Droplets of Verse: ‘Jackboot Rhetoric’

Keep saying the same thing again and again
Eventually, inevitably, it begins to stick
The truth is trodden on, by a size ten
Ratified by state, justified by jackboot rhetoric

Lives of common people rudely interrupted
Thirsty fascists imitate hard core alcoholics
State machinery crudely sabotaged, corrupted
A merciless boot, deafening jackboot rhetoric

Four Line Fairy Tales: ‘Birthday Suit’

The Emperor saw himself as a stylish man, simply magnifique
He hired two tailors to make him a suit, something really fantastic
They made him a gown for his birthday, visible only to the wise
When he paraded his birthday suit, the people couldn’t believe their eyes

Four Line Fairy Tales: ‘Sorcerers’

Sorcerers stalk fairy tales, causing heaps of trouble
Stealing Aladdin’s lamp, turning palaces to rubble
Bad guys with pointed hats and piles of evil spells
They stir their enormous cauldrons, making terrible smells

Four Line Fairy Tales: ‘Gorilla Judge’

The Gorilla Judge sat squarely, incredibly hairy
An ape with a sparing manner, he treated defendants fairly
He sent Pinocchio to prison, but only momentarily
Released him, on appeal, into the care of a kind fairy

Droplets of Verse: ‘Trident Sinking’

An able seaman spoke of his experience aboard a nuclear sub
He accessed secure areas, more easily than getting into most night clubs
Rusty tin cans scraping along the bottom of the ocean floor
Relics from history, from the claustrophobia of the Cold War
Alarm systems deactivated, sirens silenced, warning lights not blinking
A system of defence discredited, the credibility of Trident is sinking

Droplets of Verse: ‘The Briefest of Resignations’

Resignation, then rapid reinstatement
Farage’s feet barely touched the pavement
He failed to win his seat in sunny South Thanet
Didn’t even blame his defeat on the immigrants
He’s got an ego bigger than a banker’s bonus
And more battery life than Duracell Plus
His straight talking style is loved by UKIP supporters
And he’s perfect material for tabloid news reporters

Droplets of Verse: ‘Three Toasters’

Did Chuka quit because he’s got three toasters?
The paparazzi were poised to exploit skeletons and monsters
Chuka decided to withdraw from the leadership race
A citizen’s privacy compromised by the unacceptable face
Of reporters probing into every corner of a man’s life
Pursued by a press pack, by a never ending spotlight
Chuka likes clubbing and sharp suits, keeping it chic
Journalists search for meaning, deep in designer boutiques

Droplets of Verse: ‘Bullingdon Club’

Restaurants got wrecked, all smashed up
Decor destroyed, fine cuisine turned into splatter
An exclusive dining club with a difference
Wealthy Oxford students, whose wallets were fatter
Their ranks produced government ministers
Carefully selected, men with piles of money
A fifty pound note waved in the face of a beggar
Then set on fire, a club initiation ceremony
Generous amounts of cash paid for all the damage
Bundles of banknotes tucked into expensive suits
Wealth flaunted, used to smooth a man’s passage
Boorish, charming, viciously elitist, vomiting brutes
Some of it’s members took advantage of circumstance
David Cameron, ex club member, became Prime Minister
From affluent decadence to full blown swaggering arrogance
Boris Johnson, a Bullingdon beast, became London’s mayor

Abstract Collage One Per Cent by Nicholas Wright

Artwork by Nicholas Wright: ‘Abstract Collage One Per Cent’

Droplets of Verse: ‘It Doesn’t Have To Be Like This’

There’s a tiny elite at the top, running their rackets
While ordinary people work long hours, for meagre pay packets
The yacht club set are never known to be undernourished
Workers in the UK exist on low pay, and food banks flourish

It doesn’t have to be like this

Profiteering from property, landlords build empires of buy to let
Payday loans stack up fast, jacking up personal debt
Communities destroyed, desperation alive and on line
Meanwhile, company directors continue to wine and dine

It doesn’t have to be like this

People gather together, whenever, in fair or foul weather
Defiant voices united, declaring their displeasure
Bitten by austerity, suspicious of anyone in authority
In UK board rooms, executives enjoy lavish hospitality

It doesn’t have to be like this

Elections take place within a national epidemic of indifference
For ordinary people, politicians don’t inspire great confidence
Deals are made in darkened rooms, paying off political history
Corruption spreads like rust along the corridors of central ministry

It doesn’t have to be like this