Archive | January, 2012

Big Ben

31 Jan

Big Ben is leaning say the engineers,
they say it has been for years,
you may not notice from a distance, but get closer,
You can see cracks in the wall,
You can see the lean if only look critically,
If you get closer.

Big Ben is leaning they say,
how do we make it straight I pray,
Experts, MP’s scurry,
Holding meetings in a hurry.

Big Ben is leaning, what are we to do,
Cracks are appearing too,
Foundations are rotting away,
How do we make Big Ben straight again,
Straight again today?

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Would you speak? A poetic commemoration of holocaust memorial day

27 Jan

Would you speak?

Would you speak if they came for me?
I may differ in colour to you,
In costume,
I may not dress like you,
Sound like you,
But would you speak for me?
Would you have the courage of a lion,
Courage of your conviction?
Who would speak for you when they come for you,
For one day they will come for you.
I may believe in a different god,
But our belief in justice bind us, you and me.
So if they came,
pistols and rifles loaded to take me away,
Would you speak out,
speak out for me today?

All in this together- poem

13 Jan

All in this together

All in this together,
Hmm, I challenge you to live our life,
Where jobs are a rarer commodity than gold,
Can’t afford the heating so we’ll have to go cold.
Have you eaten today,
For there’s no food in the cupboard kids,
No not today.
Yes this is our life,
Skipping a butty so you can get a bus,
Not a ministerial car, a rickety bus,
Where despondency and despair lie heavy in the air,
You can smell it,
So while you’re wined and dined
Chauffeured on seats of leather,
Remember those on the bread line,
remember we’re all in this together!

Love on the wasteland

2 Jan

Love on the wasteland

We made our love on the wasteland,
Gravel, amidst the weeds,
No Garden of Eden, no promised land,
Yet who needs Eden when I’m holding your hand?
No bed of roses deeply red, but our passion will blossom in any old bed.
No romantic candles, yet streetlights flicker,
Knackered bulbs, yet still they smoulder,
As I touch your shoulder, as I kiss your lips,
A light fills me, brighter than any flame.
No Paris for sure,
Windows boarded up, broken,
Yet to you my heart is always open.
May have no job, may not have a dime,
We share pleasure so priceless when your body meets mine.
Ecstasy gets me so high when I take your hand,
No Eden in sight but amongst the streets that night,
Grasping at hope, we made love on the wasteland!