Who put the “sub” into “subversion” and “subculture”?
Was it the same people
Who built schools:
Those prisons
Where kids are tortured
And brainwashed
Into being “good” conforming citizens –
Factory fodder
Trained to sit in lines
Labouring at meaningless tasks,
Questioning nothing?

So still we are ruled
By Tory Grandees and Brussels Bureaucrats
Keeping us in our place:
Social Control
Over Job Centre slaves.

It’s the same the whole world over:
The rich wallowing in luxury
While the poor starve to death
Exposed to pitiless winds.

For once words fail me
About our Unfair World.
Children dying everywhere
While fatcats feed in a frenzy.
No wonder people talk of Revolution
And terrorist plots.
Our air is full of carbon
While trees are cut
Down
For seas of palm oil.

We need to reconsider
What we do
In all our ways.
Enough is enough.
It’s time to nurture nature
As denizens of Planet Earth.

Paul Butters

© PB 23\11\2018.

Oh tell me where has England's glory gone,
Lost golden days of beef and lukewarm beer?
Now it's polenta in a gastro-pub,
Chilean Chardonnay, Tequila Slammers.

Her Empire proudly pink on schoolroom maps;
India, Afric, source of plundered loot galore.
All gone, all gone, black faces back in charge
And black drug pushers stalk old London's streets.

Fat huntsmen dressed in pink, all banished now,
Their yelping foxhounds ripping prey apart,
Celebrating sick English country ways
Before returning to their mortgaged homes.

City yobbos yelling down their mobiles,
Fatcats slurping up their creamy profits;
All the public cares about is football
And the *** lives of the media's darlings.

So where has England's honour gone today?
Up the American military ****,
Our government showing its smug disdain
For what decent people care and think.

We've sold out to baseball caps and burgers,
And imported TV shows for the mentally *******,
A visitor attraction for obese rich yanks to drawl
"We're real glad we saved these Limey's ***** in two wars".

where’s it gonna end?
countdown from some to none
sinking into the mud from which we sprung
but come on sparky
sink a drink and compel the fatcats
to share the wealth
and when you do your job
complain all you like
moaning helps ease the pain
a medical fact