Poetry - January 2004

Wake Up Channel 4

Seven days of staying awake
Watch everyone struggle to keep their eyes open
Display them all in a glass case
A large dose of boring reality
That is presented twenty four hours a day
On our television screens
Oh how it bores me
To see people doing anything
To be famous for fifteen minutes
Are they stupid or are they mad?
Do they not realise no one cares?
Well I don't, let's put it like this
There's too much so-called reality
That is in fact anything but
And yet there they are six days in
Still making sure their eyes don't shut

(Some original programming might be nice, instead of more yawnsworthy reality television, thank you.)

One Day

One day the world will have no wars
One day there will be no unjust cause
One day everyone will wake up to themselves
One day the USA would stop thinking it's so important
One day tuition fees in the UK will be free again
One day everyone will drop the euro
One day no one will care about their worries
One day violent crime will go away
One day there will be no child pornography
One day religion will have no meaning at all
One day Tony Blair will get his due comeuppance
One day will be the day that I won't have to think of all the above.

(I can wish, can't I?)


I turn in my bed and I know that it's dark
But yet there's so much insomnia in my mind
I can't think or concentrate for a moment
Nothing tires me enough to need to sleep
But I glance at the clock and I see the time
I know I need a few hours in the land of nod
I have work in the morning and I need to be up
But yet the darkened skies don't indicate anything
I walk about half in a daze somehow
Trying to make sense of all this bother
And inside I just am a maze of confusion
As I attempt to try and return to the slumber.

(Some days and nights are just like this. I should learn to accept them.)


Did anyone care at school
About what algebra was meant for
Did it have any use in society
Or was it just so sort the clever from the dunces
Because you had to understand it first
I always thought it was a waste of time
X divided by y equals z and all that
And yet I was actually pretty good at maths.

(Algebra. Like, why?)

The Daily Routine

Get the 105
Get me a Megarider
Off to town I go

On the 105
Past the Southern Cemetery
Heading into town

Off the 105
At Piccadilly Gardens
Now to walk to work

End the day at work
On the 105 again
And back home I go

(Dedicated to those who commute from Northenden to Manchester every day)