Well-versed in deflection
Adept sleight-of-eye
We swallow confection
No hint of a lie
With no information
To pad out the cues
We’re sunk in deflation
That borders abuse
And used to the stories
So rarely explained
We vote for HisTories
And nothing is gained
Consistent imprudence
Of well-feathered nest
Career jurisprudence
You-know-who knows best
We’re damned by inaction
To more of the same
A knee-jerk reaction
And someone to blame
It’s that time of year again when I trudge through my various bits and pieces and root out those submissions that were rejected outright or (worse) that never received a reply. Those that were written to a set theme or spec, I usually post here, as they are rarely suitable for resubmission elsewhere.
As you may be able to guess, these were written to a set theme – Power. I generally try not to over-explain my scribbles as I often feel if they require an explanation, then they aren’t finished yet, however this particular publication requested a brief introduction to each poem, so I have included these in my post.
This poem was written from the perspective of a Liberal politician nominally ‘In Power’ within the current coalition government, musing on the present state of the UK.
In Power
Feel my rhythm, see my vision
Fear the schism of this prism
All must work in culmination
Bettering the nation’s station
Tweaking noses, stomping toeses
Pack a pocketful of posies
Quick to hide the stench of rows
All long-since passed their sell-by codes
Darker glasses for middle classes
Out on arses for making passes
No more handouts for noisy standouts
Put up, shut up, we’re boss and bandits
Tailored speeches to tired teachers
Bitter leeches and lay-down preachers
Sieve for truth from the lie-buffet
Here’s a vibrant youth, let him have his say
Disenchanting, we see them panting
For what they’re wanting, and now recanting
Scrambled egg stains the ties of old
And the very dregs of the yellow fold
This poem was written about a turbulent relationship with an imbalance of power as one person chooses what is best for both of them on a whim, without reference to the other person’s thoughts or feelings.
Power
We’re together
Off and on
Depending how light
You are feeling
That switch in your brain
Flicks from one
To the other
And once again
Here I stand
In the dark
This poem was written on a miserably cold morning, sitting at a desk in a room with no heating, trying to summon up enough energy to face the day and gazing out of the window at one kind driver helping a total stranger get a battered old banger going again.
Jump Leads
Give us a bump start
A quick start, a jump start
To be smart and hearty
A powerful party
Yeah, kick off the traces
Of car-to-car chases
I want to feel spaces
See people, go places
Katherine Shirley 