Poetry - April 2023

Stopping The Snooker

It's time to protest again
As our environment crumbles into ruin
But where shall we go to next
That will have people viewing?
Well there's always an event in Sheffield
That's on every single year
Where we could do damage to the table
And make the play disappear
So one evening session
We've got tickets for each table
We can try and get on there
And be quick and be able
You glue yourself to the pocket
And I'll have some orange dust
We'll work past the security
Because we've got them sussed
On we go straight away
And cause our disruption
Which means we'll be on telly
But face so much anger at our action.

(You wouldn't expect a protest group to target the snooker, but because of the sponsorship being a car company, that's what happened at the World Snooker Championship. Fine, target the sponsor but why not go to their head office instead of spoiling people's hard earned cash to go to the Crucible? And as someone who is all too aware of the climate emergency, snooker is a pretty green sport - there's others to go at instead.)

Tearing Cockneys Apart, Again

It's a game they call the title decider
And for me it's off to the Etihad
As Manchester City face Arsenal
And if we win, I shall be very glad
The game may set the tone
For the rest of the Premier League season
But Arsenal aren't top by accident
And have been winning games for fun
I always thought the first goal was crucial
And it happened to be a superb KDB goal
That settled us down wonderfully
And made sure that we were in pole
Another goal followed just before half time
As John Stones headed in well
We thought it may have been offside
But VAR came to the rescue, to tell
That actually it was a perfectly timed run
And so into half time two to the good
It made me settle down a bit
This nervousness doesn't do me no good
City went forward and went for it
Kevin de Bruyne scored another great strike
We were passing it around for fun
And doing what the hell that we'd like
Arsenal came forward and made changes
They did manage to score a good goal
But that meant we wanted to finish it off
And when Phil Foden passed the ball
Who else but Erling Haaland to finish
Meaning that we had won again
And singing along to Joy Division
City, tearing Cockneys apart, again.

(Definitely felt like a massive win for me as a Manchester City fan, and rightly so.)

On The Wrong Bus

The X68 arrives at Waterloo Road
It's the last stop before West Norwood
You know someone will get on
Who doesn't realise this bus for them isn't good
There's the announcement from the driver
That this is an express bus service
But with their headphones blaring out
They just simply take no notice
As the bus heads along Brixton Road
The realisation has hit that person
They meant to get the 68 towards Herne Hill
But you're on the wrong bus, my son
You need to wait until West Norwood
And get the 68 back the other way
It's something you'll learn hopefully
And that you've learnt, the hard way.

(I see so many people on the X68 express bus in central London not realise it's an express, and then panic as they realise they've hit Brixton and gone completely the wrong way. Lesson learned for some, but still each day someone else gets on incorrectly..)

Showroom Dummy

Blank expression on plastic face
It never seems to change
It just fronts designer clothes
That you possibly can't afford
Same expression in another window
Looking faceless and bland
Having no genitals and designer abreasts
That plastic generated woman
She has nothing to worry about
No humanity within, just a front
For all the expenses in life.

(Inspired to write this after listening to Showroom Dummies by Kraftwerk.)

Spring Cat Haiku

Brian likes to be
Outside in the springtime sun
Preening his big paws.

(Brian the cat loves a good little playtime out in the sun where he can preen his paws for the enjoyment of it. Because he can.)