They could be aliens - Tony Bradley

I was in the park with my nephew Vincent
he's my Godson too, he's nearly four
he's growing up well, sensible, grounded
healthy and happy, you couldn't ask for more.

Way up in the sky,he saw a long-haul jet
guessing, I'd say Amsterdam to Madrid
he said "They're aliens, I think", I saw an old lady wink
we both knew he never really did.

But for a minute, it made me wonder
just who the passengers really were
M.D.'s of global organizations . . . heading
for a half-year summit, to cause a stir . ..

Some hi-tech whiz kids, with fiscal figures,
with programs and data of trends and percentage
with innovative graphics of their pro-active thrust
and apps. attached to their almost every appendage.

Film director types, with their latest protege
and fashion gurus of dubious gender
haute couture models, who could sit three to a seat
they're so lifeless, limp and abnormally slender.

As the jet disappeared in dusky clouds
with all its occupants, into the night
we went home, for Nature Watch, and tea
"Yeah, mate," I said, "you're probably right."

Tony Bradley

Don't Doggy Doo - Donald Keyman

The dog piss crucifix stains the street
Marking the place that Rover will s(h)it
Straining over his yellow river
He defecates with a violent shiver

Oh I'm sorry is that he a she?
I only saw the stream of pee
My, what a sweet and charming pup
Goodness, you'll have to pick that up!

Why can't you see that your doggy's poo
Will stick to an unsuspecting shoe?
People will thank you and think it super
If you invested in a pooper scooper

Tell me why I fear being thumped
For remarking that your mutt has dumped?
Take the excrement from man's best friend
And flush it down your own U-bend!

Do you not somehow perceive it wrong
To cover the thoroughfare in bestial dung?
Is it the animal, or the owner, who
Is to blame for all this doggy-doo?

Pray wait sir, why do you walk on by
Now that your pet has made his pie?
Yes, grab your doggy's pile of cack
And put it in your plastic sack

Now surely you cannot think that right
Just to abandon your pooch's shite?
Leaving that stool all neatly wrapped
In the place that Fido crapped

I know I'm like a dog with bone
I feel it anti-social to have to moan
But who decreed that beasts all furred
Could coat the paths with sticky turd?

So - don't leave it there out in the street
All packaged up like some shiny treat
We all deserve clean paths to roam
Please take your canine faeces home!

Donald Keyman

Death Is My Shadow - Lyndon Queripel

Death is my shadow
It keeps following me
Down on the corner
Out on the street
Cast like a spell
Beneath my feet
When will I be free

Death is my shadow
It sits on my shoulder
No matter where I go
At each and every turn
The rocks might melt
And the sea may burn
Before I get much older

Death is my shadow
Extreme so it seems
I've tried everything
I can't shake it loose
I fight to sleep at night
But there is no use
It even haunts my dreams

Death is my shadow
It stays close behind
And if I stop and stare
It all looks so black
But I know that it's there
Whenever I look back
From the edge of my mind

Lyndon Queripel

Negativity Poem - Chris Hudson

Bad People
They Swear a lot
They don’t Care a lot
They Spam a lot
They Jam a lot.
Bad People
The don’t Give a jot
They Live a-Blot
They’re Often shot
They Haven’t got.
Bad People
Smoking Pot
Shout A lot
With Junk besot
Been Here since dot
Bad People.

Chris Hudson

Again - Trudie Shannon

There’s no point in writing words
Of sorrow, disbelief and pain,
It happens again and again and again.
Someone’s child and someone’s child and someone’s child
Dead in the name of some Cause,
Dead in the name of some God
Dead, in some kind of global insanity.
The reality:
We only have one world,
There is only one humanity.

Trudie Shannon

Battle Ensues - Sharon Dando

I feel you
waiting, watching
ready to catch me when I fall

I know you are there
waiting to envelop me
grip me tight and not let me go
I could run from you
but I don't have the strength
you are stronger than I ever could be

I want to fight you
I need you to go now
repeating my mantra
tomorrow is another day
the tunnel light fades
your arms embrace me
a strong hold

I am yours yet again

Sharon Dando

Good News Doesn't Sell Newspapers - Lester Queripel

'Good news doesn't sell newspapers' the journalist said.
His words ran around inside my head.
He said 'Drama sells newspapers not good news'.
'In that case' I said 'We have opposing views'.
'We never tell lies' he emphasised.
'But we do occasionally sensationalise'.
'But' said I 'You misquoted me and I'm asking for an apology'.
'No can do' said he.

'But there are people out there who believe what they've read.
What you printed wasn't what I said.
Now I'm being challenged out in the community.
That's why I'm asking for an apology.
You have damaged my reputation.
For the sake of drama and sensation'.

He sighed 'You could of course write in and complain.
On the grounds that you say we've tarnished your name'.
'But how long' I asked 'Will it take for that to be addressed?'
'Ohhh' he replied 'A couple of months at best'.
'By which time' I said 'The damage is done.
And once again the paparazzi have won'.
So the moral of the story I ask you to heed.
Is please don't believe all that you read.

Lester Queripel

Driving Ambition - Jerry Hattrick

I’m hard of hearing and bat-blind,
with a stiff arthritic shoulder
and the slow, painful reactions
of some one a great deal older,
not to mention nervous twitching
and persistent chronic itching.
Bits of me are red and swollen,
other bits have ceased to function.
I’m less mobile by a long chalk
than a train stuck at a junction.
While others sing and dance and leap,
I just nod off and fall asleep.
My chest wheezes, my knees wobble
and I get peculiar visions:
voices, disembodied voices,
help me cope with my decisions.
When getting drunk or getting high,
sometimes I think that I can fly.
One leg’s shorter than the other,
my right hand jumps like a lizard.
Just to make me halfway normal,
would, for certain, take a wizard.
Chronic pain with every step, see.
Did I mention, epilepsy?

So to manage these afflictions
I have turned to gin and whiskey
but I take heart medication
so strong alcohol is risky.
Thank God though, life’s still starry,
when I race my red Ferrari.

Jerry Hattrick

Their Day Will Last Forever - Trudie Shannon

Upon the summer soft shimmering air,
There are voices, fleet of foot calling invisibly.
And suddenly my own childhood re-emerges shyly
To sit quietly upon the yawning gate, observing.

Swiftly kinesthetic memories activate
To clamber and to climb compelling trees,
Rough rock faces and granite walls
To jump fearlessly from a million miles high
Into puddles and stinking tomato stalks.
To dunk small fingers into the hearts of jellyfish
And sugar bowls and cream
To capture cabous quicksilver flashes
And flies and grasshoppers
To feel sand between toes inside plimsolls
And salt from the sea drying on skin
And bathers, wet a zillion times, dry going home, clothes in the bag.

I take a breath and open my eyes.
Childhood has slipped from the gate.
The evening air is still warm and I know,
For the children shrieking happily,
Bather clad, on the swings
Their day will somehow, magically never end.

Trudie Shannon

The Youth App - Ian Duquemin

The children of a modern day
Are locked inside a darkened tomb
No longer outside will they play
Their world is now a messy room
Technology has "Caught" them well
Their view a HD TV screen
The world outside it must be hell
Without a pixel in the scene
Fingers tap away on keys
No conversation that of tongue
They concentrate on their disease
The "Apple" that caused wrong
On every day just like the last
They need an app to concentrate
The children of a distant past
Were spared then of their fate
But what will happen in the end?
When idiots control the earth
On them all others shall depend
To teach all those from birth
Then what will children grow to be?
An app? A game? Or something new?
I hope that I shall never see
What future holds for you

Ian Duquemin

Brexit - Donald Keyman

The worm has turned on Project Fear
to smash the European idea
but now it's "gone Pete Tong"
they're telling us the vote was wrong

and fearful now some people agree
that they voted out - but can see
that a beer in the Costa del Sol
will cost them more, wtf, lol

The misled voted to be pure
but the borders won't be more secure
the EU monster is still there
wounded slightly in its lair

Cameron's made us look like fools
we can't escape free movement rules
so many lies were told on both sides
in the end our brains were fried

The PM trowelled on the sincerity
"Let me be clear" he stated ominously
"a careless vote in Clacton-on-Sea
could easily spark off World War Three"

Michael and Boris, his hair in a muss
seemed surprised that they hadn't lost
"50 million quid a day - it wasn't us
who wrote that on the campaign bus"

Jeremy found the task too Sisyphean
he never wanted to be European
but his party forced him to pretend
that Jean-Claude Juncker was his friend

Nigel, Nigel where to start?
welcome as an unwanted fart
for laughing in the EU's faces
they turned and said he was a racist

Now Nicola looks to seize the chance
to renew the old alliance with France
it seems that poor "Wee Burney"
is determined to continue on her journey

So consider the massive irony
people want to come here to be free
to join in with a democracy
that won't let them cross the sea

Donald Keyman