How Polly Ticks
written for National Poetry Day 2019 on the theme “Truth”
This world is descending
into who can lie loudest.
The biggest lies win
the biggest prize.
It’s such a coincidence that compulsive liars
are also shockingly repulsive human beings.
And they use these lies to convince
hundreds of thousands of human beings –
ordinary people like you and me –
that they should be the ones making decisions.
Truth is just something to be glossed over
on your way into power.
Facts are countered by alternative facts.
They parrot their message over and over ad nauseum….
STRONG AND STABLE!
MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!
LET’S GET BREXIT DONE!
FAKE NEWS!
Until us regular human beings are worn down,
until we don’t have the energy to continue to fight,
until we struggle to see through every lie,
and they can do whatever they like.
This is how they turn the world
into their own hideous visions
where if you’re skin is “the wrong colour”
or you love “the wrong person”
or you’re too poor, or too sick, or too disabled,
or if disagree with them in any way
you’re an enemy of the people.
They have allies in this fight.
Those who repeat their words and, without fail,
Present an extremely one sided view of the world.
Anyway, what I’m trying to say is:
Don’t read the Daily Mail.
October
The sky goes grey
The ground turns orange
Every step crunches
We segue into Autumn
Clothes are thicker
Heating higher
The world is uninviting
Outside of my bed
Every breath
makes a shape
On cold platforms
I dream of mulled wine
Underneath the half-moon light
Two lovers stroll
Arm in arm and laughing
Sharing in-jokes about
How they spent their night.
Each of them has a backstory
Full of lost love,
Heartbreak, pain and fights
But tonight, merrily, they stroll
Under the lunar glory.
Each former love is a battle scar,
Each fight a tortured memory,
Each tear a reservoir of despair,
Each breakup an eon of melancholy.
All of which has shaped the person they now are.
Yet they will not let their past
Define who they are today.
Mistakes were made
So lessons could be learned
To allow them happiness at last.
Think of all the things we’ve all lost.
An hour of travelling when instead
We could all still be sleeping in bed.
It doesn’t pass by any of our eyes
All of which are glued instead
To Facebook, emails or Netflix.
But it’s rare that I’ll give it a second look.
This landscape’s been torn in two with rails,
You can almost hear the countryside wail.
To be stuck inside in this metal cage.
That speeds us towards jobs we hate
Where we’ll watch the clock throughout the day.
Upon the same railway track
To the place we’d rather be
For a few short hours before we sleep.
Who Am I Voting For? A poem about the 2017 General Election
I’ve got enough cash
But I know each of us are just a few steps away
From falling in the trash.
And those yet to fall.
I’m voting for my countrymen, one and all.
Not just the men but the women too,
Including all of those who have suffered abuse
And are now being asked to prove
That their child was born as a result of rape.
What are we, apes?
But we seem to forget that others have feelings.
We seem to believe they’re not deserving of aid
Just because of how much they get paid.
I’m voting for those on zero hours contracts
Living day to day, unsure if they can make the rent.
Whose pay has been frozen for several years.
I’m voting for those who the government reduce to tears
Or even worse – those who have died
After being told they are fit for work
Or, from stress, committed suicide.
Who spend their own money on materials, so the kids can learn
Even though they don’t have money to burn.
Who works extra hours at the end of her shift
And I’m voting for those who need treatment
But for months have been on the waiting list.
Those who the council are unable to home
Who live on the streets or on a friend’s floor
Or told who are told to relocate to another town.
If university is something that they can afford.
I’m voting for those who will never see wealth.
Because in the future it may be me,
And I want to live in a caring society.
By politicians of all colours, red orange or blue.
I’m voting for change.
I’m voting for a man who will do what he says.
Waiting to get out
Lies an imprisoned formula
And, by extrapolation, it’s result.
I help to release them
Treading slowly at first
Using manual calculation.
battling with Excel
It’s not a sword
but a keyboard I wield.
I declare aloud
“I remember when this
was nothing but fields.”