http://m.guardian.co.uk/world/2013/jun/03/turkey-protests-us-voices-concern
You are the city.
You are the pavements
And the signposts
And the railings.
You are the human faces
Of the stone and concrete
And steel and Tarmac.
You are here to do
What a city would do
For its citizens.
When you rise against us
Civilization is lost.
http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-22746347
He’s there for good,
Like an awkward guest
Who won’t take the hint.
What can they tell people?
Oh, him? That’s Julian.
He just lives here.
It’s complicated.
He pissed the USA off
Then raped some girls
So we said he could stay here
It seemed a good idea
At the time, heroic,
We liked the stuff he’d done
(Not the rapes, obviously,
But before that)
Now he won’t fucking leave
And nobody wants
To admit that it was
A terrible idea
To say he could sta:
It just seems rude
We don’t want to look stupid
So we’re sticking it out.
Until it blows over.
So…the old storeroom
Has a rapist in it.
It’s best not to go in there
Or take any naps
While you’re visiting.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2334451/Tony-Blair-says-murder-Lee-Rigby-PROVES-problem-Islam.html?ito=feeds-newsxml
I’m indicted by you, Tony:
Because of what you’ve said
It has to be assumed
I want Iraqi children dead.
I’m tainted by you, Tony:
My reputation’s soiled
Now everyone’s aware
That I’ll do anything for oil.
I can’t be trusted, Tony,
You know the reason why:
If asked about invasion risks
It’s obvious I’ll lie.
You’ve shamed your people, Tony
We’re all of us affected.
Your crimes against humanity
Mean we must be suspected.
Oh followers of Islam
We know this isn’t fair,
But please, I’m begging you, don’t think
We’re all like Tony Blair
This one is a homage to Flanders & Swann’s animal songs, which I deeply recommend for youtubing with kids.
My favourites are The Gnu, Mopy Dick (its about a whale: calm down) and The Hippopotamus Song.
I’m slowly being defrosted
After ages in the ice
And being thus accosted
Well, I do not think it’s nice
I’ve had my time upon the earth
Your plans have got me groaning
Do not subject me to rebirth:
Abandon thoughts of cloning.
The world I left was icy cool
With snowstorms I was pelted
And now, thanks to some dangerous fool
The poles have nearly melted.
My coat’s warm and luxurious
Please do not think I’m boasting
Your climate makes me furious
It’s absolutely roasting!
What really makes my blood run cold?
What really puts the boot in?
If I come back to life, I’m told,
They’ll make me wrestle Putin!
http://m.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2013/may/30/reality-based-feminism-louise-mensch
Reality, you see, is straight and white
And feminism needs to keep it real
These words like “cis” and “intersectional”
Oppress and silence people like myself
Experience is quite irrelevant
To feminism. I am well informed.
How dare you say you might know more than me
About something you live through every day?
Transgender, or of colour, even poor?
Your feminism isn’t really real.
But do not worry, you can still be saved
Be quiet, and I’ll tell you what to do.
http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-22706351
This document is not
Worth the paper it’s printed on.
But what it documents
Is beyond value.
This milestone
Is not the destination
But a single step on the journey.
Entering this institution,
Our lives bound together
Brings us closer to freedom
As we celebrate our love
Don’t gloat, and don’t despair.
The arguments and protests
Are for other days.
Love yourselves,
Let’s love ourselves,
Because it’s important.
In memory of Lucy Meadows.
http://m.guardian.co.uk/uk/2013/may/28/lucy-meadows-coroner-press-shame
She breathed it in:
Tasteless and toxic,
Poisoning the air
She knew the harm of it,
But still she breathed it in:
A teacher who was driven to despair
It soon began
To weaken her,
With every passing second
It became
More difficult to speak
And then to think
And then to care
Toxic and tasteless:
Sometimes we hardly realise
That it’s there.
They are here.
The lesbian Muslim asylum seekers.
We invoked them for our own gain
We summoned them unthinkingly
In the dark rites of Potter and of Moir,
Of Littlejohn and of Phillips.
But never did we think this day would come.
Our warnings were but words to stir your fear
To frighten and control you.
But now we have summoned them
The lesbian Muslim asylum seekers.
And the end times are truly begun.
Late! Sorry.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/crime/10081842/Rape-is-not-always-rape-says-TV-presenter-Nick-Ross.html
This vagina is a wallet full of notes.
Flashed about by a dumb kid who’s new in town.
This vagina is a laptop on a train.
Confidential files left unprotected
Tempting innocent men to theft.
This vagina is a possession
Belonging to a boyfriend or a husband
It’s up to her to keep it safe for him.
It’s her fault if his treasure is defiled
This vagina is a mogwai,
Exotic, precious, cute,
And terrifying wet or late at night.
This vagina needs a chaperone,
One careful owner
And a sense of shame.
And one more thing, Nick Ross,
My vagina thinks you are a cunt.
http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-22664835
On a street near mine
There’s a little red brick mosque.
It’s been there years,
But recently a minaret appeared.
Like an old Sheffield nannan,
She knows her roots, but loves her life today.
A shopkeeper’s family lived in her once,
Sold flour and eggs and butter from her front
And hung ceramic ducks on her walls.
Which ring, now, with the prayers of the devout.
And she wears that red brick minaret
And that bright dome of steel
Like a new hijab
Over her pensioner’s shampoo and set.
She’s not like that flashy one with the big green dome,
She’s a proper deedar mosque.
This is the Islam that I know:
Part of my community,
Yorkshire and proud.
And I hope that old lady is safe tonight,
Not battered or insulted by the thugs
Who think they speak for me.
Tom Juniper Poetry