"nhs" poems
The head fuckery of societies rules.
The indoctrination in our schools
has led to the homeless on our streets while politicians count their seats.
The privileged few, too rich to mention
fail to reveal their true intention.
The NHS setup to break by psychopaths all on the take.
Big business stripped of all its gold,
no pension funds left for the old.
Big pharma, they don't miss a trick,
they're making you & I feel sick.
They push the pills that ring the tills
even though they know it kills.
With the best advice and greatest will
our kids are on **** & fentanyl.
While we're divided black & white,
we'd never stand up to their might
So take your neighbour, hold their hand and together we'll reclaim our land.
Poetry by Kaydee.
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 11:36 PM UTC
Id love a big fat ****
Or a wrinkled up old bag
An ugly looking hag
Who wants a ******* ****
If I had a big fat ***** with a big fat bucket
I'd lay between her fleshy thighs, and definitely **** it
My thrusting **** inside her **** is where I'd like to tuck it
Spunking up would be sublime, when I lick and **** it
When your about to **** the fat, it takes a certain knack
Stuffed up fishy **** ***** or **** ******* round the back
A nice piece of chunky **** with a big long sweaty crack
Fatty *** holes make you hard ,my **** would not be slack
I would ride a big large Gal, just like a waterbed
Bathroom ******* would be fun, as well as in the shed
Spunking up between her legs, cream cheese would then be spread
When both holes are full of *** she can **** my **** instead
And after I have finished, with all of those fat *******
Something different I would want, maybe some old wrinkled witches
All wearing apple gatherers, and big large ******* britches
Older ***** long overdue, scratching long lost itches
A lot of fun I could have, in an old folks place
Disrobed willing grannies ***** stuffed right in my face
At least eight bits of gristle ****** a display of my disgrace
With each granny ****** in turn, if they can stand the pace
As I lift their skirts up their knickers I would sniff
I'm hoping that old fannies good, and they don't smell or whiff
The smell of old used granny **** is probably just a myth
But I won't let it bother me, as long as I get stiff
I wouldn't even care, if they wore crap NHS glasses
As long as I could **** and *** inside there wrinkled arses
I would **** them old ****** , all from different classes
Some of them in wheelchairs and some with heart bypasses.
It's irrelevant how fat you are, I really do not mind
As long as you are willing, and your pussy's wet and kind
And if you like it up the **** then I'm that way inclined
******* ***** is quite fine, so is ******** from behind
So come on girls fat or old, all slags are a possibility
Your sexuality can flood out, there's no need for negativity
I'm willing to **** who comes along, to the best of my ability
Just make sure that I stay stiff, and maintain my agility
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 5:44 AM UTC
Depression, is a concession of unstable chemicals made from the memories of cruel intentions,
My life is still here plodding along..
But only I hear the sound of my own thoughts like an annoying repetitive song.
I hear that little voice, calm down it says! stop filling your stupid head,
with anxiety a lack of self motivation and such a thing as recreation, only self interrogation and constant ************
I think of ways of ending it.. A rope around my neck?... or a cocktail of prescribed drugs?
I try to find help but no one is willing or the nhs has started billing,
I blame society and the burning of the bras,
things were simpler with our evolutionary past.
Nothing is moving I am stuck,
I feel useless and out of so called ambitious luck.
My patience is wearing and poignant preparations, is it really that necessary?
I just can't be fckd!
Move on, try again and again.
Run away!...
But financially there is no escape!
The cruel beatings,
the childhood ruined by my selfish relatives and a man I fell pregnant with.
Take away the memories..
please take them away before I cry the tears from the river of blood and pain.
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
We are a global society
When we want oranges in the fruit bowl,
When we want out of our rut
Just long enough
To brown in a patch of Spanish sun.
We are a global society
When the Japanese car breaks down
And we are in need of a cheap fix
To keep food on the table,
Some Latvian mechanic
Who helps us find our way home.
We are our own nation,
An island nation,
When the zeroes run low
And there are spaces,
Foreign faces,
To which we can point
And blame.
We are a global society
With our sweat-shop chic,
American coffee chains
Selling Colombian ground beans,
Frappuccinos in plastic cups-
Made in China
And served by a Romanian barista
In Italian heels.
We are a global society
When the demand is high
And the payment is low.
We are our own nation,
An island nation,
When hands reach out for help
And our pockets are too shallow,
Our time, too brief
To commit to a unity
We feel is dragging us down.
We are a global society
When the football is on,
When the lager is Belgian
And the supermodel, Greek.
When we cradle that bag of Cheetos
After smoking too much ****
We are a global society
When oppression is overt,
Caricatured in bulletin posters,
Threatening to land
Upon our own front door.
We are our own nation,
An island nation,
When poverty seems contagious,
When we have to clean up
Someone else’s mess,
Still we scar the Middle East
Only half-interested in an exit.
We are a global society
When we get sick,
When we borrow another doctor
For our ailing NHS.
When cities of white people burn,
We are a global society,
When Africa is divided,
We are nowhere to be seen.
Prime mover of the commonwealth
Yet we fall beneath the breadline
And living easy is so rare.
We are our own nation,
An island nation,
Under the false flag
Of a golden age
We were conned to believe in.
Our nation, our island nation,
Lost amongst a sea of misinformation.
Jun 25, 2016
Jun 25, 2016 at 6:50 PM UTC
A bee with innards spilling
A lost tabby,
A blimp caught up in trees,
Tintern Abbey.
The gravestone of a lover,
A drowning ship,
An NHS delivery of
Fortisip.
A girl with alopecia and
Fungail nails,
A one legged pigeon,
Exploding whales.
Ivy choked churches,
Merlot tongues,
Parrots plucking feathers,
Marlboro lungs.
Girls locked up in attics,
*** toys.
Boys punching girls
And punching boys.
Babies crowning
Fussed about like kings.
Darlings,
You shall see such pretty things.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
“My sole goal in life is to keep racing
down the interstate without a clock
so I can keep going until people forget who I am.”
In my head I knew I was wrong
hypocritical, insane, illogical, but above all I was still
humane!
This, yes, this sole fact is what keeps me
separated from you
draw a straight line down the road we lived on
the squares and the circles.
You, with your fancy plaque and NHS bumper sticker
With the family of four and no reason to feel failure
With your perfect scores and magnificent vernacular
Who let you have it so easy?!
Me, with my Jimi Hendrix poster
family of who knows how many
and the chance to earn my GED in a few years
Why was it me?!
You met your wife in the 10th grade
You gave her a promise ring and everything
Even took her with you on spring break
Who said you didn't have to try?!
I was placed in the wards that year
they said it was insanity
I thought I was just thinking ahead
Why can’t they understand?!
BUT THEY ALWAYS UNDERSTAND YOU!
You, your Shakespeare perfect jargon
Mr. Right, Perfect, next coming of Beethoven
You were made to please everyone and become important!
And that’s what separates us.
Even though it’s the same street that raised us
I bought the Harley and your parents got you the Chevy.
And I recall the one time I was flying down the interstate
And caught up to you as you were going nothing higher than 70.
I stared at you and you kept your eyes on the road.
I don’t blame you, I knew that you just wanted to see my bomber jacket
I have a skull on fire on the back of it
So I gave you a great view
hope you enjoyed it.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 1:40 AM UTC
youve monopolised our lives
and get it wrong at every turn
we are born into one of your hoshitholes
destined to die in the same hole
some day
under your care
no other option
but to put our lives in the hands of incompetents
NHS doctors
NHS doctrine
NHS business models built upon sugar pill suckers
cant afford bedpans
funds low
i feel my pain
i havent got the *** to **** in or the mercedes benz to sustain
my sympathy ended the same way your empathy did
in your apathy
like my life will one day soon
under you care
Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 3:38 PM UTC
If you've not done it then you are a liar too
The luxury of the able-bodied to have a sneaky little poo
Look left, look right, there's nobody about
A peaceful time for what's needed now
A better handwash and a cleaner surround,
from the ceiling to extractor fan
Even onto the white grout
I'm not one to judge as I'd been there before
From a night in Yates's where they want your key to sniff coke
These private, uncompromising rooms have a life of their own, with stories I will not joke
The people of most Wetherspoons have a disabled key they use on a daily basis
Nothing wrong with them all, the odd one with a genuine NHS bracelet,
I tell you now, you really do start to hate it
But it is nice to be away from the majority of the public in a life I did not choose
Occupied, red dial turned, out come a pair of girls mostly half drunk, always together as a two
That is probably why it gets me down, a daily occurrence,
it affects us all,
These,
Disabled bog blues
JJB
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 3:19 PM UTC
They don't speak, all the long,
winding bus journey. They are
strangers, with nothing in common
besides the No 50 route
and the free travel passes
afforded to them on account
of their quietly advancing years.
She sits in the seat in front of him.
Their eyes never lock. His myopic
gaze through thick NHS lenses
rests neutral on the back of her head,
her softly blue-rinsed curls and the collar
of an eminently sensible overcoat.
They sit, both silent, as
- outside the foggy bus windows -
winter has one last chew on
time's bony old carcass.
She has a slight stoop which
she's doing her best to hide, and his
shaking hands make his liver spots blur.
They stand - the bus stopping at their
mutual destination - shuffling sideways
into the aisle, and something
unexpected
happens.
The bus jolts suddenly forwards,
then lurches to a startled halt,
and she falls backwards
into his arms
and he
catches her.
For a second,
strange gravities assume control.
There's a moment,
governed by different laws of
physics and chemistry
and half-forgotten, half-remembered biology.
She flushes, infused with something
warm and thirst-whettingly girlish, and he
surges with a newfound potency,
standing taller, the woman he's supporting
somehow lessening the burden of his age.
Her spine straightens, and
she laughs. His face, smiling, youthens.
His hands hold her unstooped shoulders and
don't tremble.
Sun breaks through cloud outside the window.
They remember it's spring out there somewhere.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 10:45 AM UTC
In Waterstones
Sighing at the bestsellers
opaque at the corner of my right
eye two ladies late in life
are centre stage amid the table
paperbacks.
“Are you following me?” the taller bellows
brimmed headscarf towering over her NHS bespectacled
sister of afternoons and shopping mornings
continuing a conversation that has obviously
followed them their entire friendship
seeming the matriarch of the pair, she is circumspect
in her contrariness.
Whatever entitles her to this
Guardianship of self-importance
Her being a lighthouse rising above the mists
condensing off beaten shards of rock
is subdued by her companions’ pithy response
“no-you know I have no interest in Autobiographies.”
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 7:18 AM UTC
In little over two years
I have had more scans
Than a supermarket checkout
There is more of my blood in path labs
Than I have in my body
I've had nasty painful biopsies
Things up my **** and cameras down my neck
There have been countless appointments
At four different hospitals
As well as being hospitalised five times
Including one minor operation
And two major ones
I now have ******* up kidneys
Veins like ropes and arms like Twiglets
And more scars
Than a bad knife-throwers assistant
But what the hell !
I'm still growing old disgracefully
HA !!
By Phil Roberts
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 4:41 AM UTC
Since I became paralysed I've lost the will to use it
My instinct, my never say never, my last minute don't give a ****
now just a gurgle in a draining sink
I'd say to the wife, let's stay here, book a room, a night of passion,
not a care in the drop of a beat
Now I must pre-book, distinctly decide,
accessible doors and not to forget the supps, the **** and an inco sheet
The cage maybe open but the beast is still asleep,
only awoken by a blue pill for the night
A reliance now dependant on who signs the scribble,
paid for by the NHS and who's not feeling to tight
Are there steps and is it really going to be worth it
the struggle, the helping out and sometimes feeling like a useless ***
OK, so its not really that bad
I just emphasis the crap points that sometimes make me sad
But its a new way of life you really had better believe
to have back what I had before, yes I often do grieve
but there is no going back as it is what it is
keep your head up,
keep your heart strong and try and regain that lost fizz
JJB
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 8:48 AM UTC
A two two tier system of health is established
now you are asked private or NHS.
This could determine who lives or dies
relying on those with funds.
The quality of treatment depends on paying
if none your only hope is praying!
NHS patients it's a lucky dip for treatment
private no expense spared.
No matter how dedicated the doctors maybe
money is the pass code.
Pay avoid the endless hours on a waiting trolley
instant service if flash the lolly!
No more the fare care for all who enter within
moral has long been exhausted.
By the excessive dabbling of many governments
where no parliamentarian is poor.
And had no knowledge of the staffs dedication
now wanting their eradication!
With an amazing crew who were not listened to
or giving them back up or respect!
The health service now in the United kingdom
is doomed to be for the rich!
The rest of us will wait forever for care
that no longer can be there!
Once the worlds flagship for health care
now the example to be aware!
The Foureyed Poet.
Nov 2, 2011
Nov 2, 2011 at 10:40 PM UTC
Vote Corbyn,
Let's make him win,
He's the man for the job,
We don't want the Tory snob
To sell off our NHS, she's not fit to negotiate any deal for Brexit,
We need her to exit
Number ten,
She's lying again,
Corbyn has planned the budget for the labour manifesto,
Yet on this, May is still being slow,
She says she's strong and stable,
Yet we are able
To see she's actually weak and wobbly,
The opposite of what she claims to be,
She wasn't going to call a snap election,
Again she's gone in the opposite direction,
Corbyn wants to make a brighter future for all,
He doesn't want any of us to fall,
He cares for the homeless, he wants to abolish tuition fees,
This is what our country needs,
He's a terrorist sympathiser I hear you say,
Yet for May to sell weapons to Saudi is perfectly okay?
He's explained himself and answered all questions given,
He's a man who is very driven,
She's Tory through and through,
For the elite and few,
She's all for bringing back the barbaric act, she likes to fox hunt,
I, alongside many others, think she's a ****
Corbyn is down to earth, a friendly man,
Many say they don't think he can
Run this country too well,
I think I'd rather have him do his best than be in a land of Tory hell,
He'll do us well,
He'll do us proud,
I'm a Corbyn supporter
And I'll shout it loud.
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 6:21 AM UTC
Bleached blonde hair and cigarette
New high heels the latest dress
Never worked or or done a tap
You greatest works done on your back
The state has filled your moral gap
Jeremy Kyle taught you that
A hero to you, a God in a way
Sat watching him every day
Always first in the que
For any benefits you can *****
Fathers day must be fun !
When seven different fellas come
Live a life without need
All the kids have ADHD
All a label all a brand
To you it's just cash in hand
More for **** and wine as well
A disability car too
They even fill the forms for you
You have it all a hedonite
You don't work or give a *****
Facebook and twitter you just love
Following fools and chatting up
Your an expert now you have it all
The perfect life for **** all
But hang on, what's this pain?
As you age your health gets frail
It's all the **** you shoved inside
Now the NHS supplies
You never paid a penny in
But time to claim it is again
You shout again and stamp your feet
Oxygen and chair for free
And when you finally pop your cloggs
A grant to cremate your sponging ***
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 5:04 AM UTC
here's the price for playin with fire
I'm the dealer you're the buyer
one way ticket to hell
i sense your eagerness, i know it well
STOPPIN FOR PASSENGERS
get some rush thru your vein
here i am to step up the game
okay sit back relax
check your arms .. their full of tracks
moving on to your femoral vein
a 5 mill needle gonna rush your brain
watch out for the DVT
the NHS amputate for free
sit back and enjoy the ride
you're about to lose all your pride
you just handed it to me
i ain't finished yet ... you will see
here i am to make you hurt
as I grind your life into the dirt
(C) MANDY RIGBY 23.06.214
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 8:55 AM UTC
Fortunately
knee replacement surgery
is now available
on the NHS.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
Tell me again how I'm fat
Tell me again how I'm a *****
Tell me again how I'm an idiot
Tell me again how I'm scarred and marked
Tell me again how I'm useless
*I'm fast approaching 90 pounds
I'm one mistake from a ******
I'm in NHS and my GPA is high
I'm a warrior wounded
I'm a support-group leader*
Tell me again,
because I already tell myself.
I'm so used to hearing lies,
I'll believe them anyway.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
Yay, it's another lovely Barry Hodges "Memories" poem.
How happily I recall the excitement of my visits to Lewisham's hospital
For my regular "haemorrhoid adjustment/re-alignment" sessions,
During which time I made the acquaintance of a nursing sister
With possibly the fiercest libido in south-east London.
And one night, whilst we were "on the job" in her comfy cubicle,
I glanced over her fat shoulder through the cracked observation window.
Ah yes, dear reader, it was the relatively cleanish Ward G
(the terminal one where the near-dead await merciful release,
wittily nicknamed "the happy dreamers' room" by the matron,
an evil predatory old **** with a 40-inch waist and wild halitosis);
I watched a spectacularly ugly nurse peering o'er the screen
Around poor old ******** Bertie "Big ***** Bloggs.
His wasted, crippled, whitened pyjamed form
Lay twitching on the none-too-clean patched sheets;
He opened his unseeing, ancient eyes and gave voice:
"Give us a gobble" the old ****** croaked pathetically,
"You know you want to, you fat smelly *****
And then he croaked. Unsucked and unloved,
O my beloved lector, compassionate creature that thou art,
Surely thy pleasure will be utterly intensified to learn that
The NHS bedsheets were indelibly and spectacularly stained
As his bowels opened spontaneously with Death's kindly appearance.
"Gor ******* blimey, what a ******* horrid pong," came a groan:
('twas Sammy "No Legs" Smith in mid-wank on a nearby trolley).
These events in the ward led to an inevitable result for me:
You have divined it correctly, O treasured fan of mine,
Yea verily, the happenings I espied made me blow my ***
Most prematurely and my love-partner, the sylphlike Sister Sally,
Was so sodding annoyed she crushed my tender haemorrhoids
Quite brutally in her surgical spirit-hardened left hand.
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 8:42 AM UTC
In little over two years
I have had more scans
Than a supermarket checkout
There is more of my blood in path labs
Than I have in my body
I've had nasty painful biopsies
Things up my **** and cameras down my neck
There have been countless appointments
At four different hospitals
As well as being hospitalised five times
Including one minor operation
And two major ones
I now have ******* up kidneys
Veins like ropes and arms like Twiglets
And more scars
Than a bad knife-throwers assistant
But what the hell !
I'm still growing old disgracefully
HA !!
By Phil Roberts
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 1:52 AM UTC
•••
Torture and punish me with purposeful bad dentistry, Tell me I’m stupid but you teach me nothing. Brake my un-nourished bones through no fault of my own and offer no physio no help nope nothing...
You bully with taxes and your public servants too,
Inflations a load of ****** climate change, the nhs too, Why do I pay my taxes when prisons just a rent free room?
I suggest you retract your bailiffs before they actually meet my mood
Theyll end up in a puddle of **** and blood crying on the floor
Struggling to survive I feel I can barely breath but Im okay your honour............... I’m living the great ******* british dream
•••
Jul 28, 2021
Jul 28, 2021 at 3:14 PM UTC
So, you're forced to allow them to analyse,And it came to this, before they heard your cries,The ones who love you, claim they did it for the best,But all they hold dear is opinions of the rest. So the pills increase, and the doseage grows,And soon you are not your true self,And before you can deal with it, they've ****** kicked in,And you've become this, someone, else. Your brain becomes numb, and your friends grow scarce,You cann sense it, the fence gets higher,The need to jump is buried deep inside,But you're a medicated liar. You nod, and smile, and jump through hoops,But your insides just keep screaming,You sneakily try to cut the intake,But it all feels like you are dreaming,You keep it quiet, you must tell no one,For back into you it creeps,The fence in sight, the dimming light,The blood begins to seep. Dilemma one, should you become a false interpretation?,Or should you let the real you show, but face NHS damnation?...
Feb 28, 2010
Feb 28, 2010 at 8:16 AM UTC
In little over two years
I have had more scans
Than a supermarket checkout
There is more of my blood in path labs
Than I have in my body
I've had nasty painful biopsies
Things up my **** and cameras down my neck
There have been countless appointments
At four different hospitals
As well as being hospitalised five times
Including one minor operation
And two major ones
I now have ******* up kidneys
Veins like ropes and arms like Twiglets
And more scars
Than a bad knife-throwers assistant
But what the hell !
I'm still growing old disgracefully
HA !!
By Phil Roberts
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC
God save the Queen,
and **** the NHS.
***** the poor,
revere the wealthy.
Business is good;
the population; unhealthy.
Your life's duty to the nation;
Work, spend and copulation.
With currency the cutlery,
to carve the nation up.
We have no choice but to
sip the poison sup.
Turn weak on weak,
Anger from frustration.
In the cold cold heat of
the cruelty of this nation.
God **** the Queen,
and save the NHS.
Give the wealth,
to one and all.
Heed this call;
what we need today.
Is to take back power;
so we can give it away!
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 4:58 PM UTC