Money Tree - Donald Keyman

another day another scam 
not just by people on the lam 
a wall, a movie, a culture centre 
grants and handouts to the highest tender 

this film needs money to start shooting 
(not quite as much as the Lagan looting) 
though that would make a tasty screenplay 
with disaster lurking just an email away 

to get more people to visit these parts 
they'll spaff more money on the arts 
Hugo this, Hugo that, spend more cash 
it's just more mindless balderdash 

rattling around on broken roads 
are we the envy of the toads 
or are these islands just the same 
with politicians just as lame?  

Donald Keyman

Image : Pixabay - mohamed_hassan

Pie In The Sky - Donald Keyman

When your family can’t be fed
And it’s almost cheaper to be dead
You take stock and wonder why
Our leaders all want pie in the sky

Their ludicrously grandiose schemes
Will rip the purse at its seams
Looking for money we don’t have
Cos it was spent by Uncle Gav

They want a shining mini Monaco
Where only the moneyed rich can go
For tax-free fuel and their super yachts
While the proletariat can only watch

Grandstanding in the House they boast
Of their imaginary tunnel on the coast
An airport that can handle B-52s;
It’s a shopping list writ by fools

Donald Keyman


Image : Guernseypoets/Pixabay - pierre9x6

Just Stop - Donald Keyman

Vlad has woken from his slumbers
Out into the world he blunders
He can’t see that things have changed
He stares madly, wild, deranged

He must have been asleep for years
Immune to all the cries and tears
Belligerent stranger in this new world
He finds an old flag to unfurl

The neighbours know not to underrate
Vlad’s temper and his hate
So they leave what they were dreaming of
To make another box of molotovs

Donald Keyman


Image : Pixabay - David_Peterson

Confession To A Murder - Donald Keyman

To a woodland glade 
with a brand new spade 
in the middle of the night
I know that it’s not right
I’ve claimed one more
I’m beyond the law
You better stop me soon
From playing my tune
But maybe it’s too late
Here comes the middle eight
There’s a deadly toll
In that grassy knoll 
They’re beside the tracks
I’m hazy on the facts
But you did your best
It’s lucky I confessed

Donald Keyman

Image : Pixabay - jarmoluk

Eco Meeting - Donald Keyman

St Greta of Thunberg 
Stared cold as an iceberg 
At the men in suits 
Who didn’t give two hoots  
About the eco crisis 
Any more than Isis 
Harangued by a minor 
Who didn’t mention China 
They dug in their heels  
Against her childish squeals 
Built more cars and sealed 
Fossil burning deals 
And, way out east 
Launched a coal-fired beast 

Donald Keyman


Image : Pixabay - tiburi

Bad Sports - Donald Keyman

They’ll take the knee but not the needle
As on the pitch they whine and wheedle
They like to think that they’re the best
Above being jabbed like all the rest

A vaccination ref? - it’s so unfair
I’d rather go and style my hair
I’ve no time to get that appointment in
I’m gonna take my Bentley for a spin

With everything that we have learned
You’d think that they would be concerned
About the deadly threat of the viral strain
When a gentle tap has them writhing in pain

Donald Keyman


Image : Pixabay - shauking

Mound - Donald Keyman

They built that mound in London Town
For the traffic to drive around
Resembling a power station made of peat
It’s at the end of Oxford Street
This carbuncle covered in wizened crops
Is supposed to lure you back to the shops
It looks such a sickly threadbare hill
It’s as if the gardeners lost the will
To make it look like the rolling dales
They settled for a slag heap from south Wales
It’s supposed to be a piece of statement art
To warm the Nation’s jaded heart
Instead we look and ask each other this:
“Is it Banksy taking the piss?”

Donald Keyman

Image : splashnews/Daily Mail

In Vino Veritas - Donald Keyman

Did your grape expectations wither on the vine?
Were you undercut by supermarkets every single time?
Or have people changed their ways - only drinking kombucha tea
I don’t know what it is either but it sounds good to me...

Was it the lack of parking, or business acumen
Perhaps you did not cater for the beer drinking men?
Did you stock Prosecco, the flavour of the month
Or just shelves of Côtes du Rhône and dusty Crème de menthe?

Donald Keyman

Well-Heeled - Donald Keyman

With not a twinge of guilt
In designer house custom built
Virtue signallers one and all
Watching the poor go to the wall
Vapid celebs with no sense of shame
Pose for selfies by a private pool again
They’ve got everything they could ever want
Off the back off their silicon front
On the red carpet at a Hollywood bash
Urging the poor to give all their cash
Their hypocrisy makes me sick
They must think we’re flipping thick.

Donald Keyman

Image : Pixabay - Engin Akyurt

Tunnel Vision - Donald Keyman

King Gavin has been banished from the palace
For refusing to accept the poison chalice
For he and wise old Soulsby knew
That the virus would still get through
Brought in by people who are exempt
Who treat the rules with pure contempt
The essential worker back from holiday
Has an unwanted souvenir of their stay
Just like Carter’s mummy’s curse
But this one’s real and much worse
Questions need to be answered quick
Before the rest of us all get sick
The silence smacks of cover up
Are they waiting for the penny to drop
That the reason more people might die
Is the businessman in his suit and tie?

Donald Keyman

Hinge - Donald Keyman

This tiny nation

More than the sum

Of its parts

Sits on the

Hinge of history

Watching the men

Of dark arts

Becoming more insular

Than even the

People of these

Battered shores

Ever dared to be


Donald Keyman

Depps of Depravity - Donald Keyman

I must admit I’ve hardly slept
Waiting for the latest dirt on Johnny Depp
Another day of lurid pages
Filled with tales of coke-fuelled rages
Is there a drug he didn’t do
Well, ketamine - he denies that too
Love and hate together can go
Sometimes it takes two to tango
For a prank the missus said
That she defecated in the bed
How did things get that sick
Was she bored of his pirate schtick?
The lawyers rub their hands in glee
Every day means a bigger fee
His legacy can’t be a major factor
Let's admit he's not a great actor
Forever now he’ll look back in anger
At these memories - preserved in Amber

Donald Keyman
Image: ©Anders L. Damgaard

I Don’t Like Crickets ~ Oh No! - Donald Keyman

The scaly cricket is an ugly critter
It likes to live amongst organic litter
It’s not as rare as you might think
They swarm around on beaches that stink
And where on earth would you suppose
You’d find smelly beaches such as those
They’re all up in the north you see
Covered in the spoils of our industry
That prehistoric looking beast
Of all our worries is the least
Is it a dilemma that should be faced
If we need somewhere for inert waste
Surely it’s worth a few more insects less
To get rid of all our building mess?
And so controversially to you I say
Tip the stuff into that bay!

Donald Keyman

Covidiocy - Donald Keyman

Am I one, one of the seventy-three?
Waiting by the phone ever so anxiously
Checking my temperature and my sense of taste
If I’m about to die I’d like to see my killer’s face
To check for empathy and some sense of shame
A realisation of the gravity of their selfish game

It seems highly unlikely that they lived alone
It could have been your lodger or you perhaps used their phone
Did anyone not realise there was a spreader in their midst
Maybe you lived with them or were someone that they kissed
You might well have taken their empty glass to the bar
Helping to spread that virus to people near and far

The exponential potential of your actions cannot be ignored
You need to ask yourself if it was a luxury we cannot afford
A text message arrives it’s from the States again
Telling us to obey the rules if we’ve half a brain
I still don’t yet know if I’m one of the seventy-three
Waiting all alone to gasp for air and die needlessly

Donald Keyman

Vote Vote Vote - Donald Keyman

We’re on the slippery slope oh yeah
To a Marxist Utopia
Equality for all sounds nice
But it comes at a huge price

The back of an envelope oh yeah
Holds the plan for the Marxist Utopia
No time must be lost
Before we all count the cost

It’s money for old rope oh yeah
To peddle that Marxist Utopia
And slowly bankrupt the place
So it can no longer wash its face

Surely there’s still hope oh yeah
That we reject the Marxist Utopia
Head off those eco-fascists
With their sackcloth and ashes

So get out and vote oh yeah
But not for a Marxist Utopia
Vote for the people who care
Not to leave the cupboard bare

Donald Keyman

HRH (retired) - Donald Keyman

Cry for Prince Harry I’ll not shed a tear
His protection will cost us dear
But the only crown he’ll ever wear
Is his ring of monk-like hair

I find it hard to sympathise
With someone who gets free chopper rides
To his bolt-hole on the coast
Where lovely Meg will butter his toast

He’s done good work it cannot be denied
It seems he won’t toss that aside
But he’s bored of flunkies and Royal sages
And prying tabloids with their lurid pages

One day maybe we'll see him back
With Archie readied for the flak
And in these times where everyone wins
Wills and Harry will be joint kings

Donald Keyman

Schooly McSchoolface - Donald Keyman

Lisia, Lesia, which one is easier?
Are both of them not barmier
Than good old Sarnia?

Lisia, Lesia, are they not both uselesser
Than the people who have made
A school without grades?

Lisia, Lesia, which do you prefer?
The question they'd never ask
Until it was answered by Craske

Donald Keyman

Paper Weight - Donald Keyman

Another day another report
That's all your hard-earned taxes bought
The States have squandered all your wealth
On consultant's words for a dusty shelf

No day goes by without a suggestion
To spend some more on a new investigation
Shall we look into a brand new harbour
Or find ways to use less carbon?

Any idea must of course be contested
And in multiple papers our cash invested
But who can tell if a plan is attractive
When half the document is redacted?

We can only watch as the deadline slips
At least we can use it to wrap our chips
As the experts trouser their heap of bread
The massive tome remains unread

Donald Keyman

Site of Special Insignificance - Donald Keyman

I went looking for Cobo Alice
outside the gates of a wondrous palace
I got the feeling that time had been unfrozen
in a major case of inland coastal erosion

Is no-one in planning listening to Greta
don't they want to make our world better
Their strategies will only make things worse
a built-up world that's less biodiverse

As the fields are ploughed one last time
for the developer's harvest of mortar and lime
Guernsey has its curtilage redrawn
into a concrete garden complete with asphalt lawn

Donald Keyman

The Crown's Jewel - Donald Keyman

Sarnia Cherie drowns in a shining plastic sea
A sinking seafront of supermarket hegemony
The once glittering jewel tarnished by trade
A place where coffees and sandwiches are made

Burdened by laws that no one will enforce
These are the days of cart before horse
The rubbish piles high on old Guernsey streets
And cannot be cleared by stickers and tweets

The Government lives in its navel-gazing bubble
Waiting for the latest code of conduct squabble
But the vultures are waiting, out in the wings
They’re tired of dealing with Brexity things

They're coming for us, old Mitchell and Hodge
Hell-bent on delivering their constitutional fudge
So now it’s time to save old Sarnia Cherie
To polish and harden the gem of the sea

Donald Keyman