NHS – happy birthday 72 today!
July 5, 2020Should have gone to Barnard Castle (with apologies to Frank Zappa)
June 8, 2020I dreamed I was Dominic C
I dreamed I was a Tory MP
The paparazzi, gathered round see
Under my gate and around my door
Snaps they took, of bobble hat
A hundred degrees, fish-eye view. Ooh!
Oh-oh-Dominic-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
And the public cried,
Oh-oh-ooh-oh-oh
And the public cried,
Dominic – oh, no, no, no!
Watch out where the tourists go, and don’t you take the A68
Dominic – oh no, no. no!
Dominic – oh no, no, no!
Don’t be a naughty spin doctor.
Doo, doo, diddy de wah wah, de diddy
Check your eyesight, don’t travel too far.
Well, I turned around, and I said
Ho, ho. Ooh!
Well I turned around and I said
Ho, Ho. And the northern wind commenced to blow.
And we said, boop, boop, diddy, de woop woop a diddy – with tears in our eyes
Dominic – oh no, no, no!
Watch out where the Tourists go, and don’t you take the A68
Watch out where the tourists go, and don’t you take the A68
Well right about that time, people,
A photographer, who was strictly from the Daily Express
Strictly from the Daily Express
Had the unmitigated audacity to jump up from right behind my BMW
peek-a-boo, wooo-ooo-ooo
and he started taking photographs of my favourite bobble hat
With a Canon EOS 4000D,
I said, with a Canon, EOS, 4000D.
He said, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
With a Canon EOS 4000D.
He went right outside my front gate, and he went snap!
With a Canon EOS 4000D.
And he snapped me from the side and he made sure to get my bobble hat in,
With a Canon EOS 4000D.
And that got me just about as evil as a wannabe-Tory-MP can be
So I reached down inside my brain and I made up a preposterous story about the deadly lockdown rules which I helped to instigate.
The deadly lockdown rules.
The deadly lockdown rules, designed to be as confusing as rules can be, so that the public get blamed for herd immunity, just to take the heat off of Boris Johnson.
I can’t see. Do-do-do-do-do
I can’t see. Do-do-do-do-do
Oh woe is me, COVID-19 has blinded me, temporarily.
Here he goes now, all the way to Durham – drive it!
And then, in a fit of anger, I pounced
And I pounced again. Great googly-woogly
I jumped up and down on the chest of; well I injured the photographer.
Well, he was very upset, as you can understand, and rightly so, because
My excuse was about as prepostorous as any excuse can be.
The deadly virus had deprived me of my sight,
So I got in the car, and I drove around and I said
I can’t see. Do-do-do-do-do-do, yeah!
I can’t see. Do-do-do-do-do-do, yeah!
Oh woe is me, I can’t see. No, no, I can’t see.
COVID-19 has blinded me, temporarily.
Well I stood there, with my car keys in my hand
Across the bleak wasteland of the powerhouse of the North
Trying to figure out about what it is I am going to do about my afflicted eye.
And it was at that precise moment that I remembered an ancient Tory legend,
Inscribed into the head of every devious, lying politician
Wherein it is written: that if anything bad ever happens to your eyes in some sort of global pandemic
The only way you can get it fixed up, is to go drive along the motorway, mile after mile
Drive along the motorway, mile after mile.
Right down to the parish of County Durham
Barnard Castle! Barnard Castle! Barnard Castle! Barnard Castle!
Get in your car and drive to the funky Barnard Castle.
I can’t breathe
June 6, 2020“I can’t breathe”, said George Floyd, neck pinned to the floor, his face caught in a rictus of pain.
“I can’t breathe”, he cried out, as he fought for his life, a plea which we take up again.
We can breathe, sweet, fresh air, we protest, we revolt, but the White House, enclosed in a wall, spews venom and hatred, anger and gall.
Workers rise up in the land of the free, where Kaepernick bravely took the knee.
Killer cop charged with manslaughter, third degree; the others get away, scot free.
And thousands of black men, confined to their cells. Don’t think it is solely an American crime.
Mark Duggan, Charles De Menezes, in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
So let’s fight for a world which treats us all equally, police elected from the whole community.
Let’s fight to get rid of this capitalist system, it breeds inequality and hate.
Let’s fight for a world that is free of oppression, sow seeds of freedom, rather than a police state.
Cummings and Goings
May 24, 2020Oh dear, what can the matter be?
Dominic Cummings gone up to Durham, see?
He was there from Sunday till Saturday,
And nobody knew he was there.
First excuse, I had to get a child minder
I’m only the monkey, not the organ grinder.
On the internet, I just couldn’t find her,
And nobody knew he was there.
And it’s oh, dear, what can the matter be?
Dominic Cummings gone up to Durham, see?
He was there from Sunday till Saturday,
And nobody knew he was there.
Second excuse, just nipped out to shops, you see?
But a faulty sat nav, ended up on the A43
From there, short hop up the A1 motorway,
And nobody knew I was there.
And it’s, oh, dear, what can the matter be?
Dominic Cummings gone up to Durham, see?
He was there from Sunday till Saturday,
Nobody knew he was there.
A precedence made by a scientific aide
Neil resigned, he couldn’t resist getting laid.
Why don’t you follow the rules which you made?
‘Cos nobody knew I was there.
And it’s, oh, dear, what can the matter be?
Dominic Cummings gone up to Durham, see?
He was there from Sunday till Saturday,
And nobody knew he was there.
And then there was Catherine Calderwood,
Visiting second home, ‘cos she thought she could
Get away to Fife, but soon she would
Find everyone knew she was there.
And it’s, oh dear, what can the matter be?
Dominic Cummings gone up to Durham, see?
He was there from Sunday till Saturday,
Nobody knew he was there.
A morality tale, for the great and the good
Follow the rules, that you said we should
Don’t try to hide behind spin and falsehood,
Someone will find out you were there.
Stay alert!
May 10, 2020Stay alert for virus particles, invisible to the eye,
Stay alert for propaganda, deluding you and I.
Stay alert, not stay at home, so it’s OK to go out?
Stay alert in green, that’s safe, right? Rules which we can flout?
Work from home if you can, but don’t use bus or train.
Work from home if you can, road network not to strain.
Work from home if you can, but cycle if you must.
Work from home if you can, Tories we should never trust.
Limit contact with other people, so it’s OK we should meet?
Limit contact with other people, but friends live down our street.
Limit contact with other people, what about our human rights?
Limit contact with other people – is COVID kryptonite?
Herd immunity by another name, is what our rulers preach.
Herd immunity for their gain, vague rules which people breach.
Herd immunity threatens those who fought for you and I.
Herd immunity is fatal: are loved ones invisible to the eye?
Poem for Art’s Birthday 17/1
January 19, 2020https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JSjCgQuvhh0
On the 17th January 2020, Art is 1,000,057 years old!
Fold a paper hat. Make an inane grin.
Put the hat on your head like Napoleon.
Let Filliou be your guide.
Celebrate. Rejoice in the making, the process.
Find wonder where and while we can.
Explore, invent, contrive. See things anew.
Revisit the ordinary. Your breakfast – for example:
Where did it come from? What was involved?
Measure, observe – the change as it flows from your mouth
To be expelled in a smelly heap, which we do not mention at dinner parties.
Look at the world with the eyes of a child.
Australia is on fire. The Amazon – razed and bulldozed for profit.
Jeff Bezos – he’s richer than you think!
A billion seconds is 31 years. Each second, you get a crisp, green dollar:
How long would you have had to live to match his wealth?
The screen you are watching would turn black and white
And then morph into a loom of punched cards.
It would swell until it burst through the roof; a riot of wiring and hot valves.
Air raid sirens would wail above the whistle of deadly doodlebugs.
The great depression would bring capitalists to their knees.
Lines of shabby figures queue against the cold, waiting:
Work never materialises.
Mud, trenches, Maxims rattle. Pointless, bloody conflict, over long-forgotten empires. Lives Wasted.
Let’s not speak of that – it is Art’s Birthday, after all!
Why aren’t you smiling? Put your hat back on!
Where were we? Film would be lost to the spinning thaumatrope,
Babbage would be labouring vainly over his engines.
Ironbridge gorge, no longer spanned with iron, would just be . . . a gorge.
Factories, looms would give way to spinning jennies.
Fire would engulf London’s narrow alleyways.
Shakespeare would be drawing on his pipe, candlelit at a writing desk.
Plague would remind us that we are all made of dust.
Chaucer’s pilgrims would be in the Tabard, downing small beer as they
Embarked on their footsore slog to Canterbury.
Viking longships with bright spears, intricate brooches sparkle in sunlight.
Hadrian’s Wall would spring up from the rubble of centuries.
But that is all gone, dead, unimportant.
Why dwell on the past – it is Art’s birthday!
Where were we? Pythagoras, Archimedes, or some long-forgotten thinker
Crafted wheels of clockwork, set in motion to mimic the planet’s orbits
Only to be lost below the Mediterranean. The first computer.
But you are still nowhere near his fortune. Nowhere near early enough.
We need to go back to Ur, Sumer and clay tablets. Millenia before
Modern silicon enabled Amazon to feast on their rivals.
To swallow whole companies in a single, ravenous gulp.
Democracy does not have a price – regardless what Bezos may think.
Something within always resists the stench of value and profit and greed.
Amazon’s blank, grey panopticons are encircled by shanty towns of tents
As their workers, on the pittance doled out, cannot afford to rent.
But Art lives on. Rebellion lives on. Protest lives on.
Carols for Corbyn
December 12, 2019God rest ye merry workers
God rest ye merry workers, let nothing you dismay.
Get to a polling station, cast your vote on Thursday.
Let’s get rid of Boris Johnson, as we got rid of Theresa May
The Tory party’s had it’s day, its had it’s day.
The Tories have had their day.
God rest ye merry workers, let nothing you dismay.
Remember that next Thursday, it is time to vote away
This cruel and callous governmment, divided and corrupt.
Good tidings of Corbyn and joy,
Corbyn and joy.
Good tidings of Corbyn and joy.
O come all ye workers
O come all ye workers, ye poor and downtrodden
O come ye, O come ye to a polling booth.
You don’t need any ID, you just need a conscience,
Its time for us to speak out, its time for us to shout out
Its time for ordinary people to have their say.
Stand up for common decency, stand up for fair society
Stand up for public services, and our NHS.
Fight against greed, fight against hatred
Fight to end austerity, fight to end austerity,
Fight to end austerity and fair pay for all.
Fight to abolish the anti-trade union laws
Fight to reclaim profits the bosses stole.
O come all ye workers, ye poor and downtrodden
O come ye, O come ye to a polling booth.
O come let’s vote for Corbyn,
O come let’s vote for Corbyn,
O come let’s vote for Corbyn:
Tories Out!
Once in [insert adjective] [insert name of place] city
Once in diverse Leicester City
Stood a lowly polling booth.
It’s not special, it’s not even pretty,
A precious chance to make our mark.
Vote for change, an end to austerity
Vote against greed and inequality
Vote for Corbyn, vote for Labour
Vote for socialist policies to begin to change the world.