Holocaust Memorial Day 2013

Last year, I wrote a poem or the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust called ‘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?
I may believe in a different god, or no god, But our belief in justice binds us, you and me.
So if they came, pistols loaded to take me away, Would you speak out, speak out for me today?

This year I have written another called ‘Through the eyes of a child’. On this day we remember those millions of Jews, Roma, and many others who died in the Holocaust and we live in hope that nothing like this ever happens again.

Through the eyes of a child

Through the eyes of a child, you see not hatred,
ancient prejudice is unknown,
Blood libels aren’t the tales we read from,
the eyes of a child do not differentiate,
Discriminate between the colour of the skin,
the way they speak,
the god they believe in.
They do not throw books and people to burn,
Against their very neighbours burn,
They do not seek to commit atrocity,
Though the eyes of a child you see innocence,
Though the eyes of a child you see humanity.


High street high noon

Shutters down,
doors and windows boarded up,
where once there was life, a sterile emptiness.

Tumbleweed blows beyond the threshold,
the music that made you want to dance down the street now silenced.
More and the more the dominoes fall, the town empties.

No alien invasion,
no apocalypse caused this,
It’s the economy stupid!
It’s past high noon for the high street,
the sun’s gone in.


Teacher and the student

Teacher and the student


They say the teacher teaches the student,

but the teacher is always learning,

curiosity burning within him like a candle.


Is the master not also an apprentice,

for the sum of knowledge is more than even he can handle,

a thirst never satisfied.


they say the teacher teachers the student,

but the teacher keeps on learning,

his curiosity for the mysteries of life burning, burning.