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AP Staunton Mar 2016
Conor's got P.E. , so his kit is washed,
I've wrapped his butties in foil, so they don't get squashed,
Pork Luncheon meat, in a crispy roll,
And a carton of Ribena, to fill that hole.

Jess starts College at One, so she'll wake at Five - to ,
Cheese and Pickle, will have to do,
I've had my pint of milk, with three Weetabix,
Got a Flagon of Cider, all the boxes are ticked.

A days grafting ahead, out near Billingshurst,
Laying bricks and blocks, building up a thirst,
And home to the hungry, back to the shops,
It's either Chicken Kievs, or half-price lamb chops.

Custard and Pie, hot milky drinks,
Then everyones asleep, except for me, who thinks,
About tomorrows butties, fruit and snacks,
Calories, nutrition, vitamins and facts.

Up at dawn, in an old bobble-hat,
Making food for them all, even the cat,
A tin of Tuna, he's well impressed,
Another flagon of Cider, another sweat-stained vest.
A butty is a sandwich, in my neck of the woods
Joseph Burley Sep 2012
The Lung.

The broken bone branches hang heavy off knuckled tree. As cold and uninviting as wrapped meat in cellophane prison cells and those sweating milk bottles left on doorsteps. Women cry with the blackbirds as day breaks, rousing their reluctant nests.
As the shadows trawl in from chicken farms and slaughterhouses, across the squalid estates and past a debt collectors party. A ***** drinks his soot like coffee and waits for another years tide to retreat. Holding pith less ambitions and unmentionable qualifications, stewardess pass, uniformed thoughts and averting faces..
The rusty playgrounds sink into the fermenting wood chips, and a plastic bag runs through the scene; only to commit suicide in the oil ribbon canal. The chemical clouds thicken into a duvet of sky whilst  arrows of a natural sun run home with tears of fear on their hot faces.
Down here the street lights flicker, and the patched uniforms drape off children sick with the flu that hit the school like a plague. Herding like cattle into the classrooms, to learn about the natural world
that is most unearthly to there reason.
Lunch bells ring from factories and the sky has drained to a sick -off white. The chip shop sells butties with no sauce nor bun, which machine like men guzzle and slurp.
The car parks lay stagnant in the distance and pigeons too fat to fly lay droppings on the bronze statue of a crying hero. As the roaring stops from the factories and high visibility coats are hung,  the sky bruises and the men fill the pubs, until wives with children hung on washing lines drag there sweat soaked frames to the table, only to indulge them in a row.
Night creeps in, bringing with it the hooded figures that flutter along the streets. Music plays from a vacant building and seems to brighten the night.
A silhouette is seen standing on the edge, watching the busses bellow run like migrating snails, filled with the elderly and too young.
Cigarettes infest the streets creating a carpet of ash and litter. The city survives, remaining grey, never blinking, never heard.
Not but he's, but butties, chip butties, egg butties, cheese ham and spam butties,

they always taste to me of sometime back in sixty-three when I was seven, such a lucky lad to have such a marvellous dad who knew exactly how to do a buttie.

They call them common now
food for the working class
well
they can kiss my ***
they taste like the bread of heaven
to me.
nick armbrister Jan 2018
garage tools
orbital sander sanding away
big it up for the orbital sander
getting sand on now now now
hear the orbital sander sand away

orbital sander
orbital sander
orbital sander
sand sand sand!

like his mate the orbital grinder
give it a good grind
grind away on the go
watch that baby grind away

orbital grinder
orbital grinder
orbital grinder
grind grind grind!

hydraulic ramp going up and down
no car is too heavy
fantastic hydraulics
touch of a button up down up down

hydraulic ramp
hydraulic ramp
hydraulic ramp
lift lift lift!

laser gig perfectly aligned
laser beam on target
crash damage repair perfection
laser accuracy beyond compare

laser gig
laser gig
laser gig
laser laser laser!

boss is doing a ******* eppy
the tech is too reliable
he bosses and bullies
his young apprentices about

sweep the floor
male the brews
fetch the butties
you ****** slaves
boss boss boss!
Yenson Jun 2019
Unstable rabble
ill in mind, body and soul
unfulfilled and desperately unhappy
fearful always, insecure, lacking and inadequate
skeletons in cupboards, shaming secrets hidden aplenty
false, fake, white-washed and all semblance soulless nonentities
vacuous sad pathetic weak and academically challenged majority
ignorant belligerent bellicose cowards, drunkards n mob shysters

rise, rise. rise
jump, jump. jump
do the twist n put the boot in

stand up and bellow
you can't loose your chains
your self loathing is too great
your shame and pains hurt all the time
you are reminded of your insignificance always
your helplessness and your weaknesses shames you
you always have to fake it, scrape, beg, borrow and steal
the aggrieved spectators as talents, wealth and the ritzy drive past

rise, rise, rise
jump, jump, jump
do the locomotion and spread the ****

scream and shout
hurl slander and lies
fight like cowards and bully
get badass and wicked and mean
get ****** angry and get ****** even
leave your bacon butties and fry the greedy pigs
forget your chips and come chip the brains of the tyrants hogs
put down those pints and lets keep this momentum of hate alive so

rise, rise, rise
jump, jump, jump
do the stoning and lets move like Jagger
SATIRE: For the many, not the few, If you dare LAUGH at any single word or prose in the inspirational poem you are a Class-traitor and you would be reported to the Stasi Apparatchiks who will make your life a living hell and you will wish you are dead, it goes without saying that you will also never **** again in your life for the Stasis will make sure that you will never have a partner ever again. You have been warned, this is a serious matter and solidarity is our salvation. Now, go do your duty and find a rich person to burgle, taunt, torment, harass and hate with all your cowardly energy, you loonies, pinkos, sados, weirdos, stinkos commies. Remember, a single smile from you and its hell for you all, go ask that Purple rain **** about it.
Tony Luxton Jun 2015
Gone are the glory days of jam butties
when marmalade was shredded gold
and spam pretended to be ham
and plum jam tested for a cold.

The wireless was our window on the world.
The Weekly News and Guardian
gave local news, views and reviews.
Street chatter made stories that much fatter.

That world now reappears to me.
But in it I take no part.
No good, no bad, no clumsy me,
no touch, no sound, no sacred heart-to-heart.
with a cold 'plum jam' = 'plub jab'
Tina ford Jun 2014
I was brought up on a council estate,
I had 53 aunty's and I was everyones mate,
We played out till dark or till we felt hunger,
We'd beg mum or dad to let us play longer,
I had holes in me shoes but they made me run faster,
I had national health glasses held together with plaster,
Dried snot on me face mixed in with the dirt,
Corporation pop stains all over me skirt,
But I was happy,
Go of for the day with butties of jam,
If we where lucky, some biscuits of me mam,
An old fairy liquid bottle full of cold water,
There's one we'd always chase, but never ever caught her,
We'd make dens in the woods from old boxes and trays,
Be princesses in a castle, oh what joyful days,
We'd sit in the field, making daisy chains,
Play rounders and hido, and loads of games,
Run to the mobile for a 10p mix of sweets,
Sit on the curly wall at the bottom of our street,
Pinch a bunch of flowers from St Gregs ground,
And say to mum "honestly they where found",
Get grounded for giving cheek or answering back,
Walked along the ralla, the old train track,
Wait for the icey, all of us in drones,
To ask him politely for any stale cones,
Played out in the rain, got soaked through and through,
Just some of the things we used to do,
In those endless summers of my past,
That have gone far to fast,
But they have made me who I am now,
A ****** of Mother and a miserable cow.
Haha joking,
I'm proud of my childhood, I was very lucky.
Yenson Jul 2020
Like its my fault
you are amongst the Seventy percent
of the worlds poor and under-privileged mass
but our feral chavs can talk
after-all you're brimming with bacon butties
and full of fish and chips
while you collect welfare money and zoom to
off-licences for *****
be proud you're in the same league table of poors
as Calcutta street beggars
of those from the shantys' in S. Africa or favela
in Brazil or bridge sleepers in Gambia
they don't get welfare or have the hot chippie
or kebab shop round the corner
as for ***** they say we can't even afford food
for belly much less *****
so our western seventy per-centers fighting elites
why not give up the bacon butties
and the pub trips and the weeds and crack smack
and go spend a month in Africa
where the sun will roast you and toughened you up
and street life will learn you to hell
then come back and fight your war against the elites
cos as you are now you're just cannon fodders
with full stomach and useless idles
like all that is my fault, n'est-ce pas ?
The Umbrella

It was a rainy sort
Of afternoon, when I crossed
The bridge didn't notice
Half it was missing.
Held on to my brolly when I fell
Parachuted landed on a barge.
They needed a deckhand.

The sea was a black mirror, the cook
Was artistic and ****** we only had
Bacon butties that day
I gave the collapsible canopy to the first mate
It was green and covered
In seagull droppings
Peter Kiggin Aug 2017
Deep river....

.. ..

.. ..

.. ..

A deep river runs fast below beneath under eyes see....

.. ..

It carries it drowns it is and it always shall be....

.. ..

This river reminder of lost things and the finder of dreams....

.. ..

A tree bows lower as the river whispers to leaves....

.. ..

An animal feeds better down the river as it breathes....

.. ..

A boat on the water drifts to its meandering waves pleased....

.. ..

A swimming disaster as children cannot fight what they cannot conceive....

.. ..

A river in summer is quiet as cherry blossom scents to come smell on the breeze....

.. ..

A dog splashes around as we lay blankets and eat jam butties and sip our warm teas....

.. ..

Drift full bellied to sleep as the river passes by and you dream of hearts so free.....
Yenson Sep 2019
The Offence finder lame conjurers are busy
blowing fantasies from their continuous back arses
in their claws puppet strings attached to something missing
say they're watching a circus quite obviously their brains' in crisis
for the only circus in town is a bunch of deluded peasants in a tizzy
truancy excess tea an bacon butties had made them brainless an crazy
They really should lynch that man, hey its us salt-of-the-earth that should be *******, not that man. Can't you see he is taking the mickey and laughing at us, and we are the ones running around doing all this nonsensical non-verbal programing ****, what's going on people or more exactly comrades, we are the Power, remember that for heaven sake, that ****** man is taking liberties, What? he can't take liberties, he been invalidated, *******...if so, why are we running around making ***** of ourselves and why is he making us look like fools..Oh, they're even saying our Leader is not fit to rule much less us mediocre s, can't we ever do anything right, why don't we have any class for **** sake.

He's not crying you stupid brick-head, he's laughing at your stupid antics..!!
Yenson Sep 2020
Once you know the motive
the rest is hogwash
pigs grunting as pigs do
honking honking honking
they are at home in dirt
racking mud in mud baths
honking to their contents
splattering mud here and there
their long snouts poking dirt
the muslims say avoid pork
because they are unclean animals
cursed by Allah
to forever squirm and rake in mud
a life-long obsession with all that is ***** and muddy
only the unclean eat pigs for its dirt to dirt
give them their bacon butties and let them gorge on it
for nothing clean, decent, moral or rewarding comes from the unclean
hogwash from hogs, dirts from dirts, honking from honkers
Allahu Akbar
a little ditty about pigs
Yenson Jun 2021
Hail us all in our vacuous cocoon
see not the chains we do not see
for in weakness grows our invisible power
as we rile and make it up as we go along
what they tell us we duly believe  
creating our drama of magicians
in our commune of rigged illusionists

Tell us no truth for we make our own
the unreal be as real as we want it to be
its always as we see and that's the draw
give us no minds to evaluate or discern
speak not of intellect or critical appraisals
in our lowlands of monkey see monkey do
good enough for our fathers good enough for us

Diluted information is power we hold
tittle tattle gossips and innuendos rocks
we hold dear our abilities in lies and falsehood
in delusions we trust as integrity means nothing
for a majority of cowards means bullying win the vote
we can make thieves saints and a man a horse
what is honour among thieves psychos and narcissists
we are but a solidarity of contemptible air head terrorists
drunk on fish and chips and bacon butties
Yenson Sep 2021
Let's play word association
you say 'doubts'
I say 'nonsense'
you say 'confusion'
I say ' in your ignorant minds'
you say ' check'
I say 'too late, I was born ready'
you say 'nihilism'
I say 'go burn the Central Bank'
you say 'lonely'
I say 'that's a state of mind for an intellect'
you say 'war'
I say 'haha, first world problems, go travel
see the world and see people who beg money from
beggars and mothers who sell their children to live,
then come talk to me about war and revolution after
your bacon butties and cup of strong tea two sugars
You say 'control'
I say 'you have been under control from the day you
were born, as was your father and your father's father,
the joke is you appear not to be aware of this'
you say 'Royalty'
I say 'its got to be somebody, its a lottery after-all'
you say 'void'
I say 'most of you are on minimum wages, fetch carry
or on Benefits counting pennies, you're already voided
even if you haven't begun, I got off my *** and became the man you envy enough to cancel, so void at my level is a privilege.
You say 'depression'
I say 'I'm not the one hungrily and busily trying to inflect miseries
and suffering on another human being'
You say '*****'
I say 'I say 'send your washed mama, sister or aunties round and
they'll inform you or ask Lyndilou.  
and what do you say
when I say
A well rounded Princely man with all the princely attributes
wise, intelligent, charming, kind, sagacious, engaging, brave
courageous, versatile stoic, considerate, honourable and solid.
Bet you go red in the face, heart and mind....hahaha
My Granny
May Malone
Was a lovely lady
Sadly she was alone
Grandpa died when I was ten
I remember his grave stone
All that time back then
Granny was such a brilliant cook
She didn’t have to use a recipe book
She cooked straight from the heart
To her it was a simple art
Mushed up cabbage was simply delicious
But the sheep brain butties I was suspicious
Thought it was cottage cheese
I said no thanks, oh please!
My mum did laugh
I spat it out with upmost wrath
She thought it was funny
I washed out my mouth
Then grabbed some honey
We had such fun way back then
And fun with grandpa before I was ten!
Yenson Sep 2020
Once you know the motive
the rest is hogwash
pigs grunting as pigs do
honking honking honking
they are at home in dirt
racking mud in mud baths
honking to their contents
splattering mud here and there
their long snouts poking dirt
the muslims say avoid pork
because they are unclean animals
cursed by Allah
to forever squirm and rake in mud
a life-long obsession with all that is ***** and muddy
only the unclean eat pigs for its dirt to dirt
give them their bacon butties and let them gorge on it
for nothing clean, decent, moral or rewarding comes from the unclean
hogwash from hogs, dirts from dirts, honking from honkers
Allahu Akbar
Yenson Jan 2020
When you put pigs in charge of Democracy
you get pigswill and muck!!
playing ***** chess
and eating bacon butties
unaware of the irony
enough said!!.....

Within the dialogues of Plato, the founding father of Greek Philosophy – Socrates – is portrayed as hugely pessimistic about the whole business of democracy. In his Book Six of The Republic, Plato describes Socrates falling into conversation with a character called Adeimantus and trying to get him to see the flaws of democracy by comparing a society to a ship. If you were heading out on a journey by sea, asks Socrates, who would you ideally want deciding who was in charge of the vessel? Just anyone or people educated in the rules and demands of seafaring? The latter of course, says Adeimantus, so why then, responds Socrates, do we keep thinking that any old person should be fit to judge who should be a ruler of a country?

Socrates’s point is that voting in an election is a skill, not a random intuition. And like any skill, it needs to be taught systematically to people. Letting the citizenry vote without an education is as irresponsible as putting them in charge of a trireme sailing to Samos in a storm. Socrates was to have first hand, catastrophic experience of the foolishness of voters.

In 399 BC, the philosopher was put on trial on ******* up charges of corrupting the youth of Athens. A jury of 500 Athenians was invited to weigh up the case and decided by a narrow margin that the philosopher was guilty. He was put to death by hemlock in a process which is, for thinking people, every bit as tragic as Jesus’s condemnation has been for Christians.

Crucially, Socrates was not elitist in the normal sense. He didn’t believe that a narrow few should only ever vote. He did, however, insist that only those who had thought about issues rationally and deeply should be let near a vote. We have forgotten this distinction between an intellectual democracy and a democracy by birthright. We have given the vote to all without connecting it to that of wisdom. And Socrates knew exactly where that would lead: to a system the Greeks feared above all, demagoguery.
painful experience of demagogues,  forgotten all about Socrates’s salient warnings against democracy. We have preferred to think of democracy as an unambiguous good – rather than a process that is only ever as effective as the education system that surrounds it. As a result, we have elected many crooks and clowns, wasters and dumb anarchists, and very few trained, educated, erudite and wise leaders

— The End —