Alone is his pyjamas
After the sycophants
Are all in their beds
The dictator, silent
Examines his image
By moonlight
Wrinkles and lines
Cratered temples
And soft-joweled planes
Surrounded by wealth
In the marbled rooms
Of a haunted palace
He did not inherit
But strives to display
To best advantage
For diplomatic reasons
Dreaming of leaner,
Keener days
Before he became
A political prisoner
Trapped and tamed
By the violent success
Of his own actions
Selling-out
That’s OK! (by me)
Never try to date musicians
Actors, players or politicians
All who make fame their lifelong mission
Feel compelled to keep ambition
Uppermost in their mind’s eye.
Resisting those whose hopes may lie
In other kinds of pie-filled sky,
Aspire to happiness: decry
The complex marketing campaigns
To fill your dreams with endless strains
Of violins, and chilled champagne
(Someone is selling something vain)
You’re not obliged to join, partake
In putting out, appearing, fake
So falsely cheerful, on the make
We don’t all want the same big break
And there are many paths to tread
That do less harm and keep you fed
You could just read a book instead
To fill your soul, first fill your head
Hidden Agenda
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
Nudity, Nazis and New Labour
Advertising’s not what it was
The theatre needs a pimp
Instead of plays to draw applause
We want more wits, less think
An audience cannot be left
To cogitate alone
They seek a clue, a hand so deft
It helps them feel at home
We’ll dumb them down, those classic plays
And sell them out for laughs
For Shakespeare simply doesn’t phase
They crave more tits and arse
We’ll set the thing in modern times
So costumes are no hassle
Those kings and queens of long lost rhymes
Will reunite in chaps and tassels
Actors just do what they’re told,
Trust in director’s vision
Agents worth their weight in gold
Cannot prevent derision
And thus the show goes on and on
Reviewers numb to change
They watch the peep show and anon
From theatre are estranged
Katherine Shirley 