Turning

The year is turning
Switching once more
As one window closes
We open the door

New opportunities
To solve all our ills
If we offer some effort
And focus our wills

We've seen refugees
And more bombing raids
Political posturing
And diplomatic charades

The rich have got richer
All their nests to feather
The poor make do with less
Are we still in it together?

While the climate continues
To throw all it can
To prove that it's changing
And yet still we plan

To burn fossil fuels
To exploit and to frack
The only nature we have
And we won't get it back

But with new beginnings
We always have hope
There's no point in weeping
To hide away and mope

We must use our voices
Stand up and say
Think for the future
And choose another way

We must save this planet
As we must save ourselves
From the hurt we have wrought
And we can't invoke elves

Or Gods to save us
In whatever faiths we hold
There is only us
We must learn to be bold

Why not share an idea
Of peace in our time
Sing it or write it
In prose or in rhyme

And fight for the good
Which we all hold within
Express it, describe it
In a New Year
A new world to begin

Tree

When the seasonal greenery
Struggles to last
It's surely a sign
That Christmas has passed
And if it makes it through
The whole twelve days
It still sits with an air
Of general malaise

You see it browning
You see it wilting
Long arms drooping
And tall head tilting
Losing it's needles
Scatter by scatter
While too heavy baubles
Fall with a clatter

And it almost seems
To be unfair
To put it through
Such arboreal despair
Despite colour in the corner
That it's occupying
Day by day
It's slowly dying

Holidays

It’s the day inbetween

When nothing much goes on

Thegifts have grown boring

The guests have all gone

Still no sign in the air

That there might be snow

Perhaps there’s another sale

To which you can go

But the house is a mess

With the uneaten cake

Still piles of mince pies

And leftover steak

Chocolate wrappers

With wrapping on the floor

And you wonder what caused

That scratch on the door

At least you’ve got work

To go to tomorrow

Though that is a thought

That also brings sorrow

Wouldn’t it be nicer

To have more bank holidays

When the days are much longer

With warming sun’s rays

Overindulgence

A man this Christmas

Ate so much stuffing

When he went for a walk

He was huffing and puffing

A man this Christmas

Ate brandy pears

And as a result

Couldn’t get up the stairs

A man this Christmas

Ate so many buns

That at night he got

An attack of the runs

A man this Christmas

Drank so much wine

He fell and rolled

Down a steep incline

A man this Christmas

Ate so many sweets

He ended up sending

Some embarrassing tweets

A man this Christmas

And his mistletoe kisses

Got him deeply in trouble

With an unhappy Mrs

A man this Christmas

And his overindulgence

Did radiate out

With extreme refulgence

Aftermath

Feeling stuffed

And hungover

Unwashed dishes

And on the stove a

Stain you don’t

Remember making

During the cooking

And turkey baking

Floor is covered

In wrapping and crumbs

And underwear

That could be Mum’s

But at least the kids

Are still asleep

And the toys remain

In a scattered heap

It’s an overindulgence

Full of stress

A surfeit of food

And a crazy mess

So on Boxing Day

Run a nice warm bath

And forget about

The aftermath

Traditions

For some, tradition is an argument

For others it’s a glass of champagne

Many will have gone to midnight mass

A morning lie-in to gain

Many will have turkey for dinner

For others only a chicken will do

Duck, goose and rabbit are choices

But only for a very select few

Some will watch the Queen’s speech

Others make a point to ignore

Some will have drunk so much by this time

That they have started to snore

Do you play charades in the evening

Twister; A jigsaw or two

Are the kids tired out and fallen asleep

Or still making a hullabaloo

Whatever your traditions at Christmas

I wish you love and cheer

With plenty of food on the table

With friends and family near

Hustomten

In the dark morning
Of a cold Christmas Eve
And while you are sleeping
The house elf will leave

A pile of presents
Stacked up by the bed
And nobody sees him
Not even your ted

He'll spirit away
His job done for the year
In a tinkling of bells
Not that you'd hear

He has access to magic
And that's how he knows
Wrapping up what you want
In ribbons and bows

So it's time to say thank you
He'll know if you've not
And the gifts for next year
Might not count for a lot

You must always be grateful
When you're in your play pen
For the care and generosity
Of our Hustomten

City

Christmas tree city
Raindrop reflected buildings
Bauble glistening

Caroling city
Brass band on cathedral steps
Singing energy

Dressed and stuffed city
Sizzling anticipation
A feast for the eye

Fall

Should I pay this charge, they'll wonder
After all they've no one to call
And at their age it could happen at any time
A stumble and an embarrassing fall

But it's not something they've thought about before
But now there is fear in their mind
Whatever happened to the good in the world?
When people were helpful and kind?

It would give them peace of mind if they paid
And they're running out of cash so they're told
But they'll pay for nothing if they don't fall over
An insurance against getting old

http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/pensioners-charged-26-falling-fee-7033931

Adeus

Adeus to the special one
His reign is at an end
Culled after a title win
That he could not defend

So long to the operatic one
It's unlikely he'll be back
But he won't be missed by ref's
Objects of many an attack

It's a wave to the tragic one
Thrown in the managerial ditch
He could not raise his team again
To their former fever pitch

Goodbye to Mourinho
Without him the league's not the same
But there's truth in the old adage
That football's a funny ol' game

http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/football/34785525

Contempt

Is it the fault of a token treaty
Or is it just their contempt
That national parks are to be fracked
No longer to be exempt

Giving up our landscapes
And our fresh water supplies
On the lobbying of business
Under a pressure jet of lies

Energy won't be cheaper
And with invading drills deployed
Pollution will kill the wildlife
And beauty will be destroyed

But it's not us who'll reap disaster
We'll not be the ones who'll pay
It will be our children's children
With a wasteland in which to play

http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2015/dec/16/fracking-under-national-parks-approved-by-mps-amid-acrimony

Failures

When a planet saving treaty
Can be diluted
Made insignificant
By claims of a translation error
Then diplomatic failures
Are extant

And worst of all
They dress it up
As some kind of victory
Like Chamberlain's
"Peace in our time"
We know how that turned out to be

If we cannot come together
The same species
In our only world
It's unlikely we'll survive
The climatic changes
To be unfurled

The fear and the violence
As we fight
For scraps of land
We'll surely destroy humanity
More than any
terrorist band

http://www.theguardian.com/environment/blog/2015/dec/16/how-a-typo-nearly-derailed-the-paris-climate-deal

Though

Though the tinsel is up
And the baubles hung
Though lights scatter windows
And bells are being rung

Though the parties sing
With the happy songs sung
Though people let loose
With all caution flung

I can't help dwelling
On thoughts that have stung
With irritation stuck
On the tip of my tongue

As I stand alone
In the crowds I'm among
A feeling of age
In the world of the young

Panic

We are living in an age
Where truth or deception
Get just as much of
A clamourous reception

From the faking of a death threat
To making up attacks
The media aren't interested
In the banality of facts

But what do you expect
When you overemphasize
Panic, fear and hatred
And the need for a reprise

Where a bearded i-pad userRequires extra scrutiny
Where trusting one another
Is a kind of mutiny

And now the drums are thumping
We see danger at every turn
Every shape and shadow
Is a matter for our concern

It's true that as a country
We are being radicalised
But not quite in the way
Some commentators have surmised

So, sit back and watch
But don't believe all you see
The sounds that you are hearing
Have been tailored perfectly

Keep a lookout for the manacles
And the tightening of the chains
For this will be our future
Unless we use our brains

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-35093799

http://metro.co.uk/2015/12/08/tory-mp-lucy-allan-defends-faking-death-threat-over-syria-air-strikes-vote-5552989/

http://www.standard.co.uk/news/transport/muslim-forced-off-tube-after-commuter-complained-he-used-ipad-suspiciously-a3133436.html

Catch

A catch in the throat
Unlocking the boat
Running free on the waves of a crowd

A snort and a cough
With a hat you won't doff
An applause cracks the silence aloud

Sneeze while you wheeze
It's impossible to please
When the loudest are running the show

Like a bug we've all caught
Behaviour peer-taught
The few keep the many on tip-toe

Response

A major leap

Or a stumble backwards

Only binding each other

To fate

Money still talks

And the fossil fuels rule

Politicians spin it all

To inflate

But danger remains

For the small island states

Whose weathered beaches

Wither away

And flood risks

For the low lying lands

Will spell annihilation

Some day

Crops will not grow

And the poor will go hungry

But the richest will never

Go without

Water for drinking

Will grow scarcer and scarcer

As raised temperatures put us

In drought

So, honestly

What have they achieved

Than promises, to promise

To have a look

And all they’ve done

Is to fasten the lid

Of the stew pot in which

We’ll all cook

http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2015/dec/13/world-leaders-hail-paris-climate-deal

Unexplored

A joke upon a string of fairy lights
Strung up like a galaxy of stars
With truth disguised to appeal to all our frights
To scratch away at all our hardwired scars

And assuming gas giant proportions up on high
Then sucked with black hole speed into their world
Until we see their imagination in the sky
Raining down upon us; Death unfurled

If only there was science; Not so much fiction
We could navigate without our bullshit beams
Meet the knowledge void with true conviction
That everything we know is what it seems

Where else but the unexplored will danger loom?
And the asteroid will always spell our doom.

Aggression

Our only response is a knee-jerk reaction

To the civilians killed by a terrorist faction

In a rain of bombs to destroy and to burn

In which we will kill their innocent’s in turn

There are alternative strategies to take

Cut off the money for oil trades they make

And to take away routes by which they are armed

Would ensure that no ordinary people are harmed

Bombs don’t win wars, they’ve not done so before

History is a thing that you can’t just ignore

If anything it steeled the population’s resolve

The spirits of London and Dresden didn’t dissolve

And what is winning, in this situation

There’s no thought to the future Syrian nation

Two years past we were told that the man was very bad

And now we’re coming in on the side of Assad

We’ve not learned the lessons of 2003

When we toppled Saddam with victorious glee

Only to create a vacuum of power

And a situation we’ve caused to turn rather sour

And will we be safer any more than we were

Or will this be a reason they can use as a spur

“They want to destroy us”; “Let’s give them fear”

They’ll be ready to tell whoever will hear

So why not try peace, once and for all

Although this may be an unpopular call

For the hawks of this world whose shout is the same

As if the murder of anyone is nothing more than a game

I’m sad it’s not the outcome for which I have yearned

And that we’ve proved once again that we have not learned

Despite having gone through supposed civilising years

Aggressive reactions end in nothing but tears

Hate

We seem to get better
At subjecting each other
To cuelty, to insult
To hating one another

A chasm is opening
Between each human being
A rift of the species
Which affects our wellbeing

Where are the cards
Which say "You're beautiful"?
Where are the trolls
Who are hopeful, not cynical?

Or is it the media
Who only portray the worst
Ignoring the uplifting
And kindness for which we thirst?

http://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2015/nov/30/police-investigate-reports-of-fat-shaming-cards-on-london-tube

Split

To die alone
In our society
Is becoming more
Of a normality

Families split
And we live apart
We remain that way
Until our souls depart

So where's the love?
And the friendship bonds?
The community
To which our heart responds?

We are not islands
We need one another
Parent to child
Sister to brother

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-34943805

Fallacy

What has happened to democracy

When they commit this kind of fallacy

They don’t realise they only represent

The people; The one’s they’re trying to circumvent

And a process which attempts to find

Opinion; The state of the public’s mind

They’d prefer to dictate like the King’s of old

When serf’s had to do as they were told

But they bring themselves into disrepute

When they should be a little more astute

If they listened to what the public deem

Then they might be held in higher esteem

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/nov/29/labour-split-on-bombing-syria 

Blotted

Dreams of scorpions
As large as inky lobsters
Scuttle through my
Cloud blotted daylight brain.
Murky morning pervades all
As the Sun is tucked up
In bed awaiting solstice
In a new light year's dawning
Winter beckons; It's cold touch
Gutters the candle
Dripping wax
And sounding it's death; The raven croaks
Alongside rumbling engines
Under coal-dust skies

Fight

Every generation
Has to fight anew
For rights clawed back
By the powerful few

For each victory brings
It's own decade's defeat
The battle of the classes
Remains on repeat

Some say there's progress
Some say it's worse
But opinion is relative
To the size of their purse

Aren't we all human?
Can't we see we're the same?
And in the end there's no winner
To this pointless game

Rage

Where is the rage?
Where is the bile?
The poorest are suffering
And all of the while
The bankers get richer
Who created this mess
And politicians collude
To greater excess

Food banks are growing
Low pay is the norm
Benefits are cut
But the press misinform
They're not shirkers or scroungers
At least no more than the Royals
But as stereotyped villains
All our charity recoils

So where is the sympathy?
Our instinct to care
Where's the compassion?
Or do we not dare
To give into humanity
Let the ills flood in
Lest we get confused
As to where to begin

So we'll hide in our homes
We won't take to the streets
We'll stick on our SKY Box
And brand them all cheats
Let the Tories run roughshod
Over society as a whole
Until we're owned completely
Mind, body and soul

http://www.theguardian.com/film/2015/nov/23/ken-loach-benefit-sanctions-jeremy-corbyn-food-banks

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/nov/23/austerity-robbing-poor-george-osborne

Prayer

The cinema is no place
For any propaganda
And we should not feel
The need to pander
To the Church of England's
Cries of "Shame"
For it's not as benign
As they might claim

If anyone wants
To hear this prayer
They can go to a church
And hear it there
We go for the film
Not to be bombarded
By an institution
Archaic, retarded.

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/nov/22/cinema-chains-ban-advert-featuring-lords-prayer

Change

When the land is flooded
By the rising tide
And the deserts
Grow out from the fields

The animals perish
From lack of a water supply
And crops
See diminishing yields

When we've seen the destruction
Of fossil fuels burned
And results
Of deforestation

When we've been through hunger
And battles for supplies
In the liquefaction
Of civilisation

When our grandchildren's hopes
Are crumbled to dust
When their futures
Are arid, in drought

When humanity's survival
Hangs by a thread
Will there still be
Those who doubt?

And do the MP's
Who don't turn up for debates
Believe their descendents
Will be spared?

Or will they regret
Their neglect and their scorn
When they realise
That they should have cared?

Plague

Will we all be killed
By the common cold?
Will plagues once more
Worldwide take hold?

Have overused drugs
Condemned us all?
A pestilent beginning
To mankind's fall

Will societies cope
With swathes of the sick?
Will those who survive
Be the strong and the quick?

A brand new start
Or the end of mankind?
The death of a species
Or Homo Sapiens streamlined?

 http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-34857015

Future

To see you smile
To see you play
Takes the nastiness
Of the world away

To see you happy
And to see your wonder
I forget society
Has been torn asunder

And if in your joy
You make a mess
The tidying helps to
Ignore global stress

And despite the tantrums
You still give me hugs
To swaddle my thoughts
From terrorist thugs

When fear and violence
Makes it hard to cope
With you as the future
There is still hope

So thank you my darling
And all children out there
For lifting us adults
Out of sinking despair

Bombs

What will the bombs solve
But for the sating
Of a desire to lash out

A reactionary counter punch
Which does nothing
But prolong the fight

Being suckered into their war
Will generate sympathy
And generate recruits

Ratcheting up the fear
And the destruction
On an already wounded planet

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/nov/17/france-launches-fresh-strikes-on-isis-as-pentagon-chief-calls-for-global-coalition

Human

Is there some hole that with hatred you’d fill?
Does the fear and panic give you a thrill?
You’re human like the rest of us, and yet still
You have no compunction over wanting to kill

Hundreds have died in the name of what cause?
Did their screams or terror ever give you pause?
You’re human; And yet your brain just ignores
The sanctity of life when pursuing your wars

How is it that your conscience will abide
These deaths; Do you have God on your side?
We’re both human, yet it was I who cried
When I read how many innocent people had died

Iceberg

We are drifting
Aimlessly on a current
Of destruction

Burning the products
Of geological forces
Creating forces of our own

We are the iceberg
Calved away from nature's shelf
Heading for calamity

With eyes above the water
We cannot see the behemoth
That floats beneath

Our Titanic continents
Will be on the front line
To be sunk

http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2015/nov/12/collapsing-greenland-glacier-could-raise-sea-levels-by-half-a-metre-say-scientists

Unseeing

He's like a man in a very tall tree
Keeping his eyes tightly closed
Making his declarations; His policy
Without seeing how they are imposed

By being high he keeps his distance
From the ordinary; The hoi polloi
Unseeing peepers help to neglect
The lives that he would destroy

So let's take an axe or a chainsaw
And fell his eyrie to the ground
Force his gaze on the truth in the world
Proving his beliefs are unsound

http://www.theguardian.com/politics/2015/nov/11/cameron-hypocrisy-cuts-letter-oxfordshire-council

Remember

You may not like my lack of silence
But then we all remember in different ways
The wars and the undemocratic violence
In past years and in our current days

You can wear a poppy, or visit a grave
Write a poem or sign a petition
Lay your wreaths, but don't be slaves
For if it's personal to you, ignore the derision

So I'm not being rude, I'm not willing to conform
I'll ponder and think on what I stand for
I'll not stand in line for the cultural 'norm'
And remember to never forget there's no glory in war

Poppy

We stand by these flowers
The colour of blood
Who grew from deaths
And decay in the mud

They rain and reign over
The fear in the sand
But still pointlessness of war
We don't understand

To kill is to lose
A part of our soul
And with deaths in our name
The nation loses as a whole

We all have the stickiness
Of blood on our hands
And attached to our lapels
Which convention demands

So let's bleach these flowers
Like the bones of the dead
Let's send out a signal
For something else instead

Not the glory of war
Honour of death in a fight
But for solidarity in peace
Wear a poppy that is white

http://www.ppu.org.uk/whitepoppy/

Astray

When my shoulders stress

        In the struggle of the day

I find I write less

        My mind won't stay

On topics or themes

        It wanders astray

And by the end it seems

        That creativity's gone away

Patience

My patience is turning negative
I'm pissed off in anticipation
Even the taking of a few breaths
Won't rid me of this sensation

My patience is turning negative
At all these tantrums and complaints
It won't help to invoke the Devil
Or even God and all his saints

My patience is turning negative
Turning red in a darkened room
Waiting for the whining to come to an end
Or for my brain to explode. Kaboom!

Fizzle

There's no money for entertainment
For flashing lights in the sky
The cash for Catherine Wheels has gone
The Rocket fund run dry

No sparklers lit for tiny hands
Out of toffee apples on sticks
We can no longer afford to celebrate
There's no one to pay for our kicks

As a country it seems we've fizzled out
With no spark to light a fuse
As the age of austerity bites harder and harder
You wonder what else we'll lose

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/nov/05/fireworks-displays-bonfire-night-uk-austerity

Exist

It's almost as if they don't exist
In the minds of these powerful men
Though you wonder how they could be missed
They crop up again and again

Throughout the world's history
There are women playing their part
But to ignore them is more than a tragedy
And it goes right down to the heart

Women aren't given consideration
Whatever you might want to believe
And we should be embarrassed as a nation
That there's no equality in what you achieve

http://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2015/nov/03/new-uk-passport-design-features-just-two-women

Strike

Gawping at the electronic boards
As if they might suddenly change
To say a DLR is going towards
Their destination

Shouting to those who are crammed inside
To cram and squeeze themselves a little more
All because of the dent to his pride
At being a little late

Cyclists stacked up waiting in a queue
For the lift to take them down
Despite the signs there still will be a few
Who cycle in the tunnel

When a strike comes these are the looters
Who take advantage when rules break down
Making life harder for other commuters
We are all just trying to get to work

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-34700179

Mist

Sunshine is like bathing
In the warm glow of love
Blustery winds are the epitome
Of forces out of our control

Heavy rain belies bitter sadness
Of loss or of death
Snow provides the chill, cold blanket
Of loneliness and lost memory

But mist is the most human
Beguiling us to believe what we wish
Our own prejudices forming distant shapes
Drawing conclusions from the fuzzily half-seen

Clouding out our judgement
And letting us live within our hopes and fears
Keeping us fogged from danger and precarity
So we can dream beyond those opaque borders

Dispatches

As midnight's veil of dark approaches
The time for rats, the time for roaches
A mist descends to frame the world
And the path from living to dead unfurled
When we awake to our darkest fears
That bring us shivers and torrential tears
Palpitations of a fevered heart
And shuddered bones are smashed apart
Those terrors are breathing; We give them life
As our hopes hang troubled on the edge of a knife
When a magic word can speak them away
Bringing up the sun of a new dawns day
So remember, it's you who has the power
To bring to dust their ivory tower
If they might listen, then they might heed us
Halloween was a time for dispatching leaders

Pen

The pen it seems has lost its strength
Ink is not what once it was made of
And our words are only virtually there

A text or tweet spun out in an instant
Unconsidered, unromantic, lacking colour
Prosaic pixels are defining our world

But our access to knowledge is chipping away
Bursting dams of censure, smashing chains
Breaking hegemonic wisdom and freedom

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/oct/30/bic-teenagers-pens-dead-paper-handwriting-relic

Answer

When is an answer not quite an answer?
When it's an answer to a Prime Minister's Question

When it goes round to more houses than a travelling salesman
And barely quite reaches suggestion

They might call them soundbites, but don't try to chew
They'll more than likely give you indigestion

The traffic lights of truth are all stalled on red
In a tailback of dishonest congestion

http://www.theguardian.com/politics/2015/oct/28/jeremy-corbyn-six-tax-credit-questions-david-cameron-straight-bat

Detached

You wonder what
Goes through the mind
Of a man
With that kind
Of money

That he would set
Such great store
To make an effort
To vote the poor
Poorer

That someone could
Be so detached
With priorities
That are mismatched
To life

For some with which
He has some claime
Down the years
To have entertained
With truth

The truth of love
The truth of hope
The very things
Which help us cope
With misery

But his phantom
Technicolour world that's
Filled with Bombay Dreams
And dancing cats
Is off the rails

Furnace

A blast furnace
In your lap
In a hug from
A fevered child

Arms wrapped around
Like bands of scathing metal
Breath like molten
droplets of fire
Skin radiating
Like a second sun

It's then your hot fire
Burns the brighter
Amidst fear
And desire for recovery

Unmoved

Sitting silently
A train filling the siding
Has it turned to stone?

Despite the delay
It's unmoved to commuters
They cannot begin

Unfathomable
No information divulged
As the dawn creeps up

Ravens

What is truth?
And what is memory?
When we look back
What do we see?

A labyrinthine
Convoluted past
A mirage of magic
And shadows cast

Flickering torches
In tunnels of the mind
Where we see what we think
We want to find

Perceived wrongs
And imagined slights
You could have succeeded
Given fairer fights

Or of a warming
Rose tinted glow
In the hope that it was better
All those years ago

These twin ravens
Can misdirect us
Confuse, confound
And disconnect us

Beware that your memory
May be leading you astray
Truth isn't what it always seems
In the cold hard light of day

Conscience

Money has no conscience
It is neither good nor bad
It is the men who wield it
(And it is always men)
Whose deeds are motive clad

Not caring where it comes from
More interested in it's uses
They'll hold hands with dictators
(Elected, hereditary or otherwise)
And ignore all their abuses

When it comes down to it
What's stronger than greed or lust
Principles are out the window
(Or get blown away)
By the slightest political gust

Honesty is just not valued
It has no intrinsic worth
Yet the power of generosity
(Despite being incalculable)
Really doesn't cost us the Earth

Instead it's all the fighting
Over territory and resources
It's only death that battle brings
(Despite any talk of honour)
Shared amongst opposing forces

And the real truth never goes public
War can be in anyone's name
It never matters who starts it
(The winner is the most just)
In the continual thronal game

So is all hope for us lost?
It is if we let them win
We must clamour for integrity
(Even if they pretend to be deaf)
Making an almighty din

Tell them they can't put money
Ahead of what is right
Freedom of speech and opinion
(Also gender, race, colour and creed)
Commanding only from a moral height

Masters

As a member of the serving class
You have to know your place
Be grateful for our magnanimity
In allowing you to clean our space

We pay you enough money
To entice you out of your bed
But we are not responsible
For your shelter, that you are clothed and fed

You see, you're not all that important
And you really don't work that hard
You try entertaining foreigners
Or keeping the country constantly on guard

You think you should be treated as human
No. You're insignificant, you're small
We are your lords and masters and
You'll wish you said nothing about pay at all

http://www.theguardian.com/society/2015/oct/19/foreign-office-cleaners-interserve-living-wage

Uncoupling

Is this a conscious uncoupling
Between the cost of living
And the cost of a roof
Over our heads

Our overheads
With the deletion of rent
Are diminishing
As is our ability
And our hope to buy

We are trapped
Like the hamster in a wheel
Scampering faster
To stay in the same place

Staying in the same place
Even as our needs
And families increase
Conditions more cramped

The cost of moving
Is a barrier we cannot leap
Kept in situ
By the watchtowers and rabid dogs
Of unscrupulous landlords
And foreign buyers
Of buy-to-letter's
And unhelpful government

Is it conscious?
We'd like to think not
But if so, more shame on them
As they pull the ladder higher
Out of reach, out of sight
And at the same time
Pulling the rugs from under our feet

http://www.theguardian.com/money/2015/oct/16/average-monthly-rent-hits-record-high-of-816-highlighting-housing-shortage

Selection

It's like getting to jump the starter's gun
Before the pistol fire
Or winning a race of motor cars
By slashing your opponents tyre

Given a chance at the putt again
Or being shown an open goal
A bigger wicket to aim at
When it's your team's time to bowl

The only thing selection brings
Is advantage reinforced
While the poorest get pushed further down
Opportunity divorced

http://www.theguardian.com/education/2015/oct/15/first-new-grammar-school-in-50-years-what-you-need-to-know

Tie

As a species
We make first impressions
Quicker than the blink of an eye

With our gut
We make our decisions
On prejudice and don't question why

But if we change
The processes of thought
Then it might be time to say goodbye

To choking
And the discomfort wraught
By the wearing of a tie

http://www.theguardian.com/media/2015/oct/13/robert-peston-bbc-justin-webb

Dildo

Would every girl in this class
Please leave her penis outside the door

It's a grossly offensive weapon
Which I truly do abhor

You wield it like you're showing off
How proud of it you are

Dynamite anatomy
Which can leave a mental scar

So lock it up, hide it away
There'll be no prod or poke

Or you'll risk the ire of rifle loving
Wholesome gun toting folk

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-34507760?ocid=socialflow_facebook&ns_mchannel=social&ns_campaign=bbcnews&ns_source=facebook

Chair

I wake up in the chair
By your bed in the night
You're still asleep
With your toys, tucked in tight

My legs have gone stiff
Muscles steeped with cold
Evidence that earlier
You wouldn't sleep when you were told

You hadn't had a nightmare
That seemed fairly clear
And it wasn't that the dark
Had filled you with any fear

You were just being clingy
Demanding hugs from both of us
And yet after you got them
You carried on with your fuss

Fighting and complaining
You would not lie down at all
Until finally you gave it up
Staying still in dissenting sprawl

And as you slowly drifted off
I gave comfort by your side
Until I sank into the chair
To catch up on sleep denied

Wish

It’s a tragedy for peace

This inability

For some to cease

Bombs and bloodshed

For their cause

And the dealing of death

Without a pause for thought

For the innocence

Of the lives they take

Or the dents that they make

In the civility

Of our society

Leaving us with pain and anguish

Over hope and love

Against our every wish

Light

There is the light of inspiration
That can fire and traumatise a nation

The light of dark clouds blowing in
Which chafes against the growing din

The light that's seen through autumn trees
Like orange blood that weakens knees

Or the light of summer sun-kissed ocean
Which tugs you with a forward motion

The light of love's exploding force
Ending in bitterness, despair and divorce

And the light with which we see the world
Truth and pain seen clear unfurled

So do we keep the naivity of night?
Or open the box and bring forth the light?

Cohesion

Torn apart,
And then privatised
Decommissioned, sold,
Or carved up to be franchised
Closed down, or amended
With their terms revised
And yet it's the immigrants
Who are being chastised

Schools have to change
All their priorities
And no longer answerable
To local authorities
A stretched NHS
Struggling with capacities
And yet the blame
Is on ethnic minorities

The railways, post office
Now held for financial gain
And we're having to justify
The BBC again
They say "Go Home"
With their ad campaign
Criticising immigration
With the same refrain

The truth behind
The country's lesion
Are their closures, and destruction
Region by region
Setting poor against poor
Weakens the glue of adhesion
And it's there you will find
Our lack of cohesion

Lemsip

It's a flavour of Autumn
That goes with a cold

Hot like the fiery colours
Of the turning leaves

And lemon tartness
Of the chillier winds

Steaming like windows
Condensating

In a fevered turning on
Of the heating

And swallowed
With brittle-sharp pain

Of a year
In arthritic old age

Tug

The grey swirling soup
On the screen
Shapes burst and recede
Into recognised formations

Snowstorm minatures
In a black sea background
A floating miracle
In a bag of life

And then the fleeting glimpse
Pulsation
And your heart beats
In sympathy

Stirring you into smiles
Of relief and wonder
As you feel the tug
Of parenthood again

Bribe

Being paid to increase
Their wealth
To the detriment
At the expense
Of our health

And being bribed
To allow
Some of us to die

But it's also
A sign of mistrust
In their professionalism
Their ability
To do what they must

That they would have
To be incentivised
And bought despite
All that they've been taught.

Leading us to
The reasons why
Some will be allowed
To just walk away
And die

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-34421115

Renewal

Positive thinking
For the hope and renewal
Of society

Changing politics
Honest and discussion led
Old is the new New

The future is love
Let's grasp opportunity
To benefit all

http://www.theguardian.com/politics/commentisfree/2015/sep/29/the-guardian-view-on-jeremy-corbyns-conference-speech-he-won-a-hearing-not-the-argument

Witness

I see and feel sorry
For them standing
At the stations
During weekdays
And school vacations
In all weathers
Rain and sun
The chilly cold wind
Thinking
They'd have every right
To rescind
Their place
Especially since
They are ignored
As they witness
The commuters
The hassled, the bored
A lonely vigil
With their pamphlets
On a rack
But still next week
I know
They'll be back

The Dragon in the Garden

The little dragon’s quest was almost over as he peered over the high wall of St George’s garden. He could see his quarry in the distance, looking like a pool of blood he thought.

He hopped onto the top of the wall and looked down. It was a long drop and he still didn’t quite have the strength in his wings to fly. He swallowed. He jumped but landed awkwardly on his leg. Great, he thought, I’m a goner if there are any dogs.

The dragon limped through the garden, skirting the wildest looking plants. Their defences look like they could be painful, he thought. He could scent what he was after and the smell of victory was getting closer.

But all of a sudden a patch of swaying vines loomed up in front of him, and stretching to either side as far as he could see. He had no choice he realised, he would have to go through them. He charged.

The mass of vines looped and swung as they sensed the invader, but the dragon hopped and jumped, skipped and dodged. He could just see daylight ahead when one vine slapped him hard from behind and sent him spinning.

Dazed and confused on the floor, his head felt like it would explode. Opening his eyes, the daylight burst in like a rocket, but the dragon sensed rather than saw the danger closing in on him. A couple more jumps and I’m there he thought, willing himself up. His heart was thudding.

A couple of vines swished with killing blows, but they only hit dirt as the dragon scampered out to safety. He stood panting, with his sore leg and head. But I’m still alive, he thought, and I’ve still got a chance.

And looking up he saw what he was after. He was so excited he forgot his injuries and ran forward. He almost failed to spot the dagger-like thorns protecting his prize but managed to pull up just in time. His eyes widened at the size of the spikes.

Carefully he stepped off the grass. This isn’t going to be about speed, he thought, but agility and precision. Controlling his breathing he crawled and stretched, weaved and twisted himself a path through the sharp points.

Until there it was in front of him. He set to work with his teeth and claws, sap running down his jaw as he nibbled away at the stem. It was tough and seemed to take forever. But before he knew it, he’d worked it loose and it was in his little hands.

Immediately he could feel an extra strength glowing in his wings. But as he stretched them out he was suddenly wracked with pain on one side. Turning to look he could see one of the sword-like thorns had caught his shoulder.

The pain was so great that his head began to throb again, so too his leg. The dragon swooned and breathed deeply. As he did so, the scent of the flower in his hand worked like a painkiller and he returned to consciousness before he could topple over.

Smiling and spreading his wings more carefully this time, the dragon took off. Circling about above the garden, he could see the gardeners all running out, looking like ants from high up, and shaking their fists at him.

But the dragon took no more notice and turned westwards for home. I may have a leg, shoulder and head injury, he thought, but I have what I came for: A big, blood red rose to take back to my fathers.

Rights

Oh what a wonderful fellow
He's come across as a lovely chap
To have gotten straight down to business
Without diplomatic mishap

After all, who needs humanity
Or any of the basic rights
And for our Chancellor its obvious
It's money in which he delights

But of course, he could have come unstuck
At the mention of room for a spare bed
Or of the disabled with income cut
Who have now ended up dead

And as such you cannot blame him
He'd be justifiably frit
That if he'd called them out on abuses
They might call him a hypocrite

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-china-34356097

Wasteful

It's not always the public's fault
For the waste they generate
Sometimes it's manufacturers
Who have got us in this state

A wrapper inside a carton
Inside a box inside a wrapper
And with some pretty colours
It really does look dapper

But if companies kept it simple
There would be so much less waste
And we'd be able to keep our bins
Empty, clean and chaste

Battle

It's a battle
A gender war
Where they're
Constantly undermined
Women paid less
Then penalised
But the rich are wined
And dined
Offered jobs
By family
Nepotism ingrained
But only for men
First born, white
And not
Homosexually stained
If that weren't enough
They're demoted, despite
Attempting
To do their jobs
You wonder what women
Will have to do
To beat these bigots
And snobs
As they're cheated
By inequality
Over the many
And by the sexist few

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/sep/24/sumption-law-sexism-quotas-male-privilege-women-judiciary

http://www.theguardian.com/education/2015/sep/24/proposed-student-loan-changes-would-affect-women-and-poor-most-study

http://www.theguardian.com/football/blog/2015/sep/23/chelsea-eva-carneiro-integrity-fa-premier-league

Pacts

Social promises,
Have an expectation.
Of inebriation,
And indiscretion.
Drunken pacts
Taken in crowded
Taverns; No longer
Tax the souls,
In darkened caverns.
But to state
I digress,
Into a mode
Of undress, unknown
And naked; Lying
Like the truth
Between ruthlessness
And compassion.
"Where's the passion?"
You might say.
But for some
The dawning is
An early warning.
In the morning of the day
The early hour
Provides the shock.
And the sense
That no earthly shower
Will ever get you
Out of hock.

Pill

No longer dealing in life
But dealing out death
No more for the profit of mankind
But simply profit
Dressed up
With a sugar pill
Of promises
And it must be swallowed
Hook, line and caplet
Side effects are the choices:
Death or debt

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-34320413

Lungs

"Advancement through technology"
But for who?
As they turn the wheels at full speed
In their own favour
Steering their computers
To disguise the truth
Driving roughshod over rules
That protect our air
Our lungs
Our environment
Our health
Going through the gears
To protect their profits
At our expense
"The Car" is indeed the killer
In so many ways

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-34311819

Clock

When is a clock
Not a clock
When it's a bomb
Of course
Especially
When the boy in the dock
Has a Muslim name
And brown skin
And won't give up
On his claim
That it's only a clock
Whatever spin
Whatever hands turn this
One way or the other
It's never clock-wise
To pander to fear

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/picture/2015/sep/18/ahmed-mohamed-its-a-clock-with-a-built-in-racism-detector

Borders

It's borders
That keep us apart
Stopping us
From reaching out
With our hearts
With our love
And our capacity
For compassion
Leaving us
Uniformly regimented
Stuck
In the same old fashions
And whatever our gender
Our race
Or our colour or creed
Whether we are living
With plenty
Or desperately
In need
If we let
These borders dissolve
And let the boundaries
Melt away
We may find
A shared joy
In keeping hardship
At bay

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-34275400

Anthem

Would you sing a song to the Queen?
A receiver of government handouts
Is it really as much of a scene
As the European refugee routs

A song full of pomp, of circumstance
Religious as much as monarchist
To a woman who acceded through chance
And given the job through fate's twist

Would you sing a song to the Queen?
A symbol of all that is wrong
A rapture to a medieval machine
That's been around for far too long

http://www.theguardian.com/politics/blog/live/2015/sep/16/corbyn-faces-shadow-cabinet-split-over-abolishing-benefits-cap-politics-live

Without

To live without cash
No stash
Of money in the bank

Work and generous gifts
It lifts
Your spirits to life's joy

Man and nature combined
Entwined
Dependent on each other

http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2015/sep/15/living-without-money-what-i-learned

Jez

Jez he did it
Jez is the man in charge
Aiming to boost our politics
To give it a big recharge

And we won with some panache
With first round majority
Built on his desire
To oppose austerity

The beard made no difference
Harking back to Keir Hardie's time
With straight talking politics
Instead of a soundbite mime

Jez he did it
But let's see what he does now
Will he keep the momentum going?
Will we see a ruffled Cameron brow?

Black

They prefer to frack
Than have a crack
At renewable energy
They must be getting
Something back
From the fossil companies

Displaying a lack
Of strength, of back-bone
In the face of lobbying
They've given in
And changed their tack
In favour of gas drilling

And now they'll attack
And cleave and hack
At unprotected countryside
Our environment
Will take the whack
Our nature will have died

So when the water's black
We'll have to pack
And be sent to biodomes
And all because
They chose to frack
We will have lost our homes

Fence

The neighbour kicked down the fence today
She seemed to think it was the only way
The only opportunity for her
To get a new fence...Err?

She wasn't happy with the one she's got
And the hadn't the time to let this one rot
So she stuck in her boot and out the planks flew
We watched, well, what else could you do?

The trouble is, her theory had holes
As now did the fence, between its end poles
The repairs were made with the planks she kicked out
And you begin to wonder, what was that all about?

Reign

Long has she rained over us
Like a menacing, black, storm-cloud
With her dysfunctional family
Hereditarily endowed

Long has she reined over us
With whips ready in the hand
Harnessing us in servitude
To an inbred, arrogant, band

Long has she reigned over us
For sixty-three years too long
In a system decayed and archaic
It's time to sing a republican song

Codes

No one ever tells
A boy to change
His clothes.
His trousers never
Show too much
Ankle; His shirts
Too much
Of his neck.
A T-Shirt is never
Too short; Shorts
Are always
The right length.
Hair is never
Cut in a style
Considered provocative.
Yet these
Are the rules
And codes we impart
On girls, as we
Teach them
How they should live.

http://www.theguardian.com/education/2015/sep/07/restrictive-school-dress-codes-student-outrage

Indian

Autumnal sunshine
Red-rimmed leaves and golden light
Indian summer

Blue and hazy skies
Spring from chilly dark mornings
The mixed up seasons

Warmer themes reprised
Before the requiem hymn
As the year plays out

Head

I wish I knew what went on
Inside your little head
The reasons why you woke
When you should be asleep in bed
Or the cause of screams
Of those sudden tears
Is it anger, frustration,
A manifestation of your fears?

I wish I knew more
So that I could comfort you
Sometimes a hug doesn't seem enough
Compared to all that I could do
But even you are not aware
Of what conflicts your mind
As quickly they come, they go
And we can all unwind

Threat

While we celebrate
A new date
In our children's lives

A special day
Upon life's way
Proud parents, husbands, wives

An education
Is a celebration
To be grateful for

Safe environment
To ease development
And no threat of war

Reach

Reach out your arms
For an embrace
Have a think about the horrors
That others face
Persecuted for gender
Colour, religion and race

Reach and hold them
In your arms
Take heed of these
Humanitarian alarms
And those held at the mercy
Of all the global harms

Reach out and take them
By the hand
Show the world you are
Prepared to take a stand
Forcing those in charge
To your compassionate demand

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/sep/01/icelanders-call-on-government-to-take-in-more-syrian-refugees

Bank

I wonder why there are so few
Is it in trepidation
Of a new idea
A fear of the unknown
Or that perhaps
Once those seeds
Have been sown
There is no way of knowing
Where they settled
Or the direction
In which the wind was blowing?

http://www.theguardian.com/science/2015/aug/31/britains-national-sperm-bank-wants-men-to-prove-their-manhood

Holiday

The August bank holiday

And it’s teeming down with rain

There’re rivers by the roadside

Gurgling down the drains

Each garden blade of grass

Is soaked with glistening drops

And you run the puddle gauntlet

When you go out to the shops

The freezer’s full of burgers

Salmon fillets and chicken wings

The fridge’s relish and coleslaw chocked

Along with other salad things

You wonder what you were thinking

When you had to go and say

Let’s all have a B-B-Q

On the August bank holiday

Smell

A death smell lingers
From the abandoned truck
The putrid remains
Of desperation
Of bad luck

We can never know
That raging belief
To gamble so much
On fate
On a thief

Their tragedy is silence
Unknown and unspoken
Showing fractures
In a world
That is broken

 http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-34083337

Arms

A tragedy encased in gunmetal
It's a slippery subject
Like gunoil
As the sliding parts
Of each side
Work themselves
Into an explosive fury

For some, each event
Is a warning shot
That says there should
Be more control
For others
A national safety catch
Is a restriction,
A stripping down
Of their rights and freedoms

Whatever the firearm future holds
The residues of murder
Of premature deaths and suicides
Remain upon the fingertips
Of administrators
As each calamity
Rings out and echos
Across a nation

http://www.nytimes.com/2015/08/27/opinion/lessons-from-the-murders-of-tv-journalists-in-the-virginia-shooting.html?_r=0

Human

What special apes we are
The powers we hold
With our minds
The ideas we store
In our hands

Lives we can transform
And fates redirect
We could call ourselves Gods
If not for humility

And one wonders
What we can and will achieve
When we finally realise
How incredible
Each and every one of us is

Up

Maybe I am a romantic fool
But surely you should take pride
In what you do
Have a goal you want to achieve
Or you might as well get up...
And leave

Maybe by hoping you become ripe for a fall
Thinking the best of others like banging
Your head to a wall
If enthusiasm won't pick them up in the flow
Then you might as well get up...
And go

Maybe life is there to make you weep
Positivity is a hard frame of mind
In which to keep
And if you can't feel the joy and fun
Well, you might as well get up...
And run

Maybe these feelings will drift away
That somewhere down the line
Is a bright sunny day
But if the present won't keep you satisfied and alert
Then you might as well get up...
And desert

Atmosphere

Sultry sensation
Of humid, breathless, mornings
Thickened atmosphere

Edgy mutterings
Within uneasy quarters
Pressure unrelieved

And as it lingers
With potential storm building
Raindrops are required

Accusation

From out of the blue, an accusation
A lightning fork from the sky
And with it there is no explanation
No reason to tell you why

Words on a screen that make you shake
Upset and emotions take hold
Lying in bed, worried, awake
With replies that're best left untold

So now you wait for it to be resolved
Say your piece when given a chance
You might find out how the matter evolved
And whose tune is leading this dance

Fictions

Do they truly despise the poor
Or have they spun a web of lies
To deceive themselves into a war
Which they could not have fought
If ever they attempted
To spare a thought for their victims

Fictions cannot be strange to them
Evidenced by their depictions
Of the so-called-lazy, and work shy
Simply caricatures dreamed up
By crazy, swivel-eyed loons
But it's them it lampoons

And so to their latest foray
Showing that nothing
Will get in their way, not even
Double speak and misrepresentation
To sneak in a story
To deceive and distract
In which can be found no basis or fact

http://www.theguardian.com/society/2015/aug/18/dwp-admits-making-up-positive-quotes-from-benefits-claimants-for-leaflet

Needed

Isn't an opposition supposed to oppose?
To disagree, to sometimes propose
An alternative way, a different route
And sometimes, when needed, to stick in the boot

To stand up for those who didn't vote for the victor
To show how the policy can be both looser and stricter
Not simply to abstain, or acquiesce
Bu when needed, to shout, and make a protest

They don't have to be at odds with everything said
But neither to jump in and share the same bed
Those wielding power have an obligation
While opposition is needed for the good of the nation

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/gordon-brown-wades-into-labour-leadership-race-and-urges-them-to-become-a-credible-party-once-more-10457922.html

Jobswap

Rather than sending
These out of work teens
On courses to fill forms
They should start the reforms
On the House of has-beens

It'd be so much cheaper
To pension them off
Giving work experience
For very little difference
Between job-seeker and toff

Neither of them work
But some out of choice
And though it might sound crazy
It's not the poor who are lazy
They just don't have a voice

http://www.theguardian.com/society/2015/aug/17/unemployed-young-people-work-boot-camp-tory-minister

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-33947758

Begin

When will we begin
To see the humanity
In each other
When will we call
Our fellow life travellers
Sister and Brother

When will we choose
To give our help
To those in need
When will we end
Prejudice and discrimination
Suffering and greed

When will we learn
To share our little world
In love and peace
When will we stop
War and conflict
Let aggression cease

When will we build
A safe home
Of which we can be proud
When will the future
For our children
Be endowed

Despair

The waking hours are salt packed
Dried out and conserved
Bittersweet like tears
That won't run for the reserved

The nights drawn out and endless
A charcoal riven streak
Colours your brain like black lung
Rigidly antique

The cycles becoming spirals
Dragging you despairingly down
You've been peddled an event horizon
An ill-fitting black hole gown

Clouds

These black tinged
Grey puffy
Billowing fluffy clouds
Seem intent
On smothering us
In our sleep
Stifling our lungs
With their closeness
Like crowding bullies

They threaten
To drown us
With their drip dropping
Chinese water torture
Raindrops
Hovering with a weight
Of airy mountains
Ready to spill
Their baggage
Like overweight travellers

And as they brood
Like sultry teenagers
Or squabbling lovers
Their brows
Could darken further
Into a furrowed storm
Or their cares
Could disperse
With the breeze
Into a sun-tinged
Blue skied smile

Flies

You smile and you shriek
When you see me
We play hide and seek

With legs going pump
You run in a circle
Then you decide to jump

There is so much glee
In your face
I can't help feeling happy

Then you make my day
When you reach for a hug
And the world flies away

British

We are becoming
An island fortress
Of barbed wire coasts
Border police and violence
Arrest and discrimination
Living in constant fear
Of a never ending unknown
A threat that fingers its way
Into our privacy
Where everyone else
Is a potential enemy
And source of danger
While as individuals
We develop prickles
To keep the world at bay
Firewalls disconnect
From our personality
And our humanity
War-fleeing refugees
Are marauding swarms
While the sick and vulnerable
And victims of violence
Are the feckless workshy
Thus our fabled British values
Can be summed up
"Hold what you have
Fight to keep it
And damnation
To the rest of the world"

http://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2015/aug/09/african-migrants-threaten-eu-standard-living-philip-hammond

Upset

A tantrum from nowhere

From out of the void

Something I’ve said

Has got you annoyed

Probably that simple word

That all parents know

The opposite to "Yes"

So you stamp on my toe

Or pull at my clothes

Take a bite of my arm

When a few moments ago

You were happy and calm

The tears now are streaming

You scream and you shout

With a whine that continues

As you run about

But because I love you

I set down my mug

Put out my arms

And reach for a hug

You sigh at my shoulder

Bury your head in my neck

Holding me tight

Leaning back for a peck

Though still I’m confused

There’s no reason or rhyme

For most of these upset’s

There’ll still be a next time

Survival

It's the monetisation
Of survival
And of health
Where those allowed to live
Are those
With the wealth
If you're too poor to pay
I'm afraid
You'll have to die
The excuse
"We can't afford it"
The reason why
So isn't it time
To have diseases defeated
To say whoever
And wherever you are
You'll be treated

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/11788507/NHS-accused-of-shambles-as-dying-cancer-sufferers-denied-drugs.html

Courses

We should all set up camp
On the golf course.
At least the ones who see
The ramping up
Of rental fees.
While the old-timers
Swing to their hearts content.
Oh! To own a tent
And our bit of green.
If all the golf courses
Were paved over
With more than just good intentions.
Then a saved deposit
Might be worth more
Than just an iron
In the overheated
Housing market furnace.

http://blog.shelter.org.uk/2013/11/a-fair-way-do-we-prioritise-golf-or-homes/

Grey

We all have our dark places
The black-as-night holes
We descend into
Feet and minds trapped
In pitch and tar
Ears clogged with treacle
To avoid a semblance of truth

Nothing is really
Black or white
And to vacillate between the two
Is to self-defeat ourselves
Into beaten disappointment
There is only grey
In shades of elephants and concrete
Bleak and beautiful in one

Simply

It's one thing
To kill
The animal
For its meat

It's one thing
To kill
The best
That's a danger

You can stand
With your conscience
On flies
Slugs and bugs

But to hunt
And murder
For sport
Is simply sick

Will

So if the state decrees it,
Our will can be our will no more.
The freedom to arrange our assets,
Subject to proof and accounted for.

Histories and details to be provided,
For why relatives have been left out.
And who's to say the reason isn't valid,
That you've got something to be unhappy about.

They go on about the importance of faith,
And the values personal to you.
But if there's anyone you've disinherited,
They'll allow them to line up in a queue.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-beds-bucks-herts-33684937

Pamper

A day for eating
Beans on toast
Or a hot from the oven
Sunday roast
Cosy by the fire
In an ingle nook
Huddled up on the sofa
With a summery book
Comfort and pampering
In whatever way
To keep the brooding
Rainclouds at bay

Trust

As a social species
Is it absurd
That we would respond
To the personal touch?

It does not take
Much of a mental leap
To perceive, and yet
How many of us
Receive this in the
Day to day dealings
With forward facing staff?

Few I would think
And so it is I read
With a sinking feeling
Of a new government technique
To manipulate

By mimicking this ideal
In a spate of initiatives
But without
The sincerity of truth
It shows how
Ruthless we've bcome

That we would treat
The vulnerable
In this way
Without the lesson learned
That if we truly respect
Then we can expect
Trust and effort returned

http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/8e6a38ae-306d-11e5-8873-775ba7c2ea3d.html#axzz3ghFNjxip

GenRent

We only have a desire
To feel safe
Extricating ourselves
From the chafing relationship
Of tenant and landlord
The deprecating effect
Of paying rent
For nothing in return
But a months notice
To clear out
An incentive to feel a part
Not apart
From the community
To place roots
The immunity from depression
And desolation
Of society
And a space
To call home
Which we all deserve
Rather than to spend
Our working lives
Serving up half our wages
To the landowners
Going nowhere
On the treadmill
With each passing stage
Laying a fear to take
Wives and children
The price we pay
Is too dear
For those in the population
Suffering the everyday ordeal
Of Generation Rent

http://www.theguardian.com/money/2015/jul/22/pwc-report-generation-rent-to-grow-over-next-decade

Language

It smacks a little of racism to me
Reminiscent of Nigel Farage
"Not enough English" is his plea
But he's living in a language mirage

Forgetting that there was a Jewish quarter
And always a China town
Indians and Greeks found their own corner
And each has been held in renown

London has been a city to welcome all
But his words are a bit of a farce
"Can't buy mango's at a market stall"
He just talking out of his arse

http://www.theguardian.com/film/2015/jul/20/terence-stamp-english-is-a-foreign-language-in-london

Beats

The beats shudder
Through the walls
Piercing the hall
With a louder sound
Than the sterero
A constant
Do-dum-do
That pounds inside
Your head
Distracts and disturbs
Keeping you awake
In your bed
As the reverb rattles
"For God's sake"
You want to shout
But you doubt
They would hear you

Sponge

I imagine he was only asking
In order to compare notes
As someone living in privilige
Not reliant on winning votes

Or for that matter any type
Of public scrutiny
A position he keeps through marriage
That provides a guarantee

But I think he's really being canny
Than the media make out
A joke at the expense of public mood
Will always get talked about

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/prince-philip-asks-women-at-east-london-community-centre-who-they-sponge-off-10393967.html

BBC

We've all grown up
With the BBC
The broom cupboard
And Edd the Duck
Were often on my TV

Blue Peter too
I would regularly watch
Dr Who too
Whose quality now
Has gone up another notch

And their commentators
Are all household names
In their unsurpassed
Coverage of sport
And of course the Olympic Games

The radio stations
Without adverts to interfere
Playing a range
Of music that
You would not otherwise get to hear

So why would you destroy this?
Take it all away?
Unless you were helping
Your rich benefactor
To keep competition at bay

So if we want to keep it
It is clear to me
We must stand tall
And shout out loud
That we Back the BBC

Flutter

Fluttering heartbeat
Ball of shivering feathers
Injury grounded

Darting eyes panic
Vulnerability exposed
Worst fear realised

And me as helpless
Walking on by with regrets
No happy ending

Billowing

They're lined up outside
Billowing smoke
Like dragons
Cutting from school

Scratches of flame
Light up with their eyes
As they toke
Pull; Drag; Suck

Before cartwheeling
With practiced flick
Their dog-end to the floor
Scattering
Their polluting seeds

Which grow into filth
And decay
Becoming a fascination
For tiny hands