Monday, 30 December 2013

money flow

Switching on the money tap
let the money flow
straight into the rich man’s pot
with no where to go

but even the rich can't stop
the careless over fill
as it overflows to sycophants
as payment for the thrill

to the smart fashion houses
jewellers and boutiques
the health farms and gurus
masseurs with technique

trickle down to the high street
and food shops for a spell
then out and back to the farm
where money never dwells

off the the accountants
with the ever counting finger
then nurses cleaners and porters
where never known to linger

back out on the high street
expanding ever more
with loan shops, betting shops
and bingo for the poor

a quick visit to a tea shop
and the burger bar
pubs of wide screen TV
and karaoke bizarre

a long stay in the gutter
where it tends to dwell
with needles pills and potions
feeding private hell

cleaned up by the dealers
looking spick and clean
then back out to the public
via the cash machine

into the car show room
as a deposit on a loan
then used for home mortgage
that the bankers own

from bankers to backhanders
the trickle of little harm
big business in brown envelopes
to grease a sweaty palm

the purchase of a policeman
in case there's a need
for payment to politicians
with motive of pure greed

scandalise political expenses
corrupting what we've got
all the money is needed to
refill the rich man's pot

Sunday, 29 December 2013

farmers year

Thick of head and over hung
The farmer greets the New Year
Contemplating what lies ahead
Through the optimistic fug of beer
.
January will be crisp and dry
The insect will die of cold
And I will get a good price
For store lambs I’ve sold
.
February on Valentines Day
The wife will be true to form
She’ll forgo the silly cards
For fingerless gloves so warm
.
March will be lamming time
Daylight will make them begin
They’ll not thinking of lamming at night
And give birth to healthy twins
.
April showers happen at night
And fall only where needed
It will not fall on barren soil
But only where I just seeded
.
May all fruit blossom will be out
Bees busy pollinating
They will do the fruit trees first
Although rape seed is waiting
.
June of the longest days
Tractors serviced due to mileage
Contract work floods in
After my two cuts of silage
.
July the grass tall and straight
All rain clouds stay away
All the grass is cut and baled
In succulent four day hay
.
August wheat is gathered in
The heating salesman cry
Combine harvester runs all day
And the wheat is storage dry
.
September main crop potatoes
Harvested more than I need
The potato buyers raise the bidding
To use my crop for seed
.
October sheep scab stays away
All sheep eager for the dip
The fruit trees picked and crated up
Delivered in one trip
.
November all cattle snug inside
And feast well on winter store
The air is clean as is the hay
With no bacterial spore
.
December with nights drawn in
And festivities in the air
Christmas trees fetch a good price
All green with no patches bare
.
From the window looking out
The farm track a muddy stream
Sheep call for feed in torrential rain

To shatter his hopeful dream

Friday, 27 December 2013

let my people snow

The arrogant TV weather man
trying to impress
installed mega computers
so he wouldn't have to guess
with his infinite knowledge
his confidence did grow
when the king of CuNim
said let my people snow

Snow said the weather man
feeling not contrite
I've just forecast a sunny spell
without a cloud in sight
let my people snow said CuNim
or trouble will foretell
will I forecast snow to day
will I bloody hell

Then I will have ten plagues for you
and as the plagues will go
I will ask you once again
let my people snow
Bah humbug said the weather man
his arrogance on speed
its just a drop of morning dew
is what my people need

from the weather satellite
with instruments galore
it photographed rivers of red
it had not seen before
frogs, toads and locusts
boils and nipping flies
pestilence and cattle sick
before the viewers eyes

then CuNim in a cursing rage
cursed rain to passover
with floods and hurricane winds
from Muckle Flugga to Dover
the weather man in despair
demanded CuNim to leave
for he was due a few days off
it being Christmas eve

he had planned a warm sunny break
and flying from Heathrow
the last thing that he wanted
was for it to bloody snow
he booked well ahead for Christmas
so his booking was not in doubt
and thought he could still get away
if Gatwick got flooded out

flights were delayed or cancelled
chaos hit Heathrow
again demanded CuNim
let my People snow
I give up said the weather man
wanting a departure norms
get yourself north to Aviemore
snow fill the Cairngorms

that is why we have travel chaos
every wintertime
because or arrogant weathermen
on the news at breakfast time
if you let it snow in the highlands
that's what skiers need
you can do away with the weathermen
and old coasties daft seaweed







Monday, 23 December 2013

school for the poor

Under achieving city school
Improve writing had been the rule
To give a spurt to literacy need
A post box to Santa for him to read
.
Letter of wishes children should write
For delivery on Christmas night
When the school broke up for the winter break
Teachers read and their hearts did ache
.
Few letters either girls or boys
Requesting an increase of the latest toys
In shambling words no more than a scrawl
Pleas from the heart they read them all
.
Stop our visit to auntie’s home
And don’t leave us with uncle alone
Round the bedroom we have to linger
Exposed to his probing wondering fingers
.
Please help mummy I’m not quite sure
If for her drinking there is a cure
When sober she is always tired grumpy
When she’s drunk she’s angry and thumpy
.
Please find a cure for ME
When we get home I have to make tea
Mummy is tired still lying in bed
Crying and wishing that she was dead
.
Please help dad his kidney is failing
Mum’s overworked and constantly wailing
A transplant is needed but there isn’t one free
Why can’t they take one from mummy or me
.
Please find a job for my mum or dad
They’ve spent all the money they once had
They don’t go out and nobody calls
Crying and arguments heard through the walls
.
The contacted community to their surprise
Filled tables of presents, cakes and mince pies
Filling the school with presents galore
Sharing their Christmas in the school of the poor






Friday, 20 December 2013

piety

At ninety years of piety
he was very good
prayed day and night
as they said he should
never did a naughty thing
even if he could

his brother was a rogue
by inclination
indulged in alcohol
and nights of fornication
had a mint invested
as a hedge against inflation

both said a final prayer
seeking absolution
for a life so sinful
an admiral solution
both souls went to heaven
without retribution

some may think this gross unfair
where is justice for a start
but heaven has satisfaction
for your bleeding heart
would you spend an eternity
with a boring pious fart


Saturday, 14 December 2013

cold

The fireplace is cold as ice
The chimney has no soot
No curtains on the window
Floor freezing to the foot
No presents on this Christmas day
The children stay in bed
Mother with her cider jar
Sleeping like she’s dead

Daddy new every week
They never hang around
To watch her humanity
In cheap liquor drown
Welfare state is aware
Though constrain by rules
Cobbled by politician
And followed by fools

Eyes once cried now are dry
The world is grey to see
Between the wanting of food
And passing cruelty
But they have to get up
And slowly up they get
From the soiled bedclothes
They constantly wet

They pray to God but don’t believe
Deliverance from all sin
But they don’t want new parents
Or an orphanage put in
Just one day all heroin
Alcohol and cocaine
Could be pumped into the gutter
Not into her vein

The children venture to her room
Look down on the filthy bed
Stroking her bloodstained hair
And cradling her head
Will she wake this Christmas?
Will she wake up well?
Will she break those habits?
Only time will tell





troublesome son

We have problems with our son she said
‘e’s always grumpy when ‘e gets outta bed
‘e bawls at the others has a right evil mind
It’s as if ‘e ‘aint been taught ‘ow to be kind

‘e miss treats the stock and sheep ‘e ‘ates
Belligerent to farm reps at the farm gate
Speaks kinda negative nothing good to see
From dawn to dusk ‘es a right misery

‘es totally forgot just ‘ow to be pleasant
Always out shooting lame ducks and pheasant
‘is hands is cold and a farmer ‘e’ll never be
Only fit now for the media or gynaecology




Wednesday, 11 December 2013

santa in the dock

Santa is at the Hague
and sadly in the dock
for his financial backers
it came a quite a shock
he seemed such a helpful man
the joviality implied
wished all a merry Christmas
his actions deigned

he failed again with world peace
in a planet full of war
he failed again with bankers
with millions and want more
he failed again with child health
in refugee camps abroad
children die of curable ills
a cure we can afford

he stuffed those Christmas stockings
with toys rich factories made
plastic lifelike machine guns
bullets and hand grenades
gave children uniforms to wear
crisp and full of starch
with Disney tunes and melodies

to teach them how to march

Monday, 9 December 2013

Christmas on the croft

The mice are quite poorly
the rats they are ill
there's a sheep dog at the door
and a cat on the sill
the floor boards are groaning
the stairs start to squeak
the right footed wellie
has just sprung a leak
as another left wellie
is stored in the loft
it's Christmas eve
down on the croft

the presents he's wrapping
and he's doing fine
with the yellow and red
of last years baler twine
he writes in the name
so easy to read
between the bold letters
of certified seed
for her is a present
he thinks it will suit
a new pair of fur lined
pink rigger boots

the children wrote lists
but he'll get them a treat
a new lambing bottle
with red Pritchard teat
as the main present
for his doting wife
a new wooden handled
Opinel knife
he looked through the list
at what name appears
as the grateful recipient
of new dagging shears

he's off to drink sherry
and a carrot to munch
then strangle an old bird
for Christmas day lunch
creeping down to the cellar
of dark webs and spider
he hunts for a barrel
of four year old cider
with a glow in his belly
and haze in the head
he'll fill in the farm survey
of stock that are dead

then off to bed knackered
he'll sleep until three
when the children will scream
He's bin” with glee
there'll be orange in stockings
and chocolate treats
wrapped in coloured paper
and old vat receipts
content with new wellies
the colour so nice
he's off to the field drinkers
to break off the ice
he sings an old rugby song
as happy as can be
because it's Christmas day
on the croft by the sea




Friday, 29 November 2013

yo ho ho

Yo ho ho said Santa
to the poor boy on his knee
what shall we bring to you
whisper it to me
I want my mum to be healthy
go to work and be able
to stay fit for a working day
to put food on the table
I want to have some heating
affordable for us all
with out a rip off meter
that eats money on the wall
decent rented housing
would certainly lift the gloom
as long as we aren't penalised
for an extra room
I would like some open spaces
where I can safely play
and my dad to earn every year
what a banker earns a day


Wednesday, 27 November 2013

approved bankers presents

There is trouble in the North Pole
recession is on the move
so Santa is giving presents
that only bankers would approve


if you have rich parents
that have money to invest
you will get all you want
on your sixteen page request


if you have poor parents
with no prospects of getting better
you will pay for your presents
and be charged for your letter


if you are the middling sort
hard working in endurance
you will get bugger all

but be sold no gift insurance

Monday, 25 November 2013

busy people



they walked passed his window

he watched them come and go

the busy busy people

hurrying to and fro

too busy to watch the stars above

or watch the flowers grow

those busy busy people

nobody wants to know


those busy busy people

trying to live and sell

walking past the ground floor flat

without a front door bell

nobody knocked on the door

to check if all is well

now there are accusation

reporters want to tell

too busy people didn't look

till the corpse began to smell

Thursday, 21 November 2013

Harlequin

In the square a Harlequin
made up gaudily
dancing for the public
moving easily
telling jokes and silly rhyme
singing silly songs
about bad politicians
and dreams that went wrong

he sang of mass corruption
of bankers and their greed
he sang of bulging orphanages
inmates in desperate need
he sang his most heartfelt song
of how life could be
so they arrested him and tried him
and hung him from a tree

Thursday, 14 November 2013

sparky signal

Sparky arrived and bowed his head
In his hand a signal read
The captain told him to read aloud
Sparky started with head bowed
Your wife has died the signal said
How should they now treat the dead?
Should she be interned in the ground?
With a noble headstone found
Or was his wish to be cremation
With ashes scattered to the nation
Was it his want in memory?
To have his wife buried at sea

The captain stood with knowing glances
Do them all……….., take no chances








Thursday, 7 November 2013

idiot hunter

You should have a hobby in your spare time
Get out more and stop writing rhyme
You should be more like me you know
Always on the hunt always on the go

What is that you do that keeps you fit”
I hunt for idiots and love every bit
Idiot hunting that I’ve not heard
To me that hobby seems pretty absurd”

The collectors international association
That collects idiots from every nation
They catalogue and write about so free
Their intrinsic logical stupidity

What is an idiot how can you tell?”
They talk in cliques not very well
They always brag about driving fast
Good times that were had in the past
Sporting facts they can quickly relate
Dismantle cars on their first date
Buying fast food to save washing up
Drinking brandy from a tea cup
Spending most nights in a garden shed
Trying to fix a mower passed as dead
Has intricate knowledge of parking lots
For classic cars they have the hots
Freely give unasked for poor advice
Most descriptive word used is nice

Why is my friend looking at me?
All’s well that ends well apparently
At the end of the day all being equal
Discussing Ford Cortina’s and the sequel
Two hours from Edinburgh to Newcastle
Could be faster but would be a hassle
Parking in Newcastle I could go on for hours
Lacking multi-storey car parking towers
My friend is leaving his visit overdue
I advise don’t do anything I wouldn't do
My friend’s ticking boxes and smiling with glee
I think the idiot hunter’s just bagged me


Children's prayers

Around the world before they sleep
Little children in prayer they creep
A conversion between god and child
In supplication gentle and mild

Please God save mum daddy and me
From islands concerns for rising sea
In African drought and poverty
Children pray for food constantly

From rich lands you would expect joy
Habitually ask for the latest toy
Old building for orphanages used
They pray for ending of the abuse

Tuesday, 5 November 2013

what do you see


What do you see, when eyes are closed
Trying to sleep at night
Uncertainty and cowardice
Those demons that you fight
Or the fire of the explosion
That took the right eyes sight
Trusting faces of dying men
convinced that you are right
What do you see?


Destructive jokes and snigger
done behind a cruel hand
Mission statement by the planners
you could not understand
The ambush on the open road
forced you to make a stand
Dead that stay with the living thought
were once yours to command
What do you see?



The importance of the hem length
the colour of the year
Hearty comfort and perception
found in strong drugs and beer
Crowded streets of dread and tension
and lonely roads of fear
Rages and the long silence spells
shut out those once were near
What do we see?

a present for Sammy

Laying on the ground
outside Sammy mouse's door
is a large blue shiny orb
that’s not been seen before
It wasn't there yesterday
or the day before

slug says its a present
so fine it has no flaw
must have come from far away
not seen on this shore
a gift for something Sammy did
many years before

Snail said it was carried
must have been by coach
a coach so rich and glistening
the poor folk can't approach
so it must travelled by night
so the poor could not encroach

hedge hog said it had a guard
to clear peasants from the road
with Hussars and lancers
said the helpful toad
it must have travelled over sea
by ship and carefully stowed

it must have had an armada
of escorting craft
said the helpful water vole
not meaning to sound daft
a present from an emperor
from rich lands over sea
for an act that Sammy did
I wonder what it could be

Then Sammy opened his door
his friends wanted to know
what he did for an Emperor
so many years ago
then down flew a black bird
took her egg and flew away
it was not present for Sammy
just an egg that went astray

Thursday, 24 October 2013

halloween

Late at night in cold bed alone
Wondering mind to drift is prone
To dwell upon thoughts that scare
Tis haunting season so beware

Halloween thoughts invade the mind
Wondering’s of a fearful kind
The spirits of life forms you once knew
Reek revenge on the mind of you

The thundering herd of beef cattle
Vibrate the bed and windows rattle
Come to haunt you for their murder
You purveyor of the beef burger

The chicken flock flies round your head
For barbecue legs they are dead
The chicken caterpillar you see
With thousand legs for you and me

The sheep the deer and salmon come
You evil man what have you done
You wake with start and you hear
Full English breakfast for you dear




Friday, 11 October 2013

wasted



Young men march in uniforms

that they wear with pride

sent off to the trenches

to take all in their stride

try to cross no-mans-land

many corpses wide

calling for their mother

with dying sobs they cried

fighting for a freedom

the survivors are deigned


graves stones by the million

in religious segregation

simple bland inscriptions

that lack poetic imagination

now heroes that have fallen

to safeguard a nation

politicians heads held high

in false admiration

speak weasel words of comfort

tor a wasted generation

Saturday, 31 August 2013

batman

Batman on the window ledge
three storeys from the floor
wants the courts to sign a pledge
to see his kids once more

the hand that rocks the cradle
doesn't want to know
such neat poison she will ladle
in words sweet and low

the children under direction
utter bitter lies
this family of introspection
absent parents they despise

so Batman is on a protest
a tall three storeys high
a placard displayed on his chest
justice, truth, or die


Tuesday, 20 August 2013

time to talk

The farmer raised his hand
In cheerful recognition
The engineer stopped is car
He had a proposition
The engineer stepped out the car
To the combined harvester Walked
It had seemed an eon
Since these two pals had talked

The combine harvester blocked the road
While the two old friends chatted
Such a pleasant sunny day
Good crack is all that matter
While they struck a bargain
For maintenance of machinery
On such a pleasant day
with good crack in pleasant scenery

From a flask they toasted well
Of the future, and of trade
Its strange they said to see no cars
On this sunny day god made
Behind the combined harvester
Stretching far and trying patients
Behold a massive traffic jam
Straining country/town relations

Monday, 19 August 2013

gravity where is it

Gravity where is your pull?
Where does your force hide?
Is it found in cotton and wool?
In clothes I wear with pride
.
Why do the used clothes you see
Lay crumpled on the floor
They must be held by gravity
So cant hang up as before
.
Socks once used and damp inside
The odour will upward rise
One sock will escape and hide
The washing basket spies
.
Clothes reaching the washing machine
With detergent and water spin
Tumbled, flattened, treated mean
Destroys the gravity within
.
Clean clothes stay hung up on the rack
Soiled clothes coat the floor
So what puts the gravity back?
Why do children’s clothes hold more?


Monday, 10 June 2013

the singer

The aging singer her beauty fading
Down marble staircase tight dress parading
Her come back tour all seats sold
The audience welcomes her spirit bold

The recital of songs old and new
The singing range she use to do
But there is wobble and some notes flat
Did the audience notice that


She takes her final bow low
Head bent and rising slow
The audiences clap and cheer
But on her cheek a failures tear


Friday, 31 May 2013

dream land

Climb up on the chair beside me
And a tale to you I’ll tell
Of a happy land where friends call
With nothing they must sell
Where cars are very few
And there is no traffic jam
Most of the people happily travel
On buses train and tram
.
Children spend most days at school
And teachers love to teach
You find it’s just the clergy
Not politicians that preach
The police walk the beat alone
Keeping an eye on crime
Willing to show you the way
And telling you the time
.
The mail has your name on it
When coming through the door
If you have a debt to pay
The banks don’t offer more
Doors are always open
There is nothing there to hide
You can go to the city streets
And need not park and ride
.
Children have a mum at home
Grandparents live quite near
Aliens came from outer space
Not good people that you fear
Manufactures make spare parts
Machines are made to last
In this foreign country
The old folks call the past

Wednesday, 22 May 2013

Sitting


She's sitting in her favourite chair
In the cold window bay
She does not move or speak a word
she has nothing to say
The world that passes by her now
So fast and in a blur
Uncomprehending images
With syllables that slur


Hot food brought to her on a tray
With lid to keep heat in
Too weak to lift or to inspect
The contents held within
Untouched the tray is then removed
No one checks it to see
If she has eaten anything
of the culinary debris

Her hair once thick now fine as silk
Has seen no comb for days
There's no need to dress smartly
No compliment or praise
Her hygiene once so important
now taken for a bath
Only when she begins to smell
Attended by staff wrath

Her husband of some sixty years
she's not allowed to see
Is in an all male nursing home
Whose house sale pays the fee
She dreams at night of images
screams like one pursued
restrained to meet the morning
sedated and subdued


Monday, 20 May 2013

beggars


These beggars I see in the door
Are not the same as those before
In every town and every city
Modern down and out seek pity

No longer the casualties of war
Destroyed by carnage and gore
We sent them off to fight for us
When broken shells they disgust

In my youth the down and outs
That Orwell wrote so much about
Had their mind and body destroyed
Could not be gainfully employed

What war casualties are these?
With begging bowl and dog of fleas
On heroin and alcohol they suckle
Under our modern life they buckle

These young, our damaged seed
The casualties of our greed
They lost all not for liberty
But the evils of our society


Thursday, 16 May 2013

blue


You think you are really cool
with Brylcreem in your hair
you pinched your dads old spice
and splashed it everywhere
you said you loved the blues
you thought the girls would care

you date the girl from form 4b
that said she fancied you
take her to the picture house
the darkness to pursue
exploring her curvaceous body
although told not to do

you slip your hand inside the bra
to find her far from willing
then you find the shapely curves
are just tissue filling
but she wants to watch the film
that she finds more thrilling

you walk her to her front door
your heart is beating faster
she smiles and says the evening
was less than a disaster
trying to kiss her good night
and think tongues you'll have to master

you try to be a gentleman
its the proper thing to do
next day she tells all her friends
what she thinks of you
you take respite in music
so you look for something blue

Wednesday, 15 May 2013

robin hoodie


Robin the hoodie streetwise and cool
With his image in decay
Though that theft was pretty cruel
As crime thought not to pay
He would give up his outlaw ways
Investing his new salvation
Borrowing from those that can pay
To indulge in speculation.

To the poor that could not pay
He lent more than they need
To buy houses with no survey
And stimulate their greed
Low payments made was not enough
To keep the money flowing
Other investors noses to the trough
Must keep the bubble growing

Bundles of his worthless bonds
Disguised to hide his crime
With other banks would correspond
Calling them Subprime
His merry band soon diversified
Spreading risk and traces
The insurance market they would try
Firm handshakes and embraces

Selling up and then buying gold
Before chicks come to roost
Living on the fat of junk they sold
From suckers they seduced
Now they sit watching money men
Far too stupid to mention
Repeating mistakes time and again
Reaping excessive pension

Laid Marion could never earn
Such bonuses on her back
Once city men began to learn
Control was less than slack
Alan a Dale picked up his lute
With a warning in his song
For the silly men in pinstripe suit
Believing Lemmings never wrong