Tag: poetry

Bored Of Peace

He’s a gangster, he’s a liar
Won’t even tell the truth about his height and his weight
He’s a rapist, he’s a grifter
He’s President of the United States
He was the first one to bomb Iran
He’s got masked agents roaming the streets
No-one’s safe from a Trump firearm
He’s got all the guns and now he’s bored of peace
He’s bored of peace
He’s bored of peace
He’s bored of peace

He’s got a bible, he didn’t read it
He says god wants him to lead the Race
You had your warning, you didn’t heed it
Now he’s President of the United States
He’s a colonist, he’s a sinner
Gonna carve up Gaza piece by piece
He’s got a medal but he’s no prize-winner
He’s got all the guns and now he’s bored of peace
He’s bored of peace
He’s bored of peace
He’s bored of peace

He’ll buy you off or just invade ya
He profits from the chaos he creates
Greenland or Venezuela
He’s President of the United States
Rubio, Witkoff, Kushner, Blair
The worst reputations in the middle east
An open invitation to the billionaire
He’s got all the guns and he’s bored of peace
He’s bored of peace
He’s bored of peace
He’s bored of peace
He’s bored of peace
He’s bored of peace
He’s bored of peace

When your silence is compliance
Raise your voice
When your silence is compliance
Raise your voice
Raise your voice
When your silence is compliance
Raise your voice
When your silence is compliance
Raise your voice
Raise your voice
When your silence is compliance
Raise your voice
When your silence is compliance
Raise your voice

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Arise Sir…Oh, Maybe Not

How warm are your stables?
How bent are your tax affairs?
How pliable your opinion?
How shallow are your cares?

How warm are your stables?
How thick are your lies?
How cheap is your loyalty?
You joined Reform, surprise!

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Minneapolis

A poet’s words heard for the first time
Are like something you already knew
A poet should say what needs to be said
A poet should speak it true
A poet should say what you need to hear
And you know she was a poet too
Minneapolis was yet another outrage
But this time she looked like you

Rest In Power, Renee Nicole Good

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Waiting For All The Facts

Nick says it’s audacious
We think it’s outrageous
Kier says nothing to do with us
He’s waiting for all the facts

Nick thinks he’s a giant
We think he’s a tyrant
Kier’s remaining silent
He’s waiting for all the facts

Nick thinks that it’s great
We’re both scared and irate
Kier says just wait
He’s waiting for all the facts

Nick says it’s a flex
And it’s Colombia next
Kier says it’s complex
He’s waiting for all the facts

Nick says nothing ‘bout oil
That makes our blood boil
The question would make Sir Kier recoil
He’s waiting for all the facts

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Venezuela: Starmer Speaks Out (Oh No He Doesn’t)

Sir Kier sheds no tear for Maduro
For international law is his call
On kidnap, oil and violence
From Sir Kier simply silence
In a statement as weak as it is small

Sir Kier sheds no tear for Venezuela
Of the people, he said nothing at all

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Sid Vicious

On a stormy night, I dreamed of Sid Vicious
In the days after the Chelsea Hotel
He said I’m running out of time
And I’ve got a story to tell
Of how he went by Simon or sometimes John
And the things mum had done to get by
He spoke of heroin and homelessness
I let him talk and didn’t reply
But then he said that it was Rotten
Who’d first called him Sid
And Rotten is as Rotten does
But it was Malcolm who decided what they did
He looked tired, but he could tell
That there was something on my mind
He paused and looked straight at me
I said, Sid, I’ve got to ask why
Why, he replied, and I wished I’d not started
But he said, spit it out, kid
Why, I repeated, finally
Why the swastikas, Sid?
He looked at his boots and said, you gotta understand
The Pistols had to be a hit
We needed all the shock that we could muster
To shake them all up a bit
Malcolm was a pervert and we were cartoons
The war was over and the bad guys had lost
We made good telly, you know how it is
No one really counted the cost
And it’s not like we were actually Nazis
Just by sporting the kit
Not even Lemmy, he added
And he really loved that shit
Quite the collection of memorabilia
Uniforms, knives, flags and belts
But Lemmy wasn’t a Nazi
He just thought he was better than everyone else
But I’ll tell you this, his voice was fading
I would never wear one now
It was a bit of punk fun in ‘77
But you’ve just got to look around
We had the NF pantomime fascists
In coopted braces and boots
But never politicians and billionaires
Throwing up Nazi salutes
No, I wouldn’t ever wear one now, Sid said
Because someone will wear it and mean it
Don’t tell me you never watch TV
Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it
I would never wear one now, he said
I would never wear one now
One stormy night, I dreamed of Sid Vicious
Though he was long since dead
It was the days after the Chelsea Hotel
And this is what he said

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The Difference Between You And Your Grandad

Your grandad shot at nazis
taxed the rich and built the NHS
You mum fought for equality
and fairness, nonetheless
we sleepwalked into the arms
of bastard billionaires
Now you hang flags from lampposts
and mouth pantomime prayers

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Dogs, Pigs, Three-Year-Old Kids

Dogs, pigs, three-year-old kids
Eating one the law forbids
Convention says the second is
Similarly deterred
While of the tragic third
Consumption is preferred
Which is absurd
When you consider
The pig desires to not be dinner
As much as the kid
Would rather not get et
And don’t forget the dog
Who one simply does not eat
While he snoozes at your feet
Why not let
All three be free
To snooze and play
And not be tea

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Oh Tommy. F**k Off! – Live at Steve’s House

In Eleanor’s vineyard, Tommy’s on his knees, pretending to pray
He holds his bible upside down and wonders what Charlie would say
His god washed Islamophobic endeavour gains new followers every day
But he’s a coked up criminal grifter who’s going away

And they sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest

You can’t write everybody off, some folk are just taken in
The difference between influenced and influencers is written on the tin
But when the fascists are at the door be sure to not let them in
And he’s a coked up criminal grifter who should be in the bin

And they sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest

Now Jesus of Nazareth was many things
But nationalism won’t win you your angel wings
Your patriotic cross is just so much toss
So you can Oh Tommy Tommy off

When they sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
They sing ‘Oh, Tommy, Tommy’ and we sing ‘Fuck off’
Sometimes you just got to get it off your chest

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