Gautama weeps as nationalism prevails over sacred teachings

Gautama weeps as nationalism prevails over sacred teachings

Buddhists weaponize karma

Drive their daggers through

The flesh of Muslim children

Then meditate anew

Cheeky chappy

Cheeky chappy

Tommy Robinson prejudice and fear

Generated angst on the internet

Converted to cash by those who revere

He went to prison now he’s in the clear

The show’s on the road the stage has been set  

Tommy Robinson prejudice and fear

Football hooligans chant the name and cheer

The love they feel for their favourite pet

Converted to cash by those who revere

Angry mobs are very easy to steer

Hatred for Islam is the safest bet

Tommy Robinson Prejudice and fear

Grooming gangs aren’t the only issue here

Contempt for others deemed to be a threat

Converted to cash by those who revere

Now UKIP have given him a career

Stephen Yaxley- Lennon’s not started yet

Tommy Robinson prejudice and fear

Converted to power by those who revere

Dead man walking

Dead man walking (Polperro, Cornwall 1995)

A man in a hurry, pushed a pushchair,

Up a steep hill, to a caravan site;

And it felt like he was getting nowhere;

Huffing and puffing and sweating in spite

Of the Cornish sea breeze blowing that night:

Slow down you’ll give yourself a heart attack,

Said his worried wife, as he hurried back.

He turned a corner, and there on the path,

Lay a middle-aged man, with lifeless eyes,

As motionless, as in a photograph,

Gaping at nothing, in frozen surprise;

Oblivious to the despairing cries,

Of his partner, who mere seconds before,

Was with him, and now, was with him no more.

More people gathered, someone made a call;

Two paramedics, appeared on the scene;

Applied, CPR, which helped not at all,

Nor did the defibrillation machine;

Truth be told; it was obvious he’d been

Gone too long; still, it was right they should make

An effort, at least, for his partner’s sake.

A policeman discreetly brushed his palm,

From the wide-open eyes, down to the chin;

Giving the corpse an appearance of calm;

They covered, carried, and lay it within

An ambulance; guided the next of kin

To a squad car, with a flashing blue light,

And bade the man in a hurry; goodnight.

And thirty years on, this saddest of tales;

Written by a man inclined to forget;

Is, retrospectively, missing details;

Such as the still-burning, half cigarette,

Dropped, evidently, by someone who met

Their maker, whilst walking up a steep hill,

Having just eaten, their very last meal.

The Charming man

The charming man

“Please would you mind stepping on to this chair?”

Said the charming man with the charming hair,

In a charming voice, calm, soft and polite,                                          

With a charming smile; charming and bright.

The commoner stepped up onto the chair,

Stood underneath a noose hanging there,
The charming man said, “Put your head inside”,

And the commoner, charmed, gladly complied.

The charming man smiled, charmingly sighed,

Kicked at the chair and the commoner died.

“Please would you mind coming over here?”

Said the charming man; charming and clear,

With a charming manner; charming and fair,

With a charming face and a charming stare.

The commoner came to the edge of the tower,

Stood to attention, gave a quick bow

And the charming man said, “Listen carefully,

Get ready to jump on the count of three”.

The charming man counted and charmed as could be,

The commoner jumped to his death, eagerly.

“Please would you mind picking up this gun?”

Said the charming man, the charming one,

In the charming suit, charming bowtie

And charming top hat; what a charming guy!

The commoner picked up the weapon and said,

“Would you like me to point this gun at my head?”

And the charming man said, “My, how did you guess?

How clever you are, of course I do yes.

Now put your finger on the trigger and press”.

So he did, (and the servants cleaned up the mess).

“Please would you mind following me?”

Said the charming man ever so charmingly.

With the charming demeanour and charming bent

Of a perfectly charming upper class gent.

The commoners heard him and loved his style,

So they happily followed and after a while,

They came to a field of mud, barbed wire,

Dead soldiers, trenches, gas and gunfire.

The charming man left them in that quagmire,

To fight for his cause, and fulfil his desire.

Laika

Laika

Canine crew

Sputnik 2

November ‘57

Moscow stray

Fired away

Died and went to Heaven

Two

Five

Seven

Zero times

Her coffin circled Earth

The bastards

Evidently felt

A dog’s life

Has no worth

Murdoch conned the working class

Murdoch conned the working class

Murdoch conned the working class,

Did it very craftily,

Normalising tits and arse,

Changing viewpoints gradually.

Told them that their unions

Were to blame for all their woes.

Altered their opinions

Made the bosses their heroes.

Murdoch conned the working class

From his empire overseas.

Thatcher with a gifted pass

Sold off all their industries.

Largess from the big fat cats

Made things run without a hitch,

Buying shares and council flats

They believed that they were rich.

Murdoch conned the working class,                           

Steel works, ship yards, mines closed down.

Britain turned into a farce,

Unemployed in every town.

Union leaders stripped of power,

Discontent, north-south divide,

(London was a big cash cow

Long before the old witch died).

Murdoch conned the working class

And he does it still today.

Liars now are superstars,

Living some place far away.

Ruthless takers with no shame

Rob the futures of us all,

While we finger point and blame;

Murdoch’s friends divide and rule.

The angry gammons

The angry gammons

The angry gammons gandered

The gabbling gammon man

He gabbled and they gargled  

With gladness and élan

With gratuitous grandiosity 

He gave the gathered clan

The grandest and the greatest

Most glamorous golden plan

How greedily they grabbed

Every garishly garnished groat

How eagerly they heard

Every ghastly grumbling note

How gullibly they believed

The ignorant grating goat

They gladly gave him governance

How gleefully they gloat

The angry gammons cheered

As he gusted “Now we can

Guard against the Gauchos

With a Wall gargantuan

Give guns to all good Christians

Grotesque Muslims we will ban

Garrotte the girly snowflakes

Get ghastly with Iran”

The gabbling gammon man

Gazed at the gaping crowd

 And faux graciously he gabbed

In a voice grotesque and loud

“All the world’s a golf course

 And the gutless will be cowed”

And the gushing gammons gasped

Glazed glorious great and proud