Tuesday, 21 May 2013

Tyrants come Tyrants Go,Where? We all Know... History!

Tyrants come, tyrants go,
they blow, erupting words of fire,
Spouting; Red hot rhetoric,
Hatred; are they sick?

Weapons firing in the air,
Where bullets of hate land? they don't care.
Spreading hate in tyrannical rage,
banging fists upon their stage.

Hating, Ranting Tyrant, roaring Bull,
Giving us a good earful.
The flag of hate is flying high,
woe betide those who don't comply.

War is declared, many die,
many maimed, many cry.
The Tyrants ranting days soon done,
killed in anger, by bomb or gun.

Changing Times.

 There'd been a war
we were poor.
Hand me down
we didn't frown.
Not new; but clean.
No money, not mean.

Flat caps for lads,
one of dads.
Girls in mums skirt,
Boys in dads shirt.
Violins? Its sad?
No not that bad.

No pleasure?
No pressure!
Make do and mend,
No up to date trend.
A stitch in time,
saved Mam nine.

No pressure,
all pleasure!
Grew our own food,
it tasted good.

No credit,
No debit.
We didn't complain,
No cars, just a bus, sometimes a train.

Grew up, its Rock,
parents in shock.
Rock and Roll,
Blues and all that jazz.
Punk and other razzmatazz.

Young no more,
Grim Reaper rapping on the door.
Today we have Rap,
I'm in a generation gap.
Left behind without a map.

Friday, 17 May 2013

The Whistle Blowers Days.

Oh how the mighty fall,
few now walk tall,
Some fiddled expenses, some fiddled with girls,
grinning bedecked with bling, gold teeth and pearls.

MPs, Celeb's, Newspaper Hacks.
Some of em flashers in gaberdine macs.
Some slandering people who won't give a story
making up tales so nasty and gory.

You watch my back I'll watch yours,
Don't let our secret go out of these doors.
Aha! there's a mole, he's been underground,
he's now a whistle blower, his scruples are sound.

Another Mole, in velvety suit,
smart, intelligent, astute.
Two whistle blowers who can be believed,
Victims and Constituents are now relieved.

More whistle blowers, they can't be ignored.
whistles are screeching, Oh my Lord.
You shouldn't be crooked, your a Lord of the Realm,
A member of Parliament should be at the helm.

Celebs should be celebrated, not Vile and reviled,
Worse than animals out in the wild.
Free speech when true,
not that words suit only you.

At last they are falling from their high perches,
Hypocrites, Thieve's, perverts; even in churches.
Scum of the earth they floated on top,
now they're at the bottom Slop;
and! A top Cop.

Oh how the mighty fall,
 they no longer walk tall.
They  are down and out.
Victims were brave enough to shout.

Some may be dead, some may be old,
Who would have known?
without whistle blowers...
So Bold!