Politics

Politics is a place where idealism, ambition collide,
and have to find a place to reside.

Politics is a place where change can be a snails pace, or a revolution,
A new revelation,
or the same old wrapped in the cloak of the new.
Politics can be a place where the sun can rise on a new dawn,
or the darkness of hopes forlorn.

Politics can bring out the best and very worse of humanity,
High minded, base,
sleazy self serving and the rest,
Or in the peoples interest,
but at the core, politics is all too human.

Numbers

When numbers are just numbers,
you can do whatever you like,
take away,
cut taxes for your friends while others you hike,

When figures are just figures,
on white paper and black ink,
you can do what you like,
Cross out, blot out, you don’t even have to think.

But when those numbers become real,
When those salami slices,
dices and cuts become real,
People will feel.

When leisure centres and libraries are shut, the numbers are real,
When the safety net beneath you is cut, the numbers are real.
When your very bedroom is taxed, the numbers are real.
When EMA is axed and opportunities are taken, the numbers are real.

A world (to live in)

A world

I want to live in a world that shares,
a world that cares,
A world where compassion isn’t a sign of weakness but a strength.

A world where a persons worth lies not in their wealth,
riches,
nor possession,
but a world of understanding, cooperation

A world where it doesn’t matter how much you have,
who you love,
or the colour of your skin,
Our tide raises all boats.

That’s the world I want to live in,
A world that share,
A world that cares.

Rose

Red,
blood red,
A passionate beauty, a crimson ruby,
Yet beware the thorn,
Prick us, do you not bleed?

A symbol of passion,
a symbol of love,
Struggle and sacrifice,
after division,
a symbol of unity,
See it’s many petals coming together in common endeavour.

Natures fairest portraiture,
I pick it with glee,
Passion, unity, a ruby,
The rose the flower for me.

Demagogue

Beware ye of the demagogue
rabble rouser.
He may shout
play on fear,
tell you want you want to hear.
Look closer,
nothing there but hot air.

Beware ye of the demagogue,
From crisis they spring,
A sirens song they sing,
Quick to find a scapegoat,
Demonise,
They blind you with their lies.

Beware ye of the demagogue
rabble rouser.
He may be everywhere,
He may shout
play on fear,
tell you want you want to hear.
Look closer,
nothing there but hot air.

Spirit of 45 poem

Spirit of 45

Out of the ashes,
They climbed,
Shattered houses, shattered lives,
But a spirit survives.

A spirit to create,
To rebuild the battered state,
Where you are truly your brothers keeper,
A spirit of love for your fellow man not hate.

They showed it’s braver to create,
Much braver to care than to hate,
This was a spirit not afraid to be brave.
A spirit like this is what we crave,
Do you have the spirit to be brave?

Ode to the young

Ode to the young

I thought that children were the future,
I guess that was a song from the rosy past,
Troublemakers, lager louts, lazy we are often cast,
Can’t get a job because we ‘haven’t got experience’
Yet is working for free stacking shelves really experience?
Paid work denied,
Uni education that doesn’t break the bank denied,
A future denied,
Hope itself seems a gift denied.
For those without the eyes to see,
How hard life is for you and me,
Live a day a week, a year in our shoes,
The jilted generation, cast aside are we.