Tuesday 1 October 2024

Taliban

Armed with guns, armed with tanks,
Armed extremists in their ranks,
Armed to govern, armed to oppress,
Armed to police how women dress.

Toyota trucks, and mobile phones
did not exist when the Quran was told.
Neither men, nor whipping boys,
should need to control a woman's voice.

Back in time, or so they claim,
to live a seventh-century game
of make-believe fairyland.
No women, just the Taliban.

Sunday 1 September 2024

Dumb Luck

Polio in a nation
that's a selvedge 
of civilisation,
while we all live
normal lives.
Convection currents
and seams colliding;
dumb luck not meant
in any mockery.
Just a bias of geography.


Thursday 1 August 2024

Foxgloves High

Hopping, skipping, and self-seeding,
the gardener's prize for not weeding.
Commitment-phobes, they move at will,
form a rosette, and settle in.

They take their time, 
then retire.
Foxgloves high
and mighty spire.


Monday 1 July 2024

Fort Worth

An unfiltered brightness
blinds me, in Fort Worth.
To East Chase, on a bicycle,
shouts from pick-up trucks,
like, "lady, don't die."

The grass sounds and scents
the journey, and I stop half way.
I stand, aware of the movements,
and make sure to stay away
from the vegetation's inhabitants.

In the house, I don't realise 
that cats and air-con
live hermetically-sealed lives,
and will be long gone
if an opening is even implied.

Saturday 1 June 2024

Bottles For Crushing

The civilised entries,
of bottled-water empties,
are sobering sights
for the cola-prone. 
Not one machine working
once I'm done returning
my bottles for crushing,
Diet Pepsi and Coke.

If she were stronger
she'd mainline no longer,
but she's weak and addicted,
and she's very old.
She's got vouchers profuse
that she forgets to use,
from her bottles for crushing,
Diet Pepsi and Coke.

In the Covid pandemic
she stocked up incessant,
but not one sliced pan
or pack of toilet rolls.
Her husband despaired,
and her children went spare,
but she had bottles for crushing,
Diet Pepsi and Coke.

(To the tune of Molly Malone).

Wednesday 1 May 2024

No Bells

Maytrees flowering,
like nothing is wrong.
Rain still showering
all spring long.
Age is devouring 
youth and song.
No bells left to ring,
that time is gone.

Monday 1 April 2024

April

The cat resigned to stay inside,
staring out from his cushioned settle,
following a fieldmouse with his eyes
until it merged with the moss and pebbles.

The thirty-first was dull.
March had come in like a lion
and gone out like a discouraged one,
leaving April to be defiant.

It will still be spring for a month.
Time for the sun to touch and rouse
flagging spirits and feared outcomes,
making things right, turning them round.



Friday 1 March 2024

The Surrogates' Tale

Old Abraham was eventually led
to fatherhood, by Hagar's bed.
The surrogate begets the heir,
then Isaac sets him back to spare.

Mithra, Constantine
replaced with Christianity,
but kept the details of the Persian god:
Shepherds at the birthing scene,
Magi there for visiting.
Tradition covers up the fraud.

There's Jacob, his harem steading,
his wives' younger sisters bedding.
Wedded wombs and concubines
bring forth the heads of the twelve tribes.

Mithra, Constantine
replaced with Christianity,
but kept the details of the Persian god:
Shepherds at the birthing scene,
Magi there for visiting.
Tradition covers up the fraud.

Mary, handmaid of all handmaids,
when virgin birth was all the rage.
Rhea raped for Rome's first brothers,
Raised not by Mars, but Faustulus.

Mithra, Constantine
replaced with Christianity,
but kept the details of the Persian god:
Shepherds at the birthing scene,
Magi there for visiting.
Tradition covers up the fraud.

Thursday 1 February 2024

Burn

Maybe, just to be safe,
they should burn right down
every single dwelling place
in every single town.

It would reassure these tyrants
that the housing list
is as much for migrants
as for arsonists.

If we could exchange
these criminals for refugees,
it would save time on statements
from the dogs in the streets.

Monday 1 January 2024

A Different Woman

As a one-remaining-grandparent child 
I was absolutely fascinated by
the idea of other children going to
their nana's after school.
As a treat.

A far-fetched notion to me
whose grandmother seemed
at the very best, removed.
But, Anna's set of photos prove
all her happy years.