#referendum
Brexit means exit,
Brexit means exit.
It doesn’t mean:
Ignoring the masses who had their say,
Action replaced by incompetence and delay,
Having thirty-nine billion pounds to pay,
Giving our fishing waters away,
Compromising the borders of our precious UK,
Calls to vote again, the Brussels Mafia way,
Hope of a nation reduced to a faltering ray,
Democracy treated as if its had its day.
You promised,
You promised,
To implement what the people decided,
Those promises now watered down,
Refuted and then derided.
But most of all,
But most of all,
Mrs May,
Our vote to Leave,
Was definitely,
Was definitely,
Not a vote to stay!
Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 2:40 AM UTC
Twenty third June twenty sixteen
The biggest vote we’d ever seen
Results are in and Brexit win
and many say it’s such a sin
Those who voted not to leave
This news they just could not believe
Sore losers showed their bitter anguish
soon from Europe we would vanish
Let’s vote again remainers say
'No vote again' says Theresa May
Our country voted in or out
and voted out without a doubt
The apple cart tipped on its head
Britain in Europe would soon be dead
Now Brexit was born the following morn.
This beautiful kingdom from Europe be torn
Remainers are mad while leavers are glad
Great Britain is out there is no doubt
So shut up remainers, accept what is done
We voted together and Brexit won
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 4:08 PM UTC
an ostentatious wipe
this referendum is treed
while rather bolting a humanity
so Barcelona is superfluous and has encased
but once in Granda they'll enjoin a last bit circle
and to embroil grout in their tires
as a run within this emanation
on the plain to graze again
save Girona still crankiest in bluff
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 4:06 PM UTC
A better choice in dulce vita
where the bucket list glorious of Italiano
still major in Tuscany with Firenze
where espresso and towering inferno of pleasure
which plenty now profane only marginalize Athens
while Constantine would have his chalice a true major in language
that Rome alight the world in gardens.
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 2:04 AM UTC
There was once a place called the UK
That voted to leave and not stay
The government lied
One great nation died
They'd thrown their whole future away
First we look at the campaign
Terrible both leave and remain
Great lies on both sides
The country divides
My goodness are we going insane?
So let us ask the population
Oh we all hate immigration
The economy's bad
We're feeling quite sad
So we'll rip a great whole in this nation
How can we make a decision
When there's clearly a deep incision
Why change all our ways
When after a couple of days
There's such a great whopping division?
We can all vote, young and old
A value we should all uphold
But it's not democratic
When the campaign's erratic
And lies are all that we're told
One thing that I find quite sinister
This new unelected Prime Minister
Equality's great
And I don't want to hate
But why is she the one to administer?
I must make it clear what I mean
Don't think what I'm saying's obscene
But you cry for democracy
Oh the hypocrisy!
Clearly you're not all that keen
And maybe we'll all be alright
It won't all change overnight
But I'm European
And if you're disagreein'
Then I swear I won't give up the fight
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 4:58 AM UTC
I was walking through the grey rainy streets, another melancholic day.
Proud English flags hung up in the windows of council houses.
What are we so proud of anyway?
A country run on ignorance and blaming the minority, the government wonders why we have a problem with authority?
So we will focus on the youth that are disengaged and abstaining from voting. Don't mention those who are hungry, unemployed and hurting.
Ssh, if we keep it quiet then maybe nobody will notice.
Close your eyes while the darkness approaches.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 4:38 PM UTC
On the twenty third of June, anniversary of my father’s death,
The United Kingdom voted to LEAVE the European Union.
It was a close-run thing:
Fifty two percent to forty eight,
Though over a million votes between.
A result that will go down in the annals of history.
Another vote the pollsters and bookmakers got wrong.
I voted Leave, confidently expecting to Lose!!!
My friends were split in two
As Remainers became ReMOANers!
For I’m now branded a nationalist, bigoted racist
Who has made a massive mistake.
But I insist: Britain has Rejoined the World
And Our Commonwealth.
We are reborn
So sure there will be teething troubles.
We’ll have to learn to walk and talk again.
Cast off your gloom, Remainers!
Rejoice the brand new day.
Britain can be great again
As the dawn chorus resonates around the globe.
Opportunity smiles down on us.
It won’t be easy,
But when ever was it so???
The Phoenix rises,
Unfurling its golden wings…
Paul Butters
© PB 27\6\2016.
Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 6:10 AM UTC
Tea and Trumpets
Anyone
No Mum, No Dad
Time to have some fun
We don’t like rules
Or to be told what to do
We need to be
Our shade of blue
Now we will build
An island fence
And run our own show
With no interference
Like Fatcat Trump
In the USA
We’re fat enough to run
Our world our way
O Happy Day O Happy Day :(
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 9:06 AM UTC
Are we to reject a greater unity
for the sake of a superficial
sovereignty.
For does not the richness of
every need its canvas.
And every flower deserve a special
place in the garden.
As every star sits in the nights sky
belonging to a constellation.
I never hear them complaining
only gently sparkling.
Are we to reverse down a dark alley
not knowing where we are going.
Do we wish to offer a clenched fist
or are we to open our hand and heart.
Have we become so inwardly looking
that we switch of our lights close our
eyes as a room full of blind nations
continue to fight.
Are we to be influenced by papers
that serendipitously cloud the difference
between EU immigrants and Syrian refugee's.
As Rupert Murdoch and corperate power
divides and conquers.
Trillions gather of shore sit on the world
like a giant cancer and all we do is fight
with each other.
As they in circle us with their power we become
the entertainment at their coliseum.
Or do we pour love within the gaps becoming all
so much closer bringing back all our power.
Are we to live in a shrinking world where
other people's problems do not matter.
Is it time to close our eyes or time to look
in the mirror.
Out out out keep the bad guys out
as though our hands were clean
that we had never done anything wrong.
Are we we to cling to a penny pinching surface
or delve into the depths of our character looking for
a deeper treasure that truly matters.
Will not the true values of our heart not proper
when connected more deeply on the inside
and out.
By clinging to a superficial sovereignty we may
find ourselves also clinging to a wobbly mast.
As our island drifts of into a rough sea we maybe
to involved with surviving that we forget
who we truly are.
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 10:46 AM UTC
Referendum Rap
Left right Left right Wrong Right Wrong Right
Far right Outta sight Dark Light Dark Light
Left right Left right
Do I leave, Do I stay Do I play or run away
Which way today
Far right Outta sight Do I stay, do I fight
Who’s my brother, who’s my mother
Who’s my wife, and who’s my lover
It’s me, or them, It’s now, or then
May be community, Or a lion’s den
Who’s my brother, who’s my mother
Who’s my wife, and who’s my lover
Do I tango do I talk, Do I make or break a wall
If I fly will I fall
Left right Left right Wrong Right Wrong Right
Far right Outta sight Dark Light Dark Light
Left right Left right
Who’s my brother, who’s my mother
Who’s my wife, and who’s my lover
Now we come to the crux of it
Be a Bodhisattva Brit
Only self, cherishin’ spin
Explains the state we’re in
Our imperialistic past
Built the wealth of our state
Now we’d better give some back
Before it’s way too late
Sean Hunt June 7 2016
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC
Do I leave, Do I stay
Do I play or run away
Which way today
Go left, go right
Do I stay, do I fight
Who’s my brother, who’s my mother
Who’s my wife, and who’s my lover
It’s me, or them,
It’s now, or then
Maybe my community,
Or a dangerous lion’s den
Do I tango,
Do I talk
Do I break
Or make a wall
Do I fly
Or do I fall
Left right Left right
Wrong Right Wrong Right
Far right Outta sight
Loose Tight Loose Tight
Left right Left right
Well now I’ve come to the crux of it
I’m going to be a Bodhisattva Brit
All this self, cherishing spin
Explains the state we’re in
Our imperialistic past
Built the wealth of our state
Now we’d better give some back
Before it’s way too late
Sean Hunt June 7 2016
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 2:04 AM UTC
Forgive a scant and doleful rant
Of mindless scoffed derision,
I find of late I’m quite irate
To read of politicians
Who’s rampant views anoint the news
With all their bluff and bluster,
And so I trust you’ll see I must
Unleash the angst I muster!
These are the folk you called a joke
During the last election,
You found them bland, yet watched them stand
Like some half-cocked ********
You would not think to share a drink
With them whilst watching football,
And if they pushed to gain your trust
You’d prob’ly give them ---- all!
So now I’m mad and rather sad
To see my friends conspiring
With nodding heads and “what he said’s”,
Perhaps you need re-wiring?
The EU vote has got your goat
And sides have to be taken,
But if you choose an MPs shoes
To follow you’re mistaken!
Go get online and spend the time
To do your own fact finding,
The vote you cast is going to last,
The outcome will be binding;
It matters not one single jot
To me, “you’re out”, “you’re in”,
Keep hold your pride and choose a side,
Don’t let the B------- win!
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 5:58 AM UTC
Unbeknowst to all,
The tree of life has three stages.
Trunk. Branch. Oil.
Terrence Malick knew this.
Dinosaurs our oil.
Ten sephira. One oil.
It is my burden of dreams, I shall prevail through the pongo del muerto.
Foucault's pendulum spilling sand. Spilling oil.
Scaoil. Release. Urchar.
Sraith pictiúr a ceathar.
Airborne toxic event.
Seepage Daniel. Seepage.
Put Oil.
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
By twist and ties from ages past,
We are but Union bound
Ruled from afar by silver spoons,
'til hope and freedom found,
A fire in the belly of daughters and sons
Made a home in faces awash in blue,
With roaring thunder in voices loud, proclaim;
A Scot! Proud, free, canny and true.
Past leaders, past has-beens, past moguls and crooks,
The passion spreads, face to face,
Tangible static in the Square tonight,
The cone standing tall in it's place.
The fire of the people out in the streets,
Casting eyes to freedom's distant shores,
Their message clear and printed in bold,
With every paper passed through street-lit doors.
'Saor Alba! 'Alba gu Bràth!'
The spirit of Scotia is free.
'Bairns not Bombs!' 'Seize it with both hands!', they cry,
This Aye vote is for you, and for me.
With faith, with courage, with braw, gallus grace,
This word will nae weesht, but spread,
Not if but when, not now but again,
Independence is ne'er 'put to bed'.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 7:35 PM UTC