mind with irrational fears
Discredit his instincts, and laugh and jeer at every masculine plan.
Give me a girl, let her live among queers,
And I shall give you the man.
She'll be butch, she'll be hard, and her learning will span
The sphere of the self, for other spheres
Might bring her in contact with old fashioned views, as one finds in the Bible or in the Quran.
Give me a boy to fill with ideas
And I'll teach him how we must never allow others to see us
As others see us, but control the narrative, always scan
The subtext for 'hate', in each conversation with his peers.
And I will give you the 'woman'
Who deals with flames with a fan
Who burns with a fury, resents the careers
Of those who mature as men. Give me Peter Pan
I'll give you Wendy, and s/he'll never follow the course that nature steers:
Give me a child.

Monday, 10 July 2017

Socialism

A strong desire to succeed
Is called, by socialists, a greed,
They say man should not wish to earn
More than his fellow man, but yearn
To take a share of riches, 'need'
A slice of general wealth.  This creed,
Recited every hour, will lead
To violence, for some men burn -
A strong desire
To take, being strongest. They'd impede 
All money making, kill the seed,
So riches couldn't grow, just turn
To dust. Some men will never learn,
Their wish to see the nation bleed,
A strong desire.

Monday, 12 June 2017

How It Really Is.

To 'love one's neighbour as oneself', requires
One first to love oneself, so one might know
What sort of thing love is, yet it transpires
One is not lovable. One cannot show
One's neighbour love therefore, and so instead
One settles for a paltry substitute -
One stops just short of wishing he were dead.
Since, if he were, one could not institute
One's little squabbles over trivia
And breathe them into fiery campaigns 
And elevate them to quadrivia -
Important subjects, which he then disdains,
Refuses to address, but out of spite,
Pretends that at some future time he might.

Tuesday, 30 May 2017

The Time Before And The Time Afterwards



In the time before, there was May, in bloom,
Parts of April, parts of June, 
As if a wand had been waved over a canvas, 
Seventeenth century, Flemish, 
Turning burnt umber background to lapis lazuli sky,
Tulips, lilacs, roses in suburban gardens,
Lawns with daisies strewn.
In the time before there was love and irritation,
There was 'do your homework, tidy your room'.
There were your clothes folded neatly,
Which you would wear again,
Little worries about your education.
There were photographs that did not make me cry,
Of you, in blue checked romper suit,
Golden curls, apple cheeks, laughing eyes, not camera shy.
In the time afterwards there is May,
Whose beauty I will never love again.
There will be June and the thought of your not seeing it,
Other people's children pouring out of school,
And your not being amongst them,
And the great tight pain in my chest as I try
And fail
To stop this sob becoming
One great primeval wail.



Wednesday, 10 May 2017

2 am

The cat has no conception
Of the crime 'cultural appropriation',
He's howling and shouting as if he's Siamese.
Stalking the long corridor,
In my direction,
Testing acoustics he has tested before,
Caring nothing for my disapprobation,
His worms need feeding and he can't cope with his fleas.

Tuesday, 2 May 2017

The Loved One

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2017/05/01/rise-live-stream-funeral-half-venues-can-now-broadcast-services/

Nearly 50% of Funeral Venues have the capacity to live stream ceremonies via the internet:

"Mr Joyboy has fixed up the camera in the corner,
Your loved one looks, so beautiful,
We've given him the beatific smile,
I'm sure every mourner,
Here, and those who can't attend, but dutiful
To the idea of "paying their last respects",
Watching online, will agree.

Some of Mr Joyboy's special effects:
Eg. the "scream" as the coffin enters the furnace, you'll see
Go down particularly well,
With our more youthful clientele.
While older mourners, the ones who still insist
On being an "in person attendee"  
Find it a bit upsetting,  who can resist
The temptation to turn a funeral into a scene
From a horror movie,
Especially when it's going to be seen, on screen?

For an extra fee
Mr Joyboy can arrange knocking
To come from the coffin, 
And one of the undertakers to rush up with a key
To try unlocking it
And letting your loved one free,
Only to be defeated,
As the coffin rushes towards the fire.
The inevitable end, can be filmed in slow motion
Then repeated,
To drive home the memory.


Of course we all aspire
To show our devotion 
To our loved one in ways that are dignified,
We don't want our relatives and friends to be mortified,
But movies are best with some kind of action.
Take advice from Mr Joyboy,
An expert in both film and funeral direction."