The News In Poetry Day 43: Bargain

Note for international readers. Primark is a budget clothes outlet. Americans -think Old Navy’s bargain rack. It’s sometimes ironically known as Primani because of its blatant designer knock offs.

http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-22275597

Check out my awesome bird print peplum.
Wait till you see my day glo jeans
I’m causing a stir in sparkly sandals
And all of this is within my means!

Only the best from old Primani!
You can’t beat a bit of Recession chic
Amazing how it’s all such good value
Of the reasons why we had best not speak

Watch the collapse of a garment factory
Gasp as the workers scream and die
Sigh when they say the firm cut corners
To keep costs down, but do not ask why.

Check out my awesome clothes from Primark
Dressed to the nines, don’t I look nice?
Think of the folk who lost their loved ones.
Even a bargain has a price.

The News In Poetry Day 42: Cosmetic Crisis

http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/health-22215882

Beauty on a budget!
Go under the knife!
Safety risk? We’ll fudge it!
We’re here to change your life

Get yourself some Botox
To smooth your furrowed brow
Those worry lines are ugly –
You can afford it now!

We’ll suction out a lifetime
Of lipo from your hips
Then we’ll sell it back to you
For plumping up your lips.

And throw away your razors
You’ll never wax again
We’ll shock the hair right out of you
And never mind the pain.

Now splash out on a boob job
You’ll never feel alone!
We’ll make a cut and stuff you
With toxic silicone.

So listen when they tell you
That you’re not good enough
Acceptance can be costly
And being human’s tough

But everyone’s entitled
To be all they can be.
And for a modest payment
We’re here to set you free.

The News In Poetry Day 41: A Business Opportunity

http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-22266051

I heard that in far away places
Each day has a body count
I looked into scared foreign faces
And straight away thought of my bank account.

I knew I had something to offer
I sensed opportunity
To easily fill up my coffers.
To monetize their vulnerability.

The bombs and grenades kept on killing
The terror seemed infinite.
But then, I have never been willing
To really look too deeply into it.

They wanted to buy my devices
I made no objection
I offered the very best prices
For my bogus explosive protection.

Some people can hear about violence
And stand idly by.
But some, like myself, break the silence
And it’s blown all my profits sky high!

The News In Poetry Day 40: Good Natured Horseplay

One phrase in this report stood out a mile.

http://m.thestar.co.uk/news/local/torched-teenager-south-yorks-killer-s-lenient-sentence-challenged-1-560006

One night me and my mates went out
To have a laugh and mess about
Adventure waits, there is no doubt
With our good natured horseplay

So hide your daughter, warn your son:
Don’t do the crazy things we’ve done
To us of course, it’s just for fun
Good old good natured horseplay

These harmless male bonding dares
Weren’t serious at all: who cares
If we caught someone unawares
With our good natured horseplay?

A birthday party sounds ok
The host disabled, shy and gay…
You’ll guess the sort of things we’d say:
It’s all good natured horseplay.

And so on Steve we paid a call
We covered him in hateful scrawl
It wasn’t bullying at all:
Only good natured horseplay.

Then, doused in oil and set alight
He never got the chance to fight
For us it was another night
Of our good natured horseplay.

Sentenced to three and out in one.
We’ll more than pay for what we’ve done.
We’ll soon be back out having fun:
Good old good natured horseplay!

In memory of Steven Simpson.

The News In Poetry Day 39: In Defence Of My Country

Oh shut up, Farage.
http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-22238575

My country is a small island.
The weather is often bad.
We have no particular industry
Anymore.

My country had a dark past.
My people have invaded
Exploited and oppressed
Many others.

My country has many inequalities.
The poor are demonised,
The disabled are impoverished
As the rich grow ever richer.

But I love my country
For the many languages I can hear in the street,
For the many flavours I can taste in the air.
For the music and the laughter and the chaos and the peace
Which all converges

On this wet, grey, miserable island

And fills it with colour.

Join us, and welcome.

The News In Poetry Day 38: Captured!!!

Boston Police’s Twitter account doing my work for me today…
Captured!!!

The hunt is over.
The search is done.
The terror is over.
And justice has won.

Suspect in custody
Who needs a trial?
We all know he’s guilty
No point in denial.

So, people of Boston
The terror is ended
A terrified teen
Has been apprehended.

He probably did it
We always can tell
We must say he hid it
Incredibly well –

A kid with ambition
With parents who cared
Put in this position
His hatred was bared.

And Arabs and Muslims
Are being attacked
The whole country through:
They had best watch their back

The misunderstanding,
The sorrow, the hate:
An unstoppable tide
It’s already too late.

The hunt is over.
The search is done.
The terror is over.
And justice has won.

The News In Poetry Day 37: Not Rolf Harris

http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-22212131

TRIGGER WARNING SEXUAL ABUSE DENIALISM

Because we loved him so much
And he was like our uncle.
And he taught us to draw things
And he sang funny little songs
And well. It couldn’t be:
Not him.

Because the people who abuse children –
Surely they are sinister, shadowy.
Surely we can tell who they are
Surely they are not among us
Surely they are not this treasured eccentric grandpa:
Not him

Because it’s easier to say
That somebody is lying
That they’re making too much of it.
That it was a different time
That really they were to blame:
Not him.

Because the ones who cause the hurt
Couldn’t be deceitful
Couldn’t convince they were harmless
Couldn’t manipulate us.
Couldn’t be someone we trust.
Not him.

The News In Poetry Day 36: Profile

Thanks for this story to the awesome Citizen Radio podcast who, as they rightly point out, are more accurate than CNN. http://wearecitizenradio.com/
The story Jamie and Alison reference is explained here.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mobileweb/2013/04/17/boston-bombing-suspect-description_n_3104164.html

A dark skinned male
Is under suspicion
But so far we have failed
To coerce an admission

It’s the same old tale
We’ve raised the alarm
That a dark skinned male
Means your family harm.

Is he Arabic? Black?
Is he Asian? Latino?
Are we under attack?
He’s not white, is all we know.

Our rhetoric’s stale
It’s a terrible shame
That a dark skinned male
Is always to blame.

The News In Poetry Day 35: A Funeral March

http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-22178765

http://m.guardian.co.uk/world/middle-east-live/2013/apr/17/syria-crisis-aleppo-truce-live

http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/04/16/17776320-adorable-boy-8-mourned-after-boston-marathon-blasts?lite

An earthquake hit Iran
The army were drafted in
To help the injured
Bury their dead.

The guns in Syria
Stopped for long enough
That rotting corpses
Could be cleared away.

Mourners in Boston
Remembered a small boy
Who wanted the world
To stop hurting people.

Remember them today.

The News In Poetry Day 34: Marathon Man

http://www.channel4.com/news/boston-attack-three-dead-fbi-hunt-terror-suspects

My dad’s a runner. He’ll be coming soon.
He’s not the fastest, but he’s pretty good.
We have been waiting all the afternoon.
He’ll soon be here, like Mommy said he would.

I want to be like Dad when I’m a man
And run in marathons. Perhaps I’ll win.
I’ll train so hard, and do the best I can.
To be like dad. He puts the effort in.

The day is hot, the crowds are really loud.
So many people cheering for their friends
But I am here for Dad, and I’m so proud
He knows I’m waiting for him at the end.

Today I’m standing waving in the sun.
When I grow up, I’ll run and run and run.