The News In Poetry Day 13: Woman Wears Clothes

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-2299417/Victoria-Pendleton-fails-impress-regal-wardrobe-upgrades-MBE-CBE.html
I’ve realized that by doing a news based poem every day, I’m basically signed up to 100 days of lefty rants. The stories that inspire me are likely to be close to my heart.
In the interests of variety, though, here’s some news from the Daily Mail

A woman (whose achievements are apparently irrelevant.)
Went off to see a woman who is very very rich.
The woman with the money pinned a special little button
On the other woman’s clothes and now it’s time for us to bitch.

We do not think the woman with the button and the money
Likes seeing clothes that look like those the other woman wore.
We do not think the woman (who did something unimportant)
Is good at wearing clothes and, well, what else are women for?

But the woman with the money seems quite happy in the pictures
And the unimportant woman has a badge on her lapel.
But she will be despised and hated cos she’s uncoordinated…
Course it’s in the public interest: we’ve got newspapers to sell!

The News In Poetry Day 12: School Report

http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/education-21903397

I get to hear a lot about the direction teaching and learning is taking in the UK.
Enough to know that school would be even more miserable for me now than it was then.

If I were at school
I’d be failing my teachers.
And letting the school down
As well as myself.

I’d be skewing the data
And missing my goals
At the cost of my teachers’
Emotional health.

They would hide me away
When the OFSTED inspectors
Were stalking the school
For their comments would burn.

Because someone would notice
That in twenty minutes
I just couldn’t demonstrate
All that I’d learned.

Yet I was a swot
And an overachiever
At least in the subjects
At which I excelled.

I passed my exams
And completed my coursework
No textbook unthumbed
And no vocab misspelled

A deep-thinking learner,
My brain’s a slow burner.
I mulled it all over
Through months and through years.

But if they had asked me
For halfhourly updates
Then school would, for me
Have meant failure and tears.

So pity the children
Who learn the way I did
The ones who need time
Each idea to explore.

The ones who hear questions
That haven’t been asked yet.
Who know that to each
Simple answer, there’s more.

For school must be hellish
If you are a dreamer
Who won’t fit in boxes,
Who fails every test.

And if it were me,
I’d be starting to wonder
If grown ups in government
Really know best.

The News In Poetry Day 11: The Perils Of Shared Student Accommodation

http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-south-yorkshire-21917880

Local News today. Apparently some student accommodation in sheffield “just fell down”?!
I presume there’s a passive aggressive note taped to the rubble…

Hi Housies!!!!! Think it’s time for a reminder
To ask if we can keep some things in mind, yeah?!
I know we’ve ALL got lots of things to do,
But happy house sharing is down to YOU!!
So please make sure you always take your turn
At washing up: some people never learn!!
And as for milk, I hate to be a bore,
But if you use it up, go get some more!!!
And last of all. I know we’re party BEASTS
And total legends, (that’s to say the least!)
But SOMEBODY knocked down the house last night.
So come on guys, own up, and put it right!
Lets make this a communal, friendly space!!!
Heart, hugs n kisses, luvya! Smiley face!!!!!

The News In Poetry Day 9: Her Name Was Lucy Meadows

http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/mobileweb/2013/03/21/primary-school-teacher-miss-lucy-meadows_n_2926166.html?utm_hp_ref=uk

This poem is about a tragedy, and about the role the British press played.

Her name was Lucy Meadows, and she died
Alone and in despair because of hate.
Oh journalists who mocked her life, and lied
So pained and solemn, now that it’s too late.

Yet even now, you cannot get it right:
Her name was Lucy Meadows. She was “she”.
You hounded her, and took away her right
To be the woman she was born to be.

You said the children “wouldn’t understand”.
That Lucy’s truth would only cause them pain.
She died. Her blood still wet upon your hands,
Go to her grieving pupils, and explain.

The change we seek is faint and distant yet.
Her name was Lucy Meadows. Don’t forget.

The News in Poetry Day 8: The Least Of These My Brethren

I’m not a Christian, but I quite like some of the teachings; mostly the ones that get ignored.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/9945791/Christian-guesthouse-owners-find-way-to-carry-on-banning-gay-couples.html

When you turn us away in Christ’s name,

Remember the gentle soul
With a lot of male companions
Whose best friend was a whore.

The one who told you not to judge:
You just slammed the door in his face
Offering respite to the hateful

From a fairer world.

The News In Poetry Day 7: Budget

Most of the news sites have got speculation about the UK budget announcement.
Poetry form fans may recognize this poem as a Bop. For some reason I really like this form for having a go at the government.

We whisper amongst ourselves
Cackling with false mirth then
Brooding over the fact
We’d all like to forget.
Today we’re going to find out
What he’s decided.

So, will it be chicken feed or the axe?

We all know the axe has to fall somewhere.
But lately it seems like
The farmer doesn’t know what he’s doing
When fat, fine fowls gorge on golden grain.
And half grown chicks peck hopelessly at dust.
You’d think it would be obvious
Who should fear the glint of steel.
No. Not any more.

So, will it be chicken feed or the axe?

There’s chatter of resistance, even revolution
But what can half starved birds do
When those fat fowls among us
Who gorge on golden grain each day
Think the farmer is a fine fellow
With our best interests at heart?

So, will it be the chicken feed or the axe?

The News In Poetry Day 6: Battle Hymn Of The Hacks

So, the political parties managed to agree on a charter for press regulation, but the newspaper companies are not playing.

Arise, ye editors and journalists!
Arise and let the shackles of oppression
Fall down in pieces from your honest wrists!
And fight the power with fury and aggression!

Your human rights are being taken from you!
They want you to do something you don’t like!
In times like this the onus is upon you
To teach us all a lesson: go on strike!

Your right to hound celebrities is sacred
To twist the truth to match your readers views,
Take secret pics of women when they’re naked:
It’s not invaded privacy, it’s news!

So take a stand. Refuse to carry on!
I doubt we’ll really miss you when you’re gone.

The News In Poetry Day 5: The Deep

Today, a science story.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-21806406

If I were an organism living in the Mariana Trench I’d be like Doc Brown when the Libyan terrorists show up in Back To The Future.

Oh my God They found me I don t know how but they found me

It is dead down here.

There is nothing you can use.

Stay where you belong.

We do not want you.

Your metal boxes sinking

Down into our realm

Are most unwelcome.

You destroy the life you find.

Leave us in the dark.

The News In Poetry Day 4: Steubenville

They said she was drunk
As if that made the crime
Somehow less appalling

They said she agreed
But she only remembered
Being led away, vomiting.

She was preyed on like meat
She was used like a toy.
They said she was willing.

Then they said she was raped.
And they punished the men
Who have caused her a lifetime of hurt.

For a year.