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RJP Aug 2018
Nina Simone, occupying ears singing about bed and dressers.
Sparsely populated
young couple
Interrupted by saying amusements.
Only two stops
I know where to get off

I knew to mind the gap
I'm a responsible citizen
Voter with a valid railcard
Only two stops
Purchased a ticket
Only two stops
I can not throw up in that time

I can not clear my system of over-priced beer
A niche in the market
Exploited in the name of money Making let's just raise them
let's charge extortionate rates for an autoimmune disease

Paying to support a normal drinking culture embedded into the narrative
Growing by in the western world Listening to Nina Simone
Only one stop now you'd never know what life would be like

Without loud pop charts entertaining a few leaving the others yearning the return of ABBA when times were simpler and people cared about Eurovision and illegal music was your own

“Tickets please”
He seems awfully jolly for a late night ****-shift on Arriva Trains Wales
Who's making him work and why's he So ******* happy about it
Real extra effort! Soul sapping in my opinion
Last stop gotta get off.
This is one's for any of the Welsh here.
Ben Jones Nov 2013
A legendary sweet tooth, had Lady Felicity Barratt
So swift towards the sugar bowl, so wary of the carrot
She dined on only trifle from a honey coated spoon
But tooth decay accosted her and left her in a swoon

By the time she turned just twenty, her two front teeth were gone
By thirty she was running short and on her final one
When that fell out, she sought a dentist, promptly one arrived
She opened up her grizzly mouth and in the fella dived

He took a cast and took his leave with dentures to be hewn
With satisfaction guaranteed by Friday afternoon
And never did the lady have a reason to suspect
The secret intervention of an evil dental sect

By bribing several bakeries and sweetie shops and stalls
A dossier had been compiled within their sacred halls
For crimes against good dentistry were nothing short of sin
Their retribution must be swift or people might join in

Upon that self same Friday, at the very cusp of noon
One Doctor Bingo Rogers and his burly hired goon
Came knocking at her premises with dental kit and drills
With a mission to sedate her and to exercise their skills

They knocked her out with ethanol and chloroform and air
And strapped her to a hastily erected dentist's chair
The evil teeth were lodged in place and ******* into her gums
The bill was quite extortionate, for monumental sums

The shamanic orthodontist, with his henchman in his wake
A martyr to the vegetable and nemesis of cake
Was keen to see his handiwork and kept a watchful eye
For curious occurrences as days went quickly by

By Christmas there was nothing, until on New Year's Eve
Her teeth got uncooperative and forced the girl to leave
They dragged her by her dainty face and led her to the shops
She stood and munched on sugar canes and giant lollipops

They stuffed her face with chocolates, still nestled in their packets
And then a rack of nylon shirts and seven leather jackets
On every size of shoe, she munched; from sixes up to twelves
She nibbled through the party food and gnawed upon the shelves

Then off she sped, into the street, to pursue a passing horse
Dragged along by wicked teeth and supernatural force
But dentures lack in vision, and especially at pace
So when she caught it by the foot she caught it in the face

She skidded to a grizzly halt with arms and legs all twisted
And next to her, a note with all her dental errors listed
So beware the wrath of dentists and obey when they command
And sleep with one eye open and a carrot close to hand

For though our poor Felicity was buried good and hard
Despite floral cupcake with the Dental Cult's regard
And though her body, to this day, lies safely in the ground
The horse escaped that evening and the teeth were never found...
"Young Man found Murdered in East End. Police believe that in the early hours of Tuesday morning a young man who hasn’t been named  was tragically killed. His body was found the following morning by his cleaning lady. There has been much speculation linking this latest death to the series of murders that has happened in the capital over the past two weeks."

The headline news at the moment, yes another ******. This time another man killed, the ever changing result at the moment is now two men and three young women. It seems the killer prefers severing the femoral artery of his victim, thus securing a fast and ****** end to their poor pathetic lives.

I read intently, the pure supposition by law enforcement officials that seems to me to be almost comical in nature. They bandy words like Serial Killer and Maniac across the pages of every news paper.
I smile, as I fold it in half, placing it neatly on the table next to my breakfast things, for I know that tonight another ****** will occur. First things first though, I have to go and earn my keep.

I work as an investment banker in the cities renown square mile. Yes I am one of those so called pariahs who is happy to receive the extortionate bonuses that the majority of Londoners and the rest of the country, I might add, are all so busy complaining about. I must concede to the fact that I totally deserve every penny I get but I suppose I would say that, wouldn’t I?

Pariah, yes that’s me pretty much to a tee.

Pariah: definition, outcast: somebody who is despised and avoided. Yes that sums me up perfectly even if I do say so myself. Of course most of my friends and colleagues would not be of that opinion at this moment in time but I do believe that they will come to this decision soon enough. As I have already stated, I have a crust to earn so I had better start to make a move, the rent won’t pay its self you know. I won’t bore you with the daily working life of an investment banker, the majority of you idiots wouldn’t understand me even if I did, so I will fast forward ten hours and once more speak to you from more comfortable surroundings, this time in the guise of a well frequented public ale house in the East end of London.

As my night progresses I see her across the now bustling and noisy lounge area and yes, she is something to behold. God has been very kind to this young lady. Her name is Petunia and a more than willing victim one will never meet. She is perfectly formed and voluptuous in every way you can imagine. Just what I am looking for on this lovely summers evening. Over the course of the evening the charm flourishes and Petunia and I laugh, chat and drink our way through it, getting even closer as the night closes in. This is working lovely, that flash of thigh as she rubs her leg along my own. The glint in her eyes tells me that this young woman has succumbed, hook line and sinker to my charms.

Not one of those to big myself up but this is of no surprise to me, as I do believe I have everything almost every woman would ever want. The looks, personality and money, with this in mind, she never stood a chance really. We leave the pub arm in arm, she looks a little unsteady due to the drink.

Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly and she is so prone to take that first step. Our destination, her flat just a stones throw away. My mind racing, excitement so enthused within my cool and calm exterior.

If you have been following the events of the last few weeks you will know that the past five Murders were all committed with a short sharp blade entering into the groin area. I am so aware of that silken metal that the steel presents to my leg. I feel it intently even through the leather sheath that is bound so securely below my trouser leg. I am so aroused at this moment in time.

Inside Petunia’s flat we waste no time getting close as I push my quarry back onto the divan. After the initial fumbling we are almost there. As we taste each others tongues my left hand reaches down to select my weapon from its casing. I feel its coldness in my hand, raising it to the desired position. All I have to do now is slide it forward and penetrate.

My hands are sweating. As we feed on each other with our mouths I feel my hand shaking. I try to shut off the emotions now running through my mind but I cannot do it. I pull my mouth away from her succulent lips and realize that this is just not going to happen. It felt like such a good idea until now, I was so motivated before this but I just haven’t got it in me to **** this beautiful woman.

A sharp pain brings me to my senses as the blade slides into my groin. The pumping coldness that is now soaking through the material of my Armani trousers. I am shaking so much, in Hemorrhagic shock, as my life’s blood pumps from my femoral artery. She pushes me onto my back, as I fight to keep breathing, Petunia looks down at me smiling.

“Thank you for a lovely night -- Number Six.”
2013
If I could write my thoughts
You may not quite understand
For the words we are stapled with
Seem ridiculously bland

Music flows like colours to beat
Hypnotising my soul, sparking my senses
Controlling my body I'll jump to my feet
Unimportance of visuals like seeing through lenses

If emotionally moved why not be 'fantabulous'
Eyes closed I see clearer and all is so peachy
Bisto relates to Sunday but life is better gravy
Grey Monday's depress but not 'Grey..You get me?

Just separate your instincts of colours and such
Words are just letters You'll see in a bit
Brains installed with viral fake mush
Some never stray from the path of life's Pit

So blasphemy like '*******, **** and ****
Bad letters because swearing is ...wrong?
The four letter 'C' word the worst though admit
Cos **** is just letters made worse for too long

Sue is my name all over the world
Yet Mum can be Mom, Dad, Pa, Pere
If taught **** for Mum wisdom are not pearls
Red is not hot blue is not cold transparent unclear

So simply my mind see's what's gone so wrong
To un -train what's been taught like losing a limb
People are 'Crazy' to not follow and conform!
Don't get the page yet? read on its no sin

Fantabulously individually Humans
My DNA matches no others so why  march to the tip TOP beat
How beautiful we are 'ALL' Races of humans, Us
The recent power crazed gave racism a ******

****, Racism, diets, Religion
War, Rich, Poor, just made up words
Humans empathetic risers to imagine
No hate, selfishness, Malice in Humans that's Absurd!

Do we find Racial abuse amongst Dogs, Cats and such
So many species but a ***** is a ***** regardless of colour
Rabbits in the wild don't live in a hutch
Straying the point lets try to mull over

From born colour coded, numbered and named
Associated colours, Pink Girls, Blue Boys
Lemon and white if scans are waylaid
Colours are just preferences or visual noise

Taught to be the best you can be
Strive to the top, the higher, the best
Already are wedging the You and the Me
Hang on..Oh look.. I come from the 'West'

How hard to be taught to embrace our uniqueness
Respect, Love and cherish the short time we're here
Selflessly love, change this bare rotten bleakness
Humanity release this dark You enslave

No rich or poor just balanced and happy
Heinz not for me still love store brand
Caviare Hallooga Ballooga, Whatever, Really?
If not jisting my drift now... You're not of this land!?...


All I'm saying is we are all unique so live life to the full, embrace love and happiness, help others where you can, be selfless, respect costs nothing as does a smile, no need for fad dieting, embrace your unique self, let's strive to make Humans be the best we can be but embrace the journey together, life is not a competition or a race, beauty can not be visualised or bought, true beauty 'can' be the ugly ducling surrounded by selfish nasty swans.  Feel the love in all Humans globally.  The one's who lead us at the tippedy top have been hypnotised by some othre in-humane greedy, selfish sub species, who I shall name the darkness and unknown fear we only feel, because remember to visualise is irrelevant to our existence , it's through our feelings, fears and thoughts they attack first, causing panic amongst the trustworthy of our so called Governments.  If they all wanted the best for us then by al means pull together as ONE Government, but to diminish the value of money is just a way of controlling us, keeping the rich rich and richer and making the poor the lowest, ,maybe now homeless **** in society we all feel uncomfortable around?  If all houses cost the same, all wages paid the same rate and no unnecessary taxes to park a vehicle, drive the vehicle, toll costs when in the same country and no tax on wages...What they spending that **** on? We already pay tax on the area we live, yes roadworks, police, fire crews, New Homes even, street improvements have to be funded by tax to pay wages... fair enough.  No taxing us on our hard worked, underpaid jobs that we lose blood sweat and tears over and lets face it 3/4 of that goes back into the government with tv licence, overpriced food, tobacco, extortionate fuel companies conning you out ya money with standing charges and charging you more kw for the £ on the ever gracious £5-8 emergency they put on pre payment machines.  Then If your lucky enough to have worked and lived an average life you can buy your own house which you pay of untill your pension years.... god forbid you need residential care if u lose your mind or you can kiss your financial future for your kids cos that care don't come under the good old NHS.... and is soooooo over priced and understaffed by mostly aliens of society that the government take the house and money to pay for their care???? ******* rediculous.  And of course when U die you have to pay a % of the value of that house to the government.....for?? Yea what the **** for? My house? Go **** yourself!...The free bus pass don't cut it, the discount priced fish and chips DON'T cut it!!

You know the thing that grates me the most? TV Advertisements, e.g Washing powder ads.... 10 years ago it removed 'all' stains and made whites whiter than white... now 10 years on and Fantabulously new and improved with colour protection and stain, bomb, bullet proof...Yes you have guessed it, makes whites 'even' whiter! ha.. white is white it don't get whiter.....all scams for money....stick a trusted celebrity in the ad....and you could sell chocolate teapots to the masses...

My Motto..... Eat well, live life, embrace our imperfections cos perfection is unreachable, unachievable and installed into us to get more money, more power, more **** knows?  Don't be ruled by the soldiers and the puppets of society, believe in what you like and respect that others may not always agree with you but we are entitled to our opinion, not everyone is going to agree, that's what makes us different, never seen a war starting over country A likes coffee Country B likes Tea....lets go to war to battle it out....Make war against the law... would solve asylum seekers, ad that god dam racism word, bring back golly Wogs and baa baa black sheep...ridiculous...my childhood was when thatcher was in reign.... oh how the man 'o' species let 1 woman come into power and claim she ****** it..... anyway straying again...Wake up People Freedom is lost,  lets not let them take our souls too!!
Ben Jones Feb 2013
There's an office away from the high street
Where the ordinance survey resides
And the walls there are painted with boredom
Not a singular giggle abides
But there's one room below, in the cellar
Where Connor completes the new maps
Adding green and blue spots and churches
Putting pine trees in all of the gaps

Now just two days before publication
He was feeling mischievous and bold
So he pulled out the map of his village
And he penned the words "Here Be Gold"
Then he folded them neatly and deftly
He took them for copy and print
Bid his colleagues a wonderful summer
And he left just approaching a sprint

So the map making season was over
And his handiwork soon was for sale
Connor waited and made preparation
To ensure that his scheme didn't fail
He rented a tired ice cream van
And he filled it with cunning supplies
When his phone rang one Saturday morning
He spoke with well measured surprise

That call brought a knock to his doorway
And a nod to a neighbouring field
With a mind to extract precious metals
And a promise of half of the yield
"That field belonged to my father"
Young Connor was quick to invent
"You can dig just as much as you like there
It's three hundred a day for the rent"

There was much in the way of discussion
Then a scratching of paper and pen
A shake of a hand and a smiling
They were gone by a quarter past ten
So he counted they money they left him
They had paid him a week in advance
It would certainly pay off the mortgage
With some left for a weekend in France

On Monday there came with a rumbling
A convoy of notable size
There were trailers with diggers and cabins
And vans full of tools and supplies
All halted by general consensus
They unloaded each pallet and crate
Not seeing that over the field
Young Connor had bolted the gate

With a fever they started to burrow
With the sun beating down on their backs
They were tiring by the mid morning
But provisions were curiously lax
When in rolled a tired ice cream van
Playing green sleeves in hideous tones
Soon the workers were queuing in masses
For Fanta and lollies and cones

But the bill drew a gasp from each punter
Though the thirst had them caught by the *****
So they paid the extortionate prices
And stripped to their workmanlike smalls
At the end of the day they departed
And only young Connor remained
With a plan and a shiny new toolbox
Which he'd only just lately obtained

The next day the foremen and drivers
Found their diggers unable to dig
The engines were gone from their bonnets
And the oil had escaped from their rig
There was much of the pointing and cursing
And some harsh accusations were made
In the end they decided to press on
And continue with bucket and *****

They made quite a hole in the field
And they slowly descended from sight
They were forty feet down by the evening
And lamenting the vanishing light
When one of them turned with a bucket
To ferry out some of the spoil
When he came to what should be a ladder
And found only two dents in the soil

Connor slept and he dreamed of his fortune
And was thankfully hardy and stout
Or he'd certainly be more exhausted
After dragging those ladders about
In the morning he took to the field
With a bag and a rope and a smile
He leaned forward and peering downwards
Did proclaim in benevolent style

"Ahoy there you diggers and bucket men
Are you stranded in this here hole?"
There were cries from the depths and more cursing
And pleas that would shatter the soul
"I am sorry but I have no ladders
But I do have a coil of rope
You'd better shed weight for I'm sickly
I'm afraid that I may well not cope"

"So take off your rings and your watches
Your mobile phones and your cash
And pile them into a bucket
I'll hoist them all out in a flash"
After further complaining and shouting
Connor stood with a bucket of loot
And with that he went back to his cottage
Twas a very successful commute

The next year in the ordinance survey
On the map of the place he resides
In the field that belonged to his father
Amid pine trees and yet more besides
There are words in the faintest of letters
Between pictures of diggers and tools
Saying "Here Be Gold if you know where to look
And a ****** great hole full of fools"
Olivia Kent Feb 2014
"England, ah."
Green and pleasant;  full of pleasant trees.
Cottages of chocolate looks, from story books.
Scribes from days gone by, using erstwhile language ,The Baird and Marlowe, E.A.Poe, to name but a few.
Poesy of poets, all rhyming in time, in sonnets and linnets, that tweet from the trees.
Towers of history, subliminal mystery.
Queens and kings and royal things, of palaces and promenades.
Our nation of knights, dames, ladies and gents.
Tatty old flats with extortionate rents, stately, homes and messy houses.
Farms of smells and beasts of burden.
Of pantomime horses, and grassy race courses.
Seashore and see moor.
(C) LIVVI
Stanley Wilkin Mar 2018
I crept into my soul in the profoundest night:
where spectral owls honked and hooted in fickle fright
and tongues rasped out sihouettes-
deepening shadows crawled from ***** mouths,
and love slunk around tattered skirts
in imitation of fungi growths:
paper covered me from head to shin
when I let the shadows thin fingers in!
words assembled like building blocks
men in high-heels/boys in frocks.  
                         In the morning, the sun
scoured my skin. I leant on the devil, standing alone,
                          he flipped me a coin
like he'd just tossed me a biscuit and a blood-red bone,
               as I whimpered into the mirror's torn
shimmering shafts of innocence, where beauty assaulted the black-eyed crone
for salutory afternoon tea,
the pretty boy charging the ugly boy an extortionate fee.

and the devil sang in the metronomic gloom
of departed joys.
I returned to my room,
playing with the boys-
coming intensely as the ice displayed
the solitary if fashionable route to Hades.
.
SassyJ Jan 2017
I came to your hometown team
inserted in hallucinatory dreams  
inspired sweaty with fused realms
Is it real that you stole Mona Lisa?
At the heart of Louvre in 1911
Is it true that you sneaked her?
was it for a muse or a lover to use?

She would have viewed you sideways
then make love to you at the coffee table
Her beauty enthralled yours in entirely
blending on easel with pencil onto a canvas
Her palate would have swooned your palette  
Her very kiss would have paralyzed in ecstasy
abducting your perpendicular in angular zones

Then you framed it on Guillaume Appollinaire
The poet play wright whom face you just forgot
under the oath, in the sweet name of freeing art
from the prisons of extortionate museums fixtures  
the same exhibitions holding your name and fame
charging fees for a walk around the rhythm of art
a melody not each an every artist will be granted

You made the goddesses and then reduced them to dust
Fernanda soothed the childhood nightmares to lust
Olga the ballerina whom you couldn't share the assets
Marie-Therese the 17year old who hang herself to death
Dora Maar who fought so hard to get your affection
Francoise who left law school for your immortalisation
Jacqueline your passion who you wooed with a dove
Art is a lie that makes us realise the truth (Pablo Picasso)
Reflections after a visit to Pablo Picasso Museum Malaga (38 collections). I wrote a more positive one  on the visit to the Pablo Picasso Museum in France now deleted but will repost....
Big Virge Sep 2021
Now It Clearly Is TRUE... !!!
  
That You Have To Be SHREWD...
In The Things You PURSUE... !!!
  
Because Many Will Take You...
Down DANGEROUS Routes... !!!
  
That Can Take You To Places...
Where You Can Get Traded...
By... Devious DUKES... !!!
  
So You Cannot Confuse...
The Things That You View...
As Being Cool Moves...
As Those That’ll Bear Fruits...
That’ll Make Your Life Cool...
  
Because Pursuing Money...
Makes People Act FUNNY... !!!
  
And Things Can Turn UGLY...
And Make You Feel BLUE... !!!
  
BEFORE You Get CLUES  ...
That You’re Just Being USED...
By Guys Who AREN’T Buddies...  
  
Like Those In The Game...
Where Fame Is What Makes...
These Heads Try To Play...
Your Pursuits Like Your Name...
Can Be Taken In Vain... !!!
  
Once They Have Been Paid...
At... EXTORTIONATE Rates... !!!
  
From Acting To Music...
Pursuits Can Be NEUTERED...
BEFORE They Take Shape... !!!
  
So DON’T You Be FOOLED...
By These Dudes Who Seem Cool...
And Women Who Will Choose...
To Be... QUICK To ABUSE...
  
When It Comes To Pursuits...
of Cash Flow That Is HUGE... !!!
  
You Should Know It’s Called LOOT...  
Because Moves That Are Pulled...
Can Lead Some Heads To Shoot...
More Than Drug Addicts Do... !!!
  
Pursuits Can Be CRUEL...
And Be ARDUOUS Gruels... !!!
  
And I DON’T Mean The Food... !!!
  
What I’m Meaning Is Gruelling...
As In YES... HARD TO DO... !!!
  
Like It Is To Pursue...
Being One Who Is Viewed...
  
As A Gangster Whose Crew...
Will Put BULLETS IN YOU...
Just For Giving Bad Looks... !!!
  
That’s Right I Mean CROOKS...
Who Police Should Pursue...
Who DEFINE The Word CRUEL...
  
Who’ll Pursue Til’ Your END... !!!
If You Show DISRESPECT...
Or... EVER ATTEMPT...
To Take Money From Them...
  
These Are DANGEROUS Heads...
Yes Both Women And Men...  
As Well As Some... Feds’... !!!!!!!!
  
Whose Pursuits Lead To Deaths...
And A Lot of NONSENSE... !!!
  
Like... Shooting For JOKES... ?!?
Cos’ They’re NOT Funny Folks...
Just Like Joe Pesci Quotes... !!!
  
So... What About **’s... ?!?
  
Now I DON’T Pursue Those... !!!
Cos They Leave Brothers BROKE...
  
Because of The Coc’...
That Some Want Up Their Nose...
Just Ask... Al Pacino... !!!
  
And That Is Not A JOKE... !!!
  
Now Pursuing Good Women...
Is What Can Bring Children...
And Family Living...
That’s Allied To GIVING...
And LOVING... NOT Killing... !!!
  
Pursuit of Religion...
Is NOT Far From Sinning...
So Don’t You Be Thinking...
That It Is... Forgiving... !!!
  
Pursue Your Own Lessons...
Before Your Confessing...
To Someone Whose Blessings...
Are... CLEARLY DEFECTIVE... !!!
  
Because Their Connected...
To... EVIL Collectives... !!!
  
Pursue BETTER Headings...
Than Those They’re Selecting... !!!
  
Which Leads To The Ending...
of This Mental Session...
  
of... Pursuing Letters...
That Give Good Directions...
As Well As Progressions...
  
To The Message It’s Sending... !!!
  
Which Has Left A Few Clues...
About Making SMART Moves...
  
That Simply... Say To You...
To Mostly PURSUE TRUTH... !!!
  
Because It’s GOOD To Do...
And Can Help You To FUEL...
  
... A Life That Is COOL... !!!
  
But DON'T You Be FOOLED...
There Are Dangerous Routes...
That Can Darken Your Mood...
As Well As Your... World View...
  
If You... Choose To REFUSE...
To Embrace Being SHREWD...
  
In The Things You.....
  
...... “ Pursue “.......
As the poem says people, be very careful in the things you......
O’ world curious traveller,
Atop the Millenium bridge,
I know St Paul’s is so beautiful,
But try and keep an eye on your kids.

O’ delicious corona,
You look so divine, I’ll admit.
But why are you a whole ******* tenner?!
Are these guys all *******?!

O’ lost Northern bumbler,
Trying ‘down saaaaaath’ for a bit,
Stop standing to the left of the escalator,
You're destroying the system you *****.

O’ impatient young cycler,
Dressed in tight lycra and ****,
You’re going to try and squeeze through those buses?
You’re a ******* for thinking you’ll fit.

O’ excited tube takers,
Your theatrical energy is lit,
But please stop singing in unison,
All should be silent this trip.

To live in this concrete jungle,
You’ll pay extortionate rent for a pit,
But at least you’ll be living the high-life,
Oh wait? I’m poor. And depressed.
Ben Jones Dec 2020
A legendary sweet tooth, had Lady Felicity Barratt
So swift towards the sugar bowl, so wary of the carrot
She dined on only trifle from a honey coated spoon
But tooth decay accosted her and left her in a swoon

By the time she turned just twenty, her two front teeth were gone
By thirty she was running short and on her final one
When that fell out, she sought a dentist, promptly one arrived
She opened up her grizzly mouth and in the fella dived

He took a cast and took his leave with dentures to be hewn
With satisfaction guaranteed by Friday afternoon
And never did the lady have a reason to suspect
The secret intervention of an evil dental sect

By bribing several bakeries and sweetie shops and stalls
A dossier had been compiled within their sacred halls
For crimes against good dentistry were nothing short of sin
Their retribution must be swift or people might join in

They cast her teeth from coffin nails beneath a devil's moon
With Jack the Ripper's upper set, extracted from his tomb
Then polished with the handkerchief of ******'s former cleaner
Stored in Machiavelli's purse, to make them all the meaner

Upon that self same Friday, at the very cusp of noon
One Doctor Bingo Rogers and his burly hired goon
Came knocking at her premises with dental kit and drills
With a mission to sedate her and to exercise their skills

They knocked her out with ethanol and chloroform and air
And strapped her to a hastily erected dentist's chair
The evil teeth were lodged in place and ******* into her gums
The bill was quite extortionate, for monumental sums

The shamanic orthodontist, with his henchman in his wake
A martyr to the vegetable and nemesis of cake
Was keen to see his handiwork and kept a watchful eye
For curious occurrences, as days went slowly by

By Christmas there was nothing, until on New Year's Eve
Her teeth got uncooperative and forced the girl to leave
They dragged her by her dainty face and led her to the shops
She stood and munched on sugar canes and giant lollipops

They stuffed her face with chocolates, still nestled in their packets
And then a rack of nylon shirts and seven leather jackets
On every size of shoe, she munched; from sixes up to twelves
She nibbled through the party food and gnawed upon the shelves

Then off she sped, into the street, to pursue a passing horse
Dragged along by wicked teeth and supernatural force
But dentures lack in vision, and especially at pace
So when she caught it by the foot she caught it in the face

She skidded to a grizzly halt with arms and legs all twisted
And next to her, a note with all her dental errors listed
So beware the wrath of dentists and obey when they command
And sleep with one eye open and a carrot close to hand

For though our poor Felicity was buried good and hard
Despite floral cupcake with the Dental Cult's regard
And though her body, to this day, lies safely in the ground
The horse escaped that evening and the teeth were never found...
Chris Slade Dec 2020
We ain’t sending Christmas cards any more!
We’ve done the list and that’s it!
Oh no!…There’s another one just dropped through the door.
You approach it gingerly like an unexploded bomb
Cautiously wondering “who the eff is it from?”

“Oh no! It’s someone who’s not on the list… the *******!”
Or, an older relative who doesn’t ‘do’ computers....
“We don’t do computers!”...
And so it bounces off them this ‘losers’ two pronged attack.
like getting one in the post and not sending one back!
But we definitely ain’t sending cards any more!

Can’t they just send an e-card, maybe one of those Jacqui whats-her-name jobbies...
with floating fairies, sleigh bell sound effects and ****** labradors too.
Or bang off a picture of Santa on FaceBook, Twitter, SnapChat, Instagram…surely that will do.
Oh no they’ve got to go the whole nine yards.
Even if they buy ****** Poundland Cards
there’s still the cost of a ****** stamp! That’s extortionate too!
No… Sorry… actually not sorry...
We ain’t buying OR sending cards any more!

We’ll donate to charity instead - that’ll be us…
It’ll be cheaper and a lot less fuss.
Sponsor a neglected reindeer, maybe a redundant elf
Or yeh…better still - rescue a pup.
One that WAS just for Christmas then just got chucked.
For me this Christmas mail-out is over - the game's definitely up!
Or really… if all else fails…we’ll just buy next year’s supply
in bulk from the January sales!
In truth we will probably keep on sending cards and just reduce the mailing list as people 'fall off the twig'... That way eventually all that will be left will be the youngsters who either do it on line... or not at all!
Rhiannon Nov 2016
Today I found a Mouse,
Shocked on my lounge floor,
I don't remember inviting him in,
And if there's one there must be more!

I swear my cats give out free passes,
To all these little mice,
Or maybe they pay an entrance fee,
That's of an extortionate price.

But whatever their reason for being here,
I wish that they would leave,
Because I'm sure they'd be much happier,
Outside in the shade of the trees.

And if it's food that they're looking for,
I don't really eat much fruit,
Along with seeds, Grains, I can't grow plants,
So my house isn't that enticing to tell the truth.

However this little Mouse,
Sat on my lounge floor,
Only had half a tail,
And his foot looked rather sore.

So I picked him up gently,
And placed him outside,
In the gap between the grass and Wendy house,
A safe space where he could hide.

And now in the night,
He visits me for little chunks of cheese,
As I hear his dainty feet scatter,
Along the floor to return with the breeze,
Samantha Symonds May 2018
I’ve been given my yellow ticket of leave. Freedom tastes like burnt coffee and soggy toast; I just can’t make breakfast the way the NHS and 10years in psychiatric medicine at Oxford teaches you to.
Everyone in the neighbourhood knows The Housing. Even if they didn’t, the residents that arrive every few months and are gone after nights of screaming and wolf-howls give it away. These sounds will sing around suburbia until something stronger than insanity stops them. The pavements aren’t quite at peace and the buildings seem to sag in the satirical sun in shame. Even the streets just don’t seem quite sane. There are always the telltale signs. The closed curtains in the blazing heat on all the houses on only one side of the road. Or the grinning garden gnomes arranged in a straight line, crushing golden petals beneath their terracotta wellingtons (their smiles glisten like bear traps). Or the flash of a white coat in the sun, dissolving into crevices in the façade of identical houses, row after row.
I don’t think I was destined for dissolution row. But the same old story rears it’s ugly dead; been there, done that, found someone better. Her, not me. I always had an overactive imagination anyway. Like Tourette’s, but in my head. It’s all irrelevant now anyway, because I’ve been chosen.
On visiting The National Gallery of Google, I stumble upon Edvard Munch and absorb. Anxiety, love, death. The flowing figures restricted in brush strokes and paint, but free in immortality and fame, beguile me with their drooping, hooded eyes, until I can hear their delineated tongues like a choir.
Time to stop procrastinating, start prognosticating.

There is absolutely no doubt about it. The signs are clearer than a pool of melted diamonds. But no-one believes a person without a PHD in theology and a 2 foot beard.
The world is ending.
I tried to warn them again today, but they can’t see past insanity when they look at me; I seem to scream it in wild eyes, or perhaps the scent of crazy is leaking from my pores. Dark shadows around my eyes no extortionate amount of sleep or light could chase away. Once – before I’d gotten used to the insomnia – I took the razor to my head and freed the languid hairs; cleansing my own microcosmical globe of all irrelevant past discretions and pollutants. The human body usually purges the blood of most chemicals within 78 hours, but hair retains traces forever that will find you; bite you in the back. However, I still can’t sleep even though I should now be pure as a newborn baby and the chaos theory is thus disproved, and my ingenious-at-4am idea does nothing but further isolate me from any kind of credibility.
The world is still ending.
I can feel it in my bones, and taste it in my sweat. I may appear to be crazy, but under the surface I am still and so, so sane. The galactic metamorphism begins. A new seventh sense stirs within me. It takes a while to adjust but now I can see into the souls of anyone and everyone; I see their sins and their destinations. I can leave the house now, self–assured with a new burst of determination, laughing at all the five-sensed ****** without a clue. I will be the only one making the most of my final days. I walk along the pier, buy a six dollar ice-cream, and fill my hours with watching others. No-one stares anymore as if I am slowly fading into translucency. Those with evil deep-rooted are black, like coals waiting for a spark, any excuse to catalyse destruction and pain. ******, Stalin. Even without my monotone-rainbow sense it can be identified in the coldness of their pupils; their glassy exteriors. They will turn to the coal they are inside, literally, fuel hell and wish they’d listened to my warnings. The heroes of the world are white, pure white, but there aren’t very many of them. Most people are a ***** shade of grey. In between and undecided; neither here nor there. Purgatory. I am green, because I am sick. No-one cares where I’m going. I don’t care.
There isn’t long left now.
With life in black and white the sky becomes awash with colour. Shepherd’s delight tonight, and what a perfect night to die. The clouds are pink, painted coarsely over a glowing red azure sky. It makes sense to me. Finally, I am not alien, I am not in the dark, confused, alone. Instead, it is everyone else without foresight. They are isolated together, and I am solitarily integrated. I am told to go back to the pier, say goodbye, and watch the world literally, actually, flash by my eyes. It’s my gift, my reward for my broken brain; I am at the theatre and the only one with dramatic empathy for the characters led by convention. I float down the pier, and now I know I’m not mad. The sky pulsates, angry, vengeful. Particles expand, shrink, and re-inflate.  I can’t help but laugh at the beautiful hopelessness, and the ultimate despair. A song of delight, true, genuine, hilarity explodes out of me and spills into the thickening atmosphere. Two blacks, glare with their telescopic eyes, old me would’ve ran, hidden, driven by fear, but for the first time ever, all humankind is equal. Money and power, the drivers of society are null. Soon I know the men will turn to ash and blow away.
Mid-laugh, the sea swells, becomes beast, and swallows us whole.
kirk Dec 2017
I don't know why football has been dubbed the beautiful game
Who the hell has named it that who the ***** to blame
When I think of something beautiful football is not what I would claim
Wearing their stupid football kits there ugly in my frame
Every boring football game to me looks the ******* same
A bunch of guys in a field looking for a piece of fame
The exorbitant amount cash their paid is why they really came
Trying to impress the wags or bag themselves a dame
If your a fan that's up to you but please would you be tame
Don't be a ******* hooligan forget the opposition maim

Drinking to excess before the match well that is just pathetic
If you have to go to the game why go drunk and paralytic
Is hours of getting tanked up automatic or is it cybernetic
It's hardly surprising your personality isn't charismatic or magnetic
Don't act like a ******* ***** don't be so synthetic
Are they trained to be wankers or is it just genetic
What's beautiful about the drunkenness we're not so sympathetic
Football kits are not day wear or a fashionable cosmetic
Why waste your time and energy when your ****** and energetic
Endorsing violence with cops and fans justice is not poetic

What's the point of the police force when real crime is on latch
All the cops are wasting time trying to bust the football batch
If football matches are that bad then close the ******* hatch
And for a change why don't the cops protect a different patch
We don't want police on horseback or on motorway dispatch
Is it easier to stop coaches cos it's criminals they can catch
Ban all the ******* hooligans enforce a ticket ******
Revoke their rights to seasoned games with a stadium detach
What about the real crime, coppers don't make a scratch
Why should my taxes go to the cops to patrol the match

What's beautiful about Hillsborough when there's no safe place to hide
The disaster of 96 football fans they all got crushed and died
Where was the protection of the innocent when the gates where open wide
There's nothing beautiful about never walking alone when no ones by your side
Riots break out in stadiums when the football fans collide
328 deaths at Estadio Nacional that's their beauty set aside
What's beautiful about Bradford city 56 fans burned and fried
Is it really all worth dying for to protect your personal pride
How many people have died due to this game this isn't in the guide
How many more disasters, what will it take to turn the tide

Football is not the beautiful game with all the tragedies and rage
Football players should not be awarded such an extortionate wage
Getting paid a huge amount just to play one season
Why are they paid so much what is the ******* reason
Bending it like Beckham does that mean that he his gay
As he is married to Victoria he could have turned that way
The word cups 10 million dollar price tag its shamefully unlawful
Does the FA in the FA cup stand for ******* awful
All the death and disasters its an ugly truth and fact
The hooliganism and violence, well there's nothing beautiful about that
The long and winding road.   (3)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The long and winding road.
Hostels are few and far between out here
Except for those beat up Winnerbagos.

Like as not those are all crack cook shops
Oh yes I can see the steam from their chimney
Narcotisation of a whole generation my my.
Gods grace always kept me clear of all that.

And a good thing too. This Life is hard ‘nough
Now I really must find a place to sleep.
Dusk is falling and I have a modern map

We just need a couple o’clicks to get to a place
I can see it in the distance neon lights flashing
Now I needed a little luck and this I guess it is.
Diesel and leaded gas. Three $ a litre. Oh God
I have never had to pay that much ever before
No  well. Beggars can’t be choosers can they?
Goodness not on this long and winding road

Ribs gravy , maple syrup , and fresh pancakes
Only room available is an extortionate $200
Anyway. I must rest still five hundred miles ...
Daddy hears you Baby. I’m still on my way. !!!  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip
November 8th 2018.
Episode (3)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.
Acrostic road trip to recur daughter
Big Virge Sep 2020
Ya Know I’d...
Rather See... " CALM "...
Than ALL THIS ALARM... !!!!

MORE Welcoming Arms...
LESS Guns In Young Palms...

The Use of ******...
Has Left MANY HARMED... !!!

New Orleans Has Now...
Got Bodies To Farm...

THAT Line Deserves PSALMS...
Cos' Those Who Have DIED...
Have LOST Lucky Charms... !!!

But Hopefully Now...
Are RESTFUL And CALM...

NO NEED For Gendarmes...
Or... Government YARNS...

NO NEED Now For Money...
Or... EXPENSIVE Garms'...

See These Are The Things...
We NEED To............... DISMISS.....

Luxuries Leading To Peoples Killings... !!!
How Can We Expect To Serve and Protect...
When People AREN'T HAPPY...
Because of Their DEBTS... !!!!!

Most People Are FRIGHTENED...
To... Write Out A Cheque...

Cos' If You’re In The Red...
The Bank Then COLLECTS... !!!!!!

EXTORTIONATE Charges...
Leave People... UPSET... !!!

People AREN'T CALM...
Because They Are VEX... !!!

Why Use Direct Debit... ?!?
Or Have Cards For Credit... ?!?

I’d Rather Have Dinner...
With... Old Norman Tebbit’... !!!

Of Course That’s NOT True... !!!
Cos' He WASN'T Cool...
With Black Guys Like Me...
With... Differing Views... !!!

Views That AREN'T Clouded...
By... BIASED Reviews... !!!

Reviews That We See...
In... EVERYDAY News...

DON’T Get It Confused... !!!!!

I USE News Reviews...
To RAISE THE PROFILE...
of... CERTAIN Issues... !!!

I’ve Said It Before...
... I’ll Say It AGAIN... !!!

Your Everyday News...
Is NOT Always TRUE... !!!

But Certain Things CLEARLY...
Require... NO CLUES...
Like... MURDEROUS Acts...
Or RACIST Attacks... !!!

Just Like The Ones...
Where Those FOOLS...
Used An... AXE... !!!
I’m SAD About That...
But THIS Is A FACT... !!!

It’s HARD To Stay Calm...
If You’re A Young Black... !!!

But Blacks NEEDS To Learn...
To... Make The Worm Turn... !!!
Some White People CLEARLY...

Are Keen To Discern...
What It Is They Can Do...
To LIGHTEN Our Mood...

So DON'T Think That We...
Can Ever Be... FREE...
WITHOUT Showing LOVE...

Well You May Not Agree...
But CALMNESS Is KEY...
As Is... UNITY... !!!!!

Take That Advice...
PLEASE Have It ON ME... !!!

PEACE Is The Answer...
As Is A GOOD KARMA... !!!

EVEN With Your Woman...
She LOVES When You CHARM Her... !!!

A SMILE And A Grin...
Is Where This Begins...

We Need To STAY CALM...
When With Our Women... !!!

It’s NOT Always EASY...
But Who Said It Was... ?!?

It’s Kinda Like Finding...
The... " Wizard of Oz’ "... !?!

It Lies DEEP WITHIN...
NOT IN Books of Hymns... !!!

These Days I’m Inclined...
To... Channel My Mind...
To... LOVING Mankind...
Rather Than Walk...
In The Land of The Blind... !!!

Cos' Walking With Them...
Means You Walk A Fine Line... !!!!

A Line WITHOUT Calm...
And Glasses of Wine...  

A Line Where You’ll Find...
Yourself TRAPPED In A BIND... !!!

A BIND Where Your TRAPPED...
Behind... ENEMY Lines... !!!

So Who Are Your Friends... ???
They... May Be Your End... ?!?
Friendships Aren’t Meant...
To... FUEL ARGUMENTS... !!!

A TRUE FRIEND Is Someone...
Who Is... HEAVEN Sent... !!!

But How Many of Them...
Do We... REALLY Have... ???

When Young I Was Told...
To... Look In Your Hand...
Your Fingers And Thumb...
When Added Make FIVE...

You’ll Be LUCKY To Have...
Five TRUE FRIENDS In Your LIFE... !!!!!

It Seemed So Contrived...
To Be...  So PRECISE... !!!!!!
But Now That I’m Older...
It Seems To Be RIGHT... !!!

People Will... " Tell You "...
That They Are... " Your Friend "...
But When You're In TROUBLE...
... How Many of Them... ?!?

Will Make A Case For You...
And Build Your DEFENCE... ?!?

This ISN'T The Way...
I Want This To End ... !!!

So Let Me Do This...
With Words That Transcend...

We NEED LESS Alarm...
We NEED To Link Arms...
We NEED... UNITY...

And This... I Believe...

Will Bring....

..... " Calm ".....
LISTEN HERE : Taken from the, " On The Virge ", album.
https://soundcloud.com/user-16569179/calm-2
Ben Jones May 2019
A legendary sweet tooth, had Lady Felicity Barratt
So swift towards the sugar bowl, so wary of the carrot
She dined on only trifle from a honey coated spoon
But tooth decay accosted her and left her in a swoon

By the time she turned just twenty, her two front teeth were gone
By thirty she was running short and on her final one
When that fell out, she sought a dentist, promptly one arrived
She opened up her grizzly mouth and in the fella dived

He took a cast and took his leave with dentures to be hewn
With satisfaction guaranteed by Friday afternoon
And never did the lady have a reason to suspect
The secret intervention of an evil dental sect

By bribing several bakeries and sweetie shops and stalls
A dossier had been compiled within their sacred halls
For crimes against good dentistry were nothing short of sin
Their retribution must be swift or people might join in

They cast her teeth from coffin nails beneath a devil's moon
With Jack the Ripper's upper set, extracted from his tomb
Then polished with the handkerchief of ******'s former cleaner
Stored in Machiavelli's purse, to make them all the meaner

Upon that self same Friday, at the very cusp of noon
One Doctor Bingo Rogers and his burly hired goon
Came knocking at her premises with dental kit and drills
With a mission to sedate her and to exercise their skills

They knocked her out with ethanol and chloroform and air
And strapped her to a hastily erected dentist's chair
The evil teeth were lodged in place and ******* into her gums
The bill was quite extortionate, for monumental sums

The shamanic orthodontist, with his henchman in his wake
A martyr to the vegetable and nemesis of cake
Was keen to see his handiwork and kept a watchful eye
For curious occurrences, as days went slowly by

By Christmas there was nothing, until on New Year's Eve
Her teeth got uncooperative and forced the girl to leave
They dragged her by her dainty face and led her to the shops
She stood and munched on sugar canes and giant lollipops

They stuffed her face with chocolates, still nestled in their packets
And then a rack of nylon shirts and seven leather jackets
On every size of shoe, she munched; from sixes up to twelves
She nibbled through the party food and gnawed upon the shelves

Then off she sped, into the street, to pursue a passing horse
Dragged along by wicked teeth and supernatural force
But dentures lack in vision, and especially at pace
So when she caught it by the foot she caught it in the face

She skidded to a grizzly halt with arms and legs all twisted
And next to her, a note with all her dental errors listed
So beware the wrath of dentists and obey when they command
And sleep with one eye open and a carrot close to hand

For though our poor Felicity was buried good and hard
Despite floral cupcake with the Dental Cult's regard
And though her body, to this day, lies safely in the ground
The horse escaped that evening and the teeth were never found...
kirk Nov 2020
For God sake Mr Johnson, we can't take this anymore
It's seems you cannot help yourself, when it concerns the law
Do you intend to keep us all, behind our own front door ?
What happens if there's no vaccine, and we don't find a cure ?

People are still people, and this is no way to live
Local lockdowns just don't work, but more are still forthwith !
The killing of our livelihoods, is what we can't forgive
I believe the official stats, are nothing but a myth

It's all to do with keeping tabs, and global mass control
Restrictions on humanity, seems to be your outward goal
Don't go out and socialise, we no longer have the sole
Freedom of the beating heart, is what authority's have stole

Forced closers of our industry's, well it's just a bitter pill
Intentions are not honourable, when you don't foot the bill
Your decisions make us victims, and we've all had our fill
Months of being grinded down, mangled through an endless mill

There's billions of people, and we've had the rule of six !
But it's okay for governments, when they all want to mix !
Stop throwing mouldy carrots, then hitting us with sticks
Your not immune just because, you've had your Weetabix

What's the point in guidelines, even when you have complied
The cases are still rising, and people have still died
You don't lead by example, because you have no sense of pride
But we get fined and chastised, if none of us abide !

Your promises are always false, your nothing but a fraud
Most of us did what you asked, and this is our reward
Little progress has been made, still nothing has been scored
I'd expect a dire outcome, If you live by the sword

Football matches are exempt, from all the rules you set
Increasing numbers seem okay, when they gather round the net
Anything attached to sports, are not part of the bet
Disbanding and a standard fine, is what they deserve to get ?

Personally I don't much care, if your in a group or crowd
Stand up for your human rights, and do it loud and proud
The only issue that I have, is I am not allowed
Promises are meaningless, when none of them are vowed

So there are groups of people, why don't you leave them be
Major crimes are being ignored, and none of us are free !
We don't want overzealous cops, placing necks under their knee
I can't condone excessive fines, when it's such a hefty fee

The media is littered, but it's us that pay the price
If we don't adhere to stupid rules, or follow your advice
They almost alter daily, so how can they be precise ?
Is every course of action, a random number on a dice ?

You seem to have an insight, perhaps your drinking from the keg ?
Or you have a secret bloodline, and your mother's Mystic Meg  ?
Are you psychic or clairvoyant, is Nostrodamus old Nick Clegg !
Stop rubbing on your magic lamp, and abusing the prime peg

How do you know future, because you always have a date
Specific times for hair brain schemes, but you are much too late
We should have acted sooner, and closed our borders gate
Instead of ever changing laws, and creating a police state

It's a wonder there aren't storm troopers, barb wire nailed to the wall
Steel bars attached to our windows, iron maidens in the hall
Camera's installed in every room, Big Brother's now on call
Problems caused by men like you, the biggest threat of all

We're sick of being prisoners, and treated like we're fools
And Boris changing policies, with the constant change of rules
First you can and then you can't, with restaurants, pubs and pools
You don't mind the university's, or the students risk in schools !

It's arrogance that makes you think, your choices are correct
The reality of your actions, well it's simply pure neglect
You never really had a clue, but it's what I would expect
Society has been damaged, so you don't have my respect

Your half arsed decisions, why are they so on trend ?
They've hardly been effective, they just drive us round the bend
I'd rather have the holocaust, at least it had an end
A regime based on fascism, is the wrong message to send

Take a look at number ten, why was you even hired ?
You've had a taste of power, now your no longer required
Drawn and quartered hanging high, and then you should be fired
So get down from your high horse, cos even they get tired

You should retire from office, because you are far too keen
Give somebody else the chance, who isn't half as mean
Spend your time brown trousering, while bumming England's Queen
He wants to be elected, cast your votes for Mr Bean

Innocent pawns are sacrificed, but you don't take the blame
We're just the broken chess pieces. from a long discarded game
Sadistic orders are dished out, it's always been the same
Your more threatening then Corona, and you relish the acclaim

Liberty has been destroyed, now we're laid beneath the drapes
The iron curtain has returned, so has more sour grapes
Walking on smashed eggshells, watching every step we traipse
It looks like we're getting closer, to the Planet of the Apes

Petri dishes are unleashed, we've been thrown under the wheel
Your worse than the pandemic, because you have far less appeal
The ******* dictators, they just love to hear you squeal
Why should people waste their life, waiting for the world to heal ?

Heart attacks and lung transplants, are still on the doctors list
But ever since this came along, they hardly now exist
You've lost your cancer patients, now their slipping through the mist
Other ailments pushed aside, that's why we shake our fist

Where are the infected, and where are all the dead ?
Statistically it don't add up, I'm not taking it as red
Isn't there supposed to be, this huge big massive spread ?
You may as well ask a horse, The famous Mr Ed

It's a never ending cycle, and this could go on for years
The evidence of scientists, some advice falls on deaf ears
We can't be very sociable, we're a country split with fears
Pandemics shaped like wedding cakes, will always end in tiers

We've followed guidelines from the start, but progress has been none
Situations are now worse, so what good has it done ?
Forget the shackles and restraints, don't hide away or run
Yellow bellies face your fears, that's how the west was won

Come on now it's gone to far, so please give it a rest
We're basically the fall guys, cos we're under house arrest
Something's wrong with mental health, and you should take a test
Nurse Ratchet would be welcoming, if you flew the cuckoo's nest

What goes on in tiny minds, your thoughts are quite unjust
You're very good at ridicule, but much better at mistrust
Leisure and small businesses, are breads burnt at the crust
Perhaps you will be satisfied, when this planet's turned to dust !

Your no different to Napoleon, a claw that always grips
And you sound like Adolf ******, with dictation on your lips
Is Joseph Starling someone else, you acquire some of your tips ?
To toe the line you could use chains, and braided leather whips

We've tried anti social distancing, and masks upon our face
Kept away from people, and gave them their own space
Thousands have been wasted, on the worthless test and trace
It's criminal what you have done, against the human race

You dare to index people, and place numbers on their back
Or filed away and categorised, just to keep us all on track
It's the simple minds of pettiness, and IQ's that you all lack
There's talk of herd immunity, but not every sheep is black

All of these new amendments, are made up by useless jerks
High wages paid for scare tactics, to stupid little Berks
It isn't really guaranteed, that any of it works
Their only interest seems to be, the money and the perks

Propaganda is your standard, for that you are renown
Your only answer seems to be, is everyone lock down
Our lives are left in ruins, while your watching us all drown
We'd be better off with Roland Rat, and not Coco the Clown

Never mind Covid nineteen, because you have caused more harm
You have us clutched and running scared, inside your smarmy palm
Creating thoughts of suicide, is the smug side of your charm
It's too late to make amends, once you have chanced your arm

There's no consoling anyone, there's no shaking of the hand
Other households cannot mix, and all our friends are banned
Are your heads are up your assess, or buried in the sand
It's big fat cats and bureaucrats, who's threatening our land

We're sorry Mrs Thatcher, if you came back I'd be glad
You wouldn't try and lock us up, or treat everyone so bad
They said Rasputin was insane, and the Impaler known as Vlad
Perhaps their methods were extreme, but at least there iron clad

I've never known a virus, that knows the time of day
Curfews set at ten o'clock, watch out it's on the way
Lurking in the hedgerows, while it's stalking late night pray
Time itself makes no difference, to keep the bugs at bay

It knows your pigmentation, it knows your young or old
The difference between day and night, and if it's hot or cold
We've found a superior life form, put the printing press on hold
Downing Street has met it's match, because it's you who's being controlled

World leaders should now move aside, Trump, Johnson and Farage !
Your days are up, you've lost control, Corona's now in charge
It's telling you where not to go, and spreading like soft marge
The ancient mariner beckons you, to step onto his barge

So you've had the virus, well take a run and jump
No one cares about your hide, your just a worthless lump
You have less intelligence, than a forest full of gump
Why don't you just ****** off, we don't want you Donald Trump

Similarities with the PM, is Boris a clone or twin ?
Perhaps your a strange experiment, removed from a surgeons bin ?
You don't get votes for sympathy, by infecting next of kin
Extortionate hair is pointless, when it still looks fake and thin

Economy's have suffered, but I don't think that you care
What justifies seventy grand, spent on your stupid hair ?
Average citizens pay their tolls, raw deals are never fair
Why should we all cower down, just to breath in toxic air ?

You could've spent two fifty, whole grain would work a treat
Thirty biscuit's in one box, is value you can't beat
It would be ten days supply, cos three would look quite neat
All those taxes would be saved, if you used shredded wheat

Who's bothered about your progress, our phones have been infiltrated
Text messages are unauthorised, about someone who's not rated
Come on now and get real, your policies outdated
And that's because your past your prime, and crossly antiquated

Situations you don't grasp, for you they're out of reach
Like the idea of a syringe, full of domestic bleach
You can try your own vaccine, and practice what you preach
And spare us all from irony, and another ******* speech

Don't ever lose at poker, because times are getting hard
It could result in the U.S, playing their Trump card !
You wouldn't want old Donald, or Boris in your yard
So raise up your defences, and don't ever drop your guard

Isolation is not natural, it's like two peas in a pod
Vicious nets of pure deceit, captured in a school of cod
You have the same complexes, cos you both think you are god
But you are just the didymen, and modelled like Ken Dodd

I simply have no interest, in the updates on the news
Or agendas on scare mongering, or any of your views
The headlines in the papers, should be hung in loos to use
Why don't you go and swivel, on two splintered snooker cues

All shops are essential, and no business should be shut
No forcing pubs to close there doors, no wages to be cut
Stop acting like a ******, and being King Tut's **** !
I never knew a double act, created Fruit and Nut

Where was you both created, do you share half a brain ?
You and Boris cause us all, an extreme amount of pain
Lightning surely does strike twice, we hope it never strikes again
It's the nonsense thoughts and policies, of the criminally insane
Well what can I say, this whole thing started in the beginning of October approximately one month ago when my mother received unauthorised notifications on her mobile phone about Donald Trumps progress after contracting the virus.
At the time I wrote a few lines about our Donald and it was intended to be a short poem solely about him of just 4 stanzas.
However as I began to write and situations were forever changing I found myself having other thoughts on other subjects.
Over the past month it was a bit longer than I had planned and I told myself I would stop at 15 verses or stanzas this simply did not happen as it soon went over the intended number.
This happened a few times from 25 to 35 to 42 and finally 50 and even though I had a few more ideas I decided to stop at this point.
This is just some of my own opinions and views and if they are not yours then that's fine neither of us are wrong and neither of us are right its just one individual viewpoint. if you do agree with some of it them that's fine too and I thank you for your time and for reading. lets hope our current situation eases soon for all our sakes
'All the mod cons' they say, as if a few appliances
make up for an extortionate cage.

Despite my loathsome tech salary
I struggle to find a place
I could live out

a healthy and dignified existence
from in our capital city.
All the modern conveniences,
None of the comforts of the past.
Two years,
but will we make it to three?
   Pimple a stipple of red paint
   on my chin,
mouth scarred pink with the last deposits
of lipstick.
   I am making an effort
   for myself, then himself.
He has booked it all,
a mildly impressive stat. A restaurant
   where a bottle of ooh-la-la French wine,
   sweating its chill, costs both arm and leg,
where meals take up a sixteenth
of the plate, christened with a garden leaf.
   I do not speak of my concerns.
   His face is awash with tiredness,
his eyes somehow a darker sea-blue
than our first meeting, several iPhones ago.
   Our speech is exhalation brief,
   each syllable like a book
falling in an empty library,
everything written, little said.
   The wine dyes my inner cheeks,
   but the food: Greek salad, crescent moon tomatoes,
vinyl cucumbers, feta cheese slabs
and tang of onion burning back of the mouth.
   His, souvlaki, fish cadaver on the side,
   wine also white, extortionate, though I haven’t paid.
I look at him, assuming this is our last meal.
If I tell the sea, will she wash it away?
   How lovely he is. Really, I mean it.
   He must believe we are forever and ever.
I count the mouthfuls, the tiles on the floor.
His chair squeals when he leaves for the loo.
Written: 2018/19.
Explanation: A poem that was part of my MFA Creative Writing manuscript, in which I wrote poems about cities that have staged the Eurovision Song Contest, or taken the name of a song and written my own piece inspired by the title. I have received a mark for this body of work now, so am sharing the poems here.

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