History Lesson - Andrew Barham

That bright moment in Our shared History
When young people everywhere
Caught fire with an ideal sometime in the 60s,
Letting go, as they let down their hair
Of all the tired old rules and conventions,
Dancing in the street to a rock n roll beat:
New poetry, art and music – the invention
Of mixed media, back then, a novel treat
And all while promoting a philosophy
Of Peace, Love and Harmony,
"For we are all one," they said, "Join us in unity."

Since that long ago golden moment
Hatred and intolerance have returned
And when I look around I can only lament,
Wondering if, after all, we have ever learned
How to live together with each other.
When will we begin to see each other as we are?
Under the disguises we wear, we are all brothers
Sharing in the same universal despair.
I can feel your sadness reflected in your eyes
As you labour under your burden of care
Down deep where I can hear your hidden cries.

Yet, I can't forebear to confess
That I too have begun to feed off the growing hate
Whene'er I contemplate the sorry mess
We've made – the lamentable state
Of our shared world and our common affairs:
The people who lead us and should set an example
For us all to follow, have only led us to despair
As upon every good thing we've built they trample
Grinding us down, stamping our faces into the dirt –
For they have brought us to a new world without care
For the lost ones fallen by the wayside they've hurt.

Greed, selfishness and the forlorn pursuit of money
Have replaced the harmony of peace love and understanding;
Their promised land is not the land of milk and honey:
It is the empty state of endless demanding.
'Where will it go? Where does their ranked equation trend?'
I wonder as I gaze ahead into the murky distance,
'Is this a new beginning or have we finally reached the end?'
For I see only unending desolation wherever I glance.
Can we return to that bright promise of an era vanquished?
For if we don't get back to that blissful state of human unity
The equation's solution is that we will languish
In the Hell we've made for all Eternity.

Andrew Barham

Untitled - Chris Hudson

Carried on a dragon’s back
Into oncoming clouds
The ground is very far away
Hear the thunder’s loud!
The tail writhes and flashes
The wings are sunblinks
Underneath the dragon’s belly
Unsteady sways the rider’s seat
Catch a vision as moon and stars flit past
This dragon’s path is lit
With a glistening white
The moon’s pale face reflects upon the day’s heat;

The path turns red beneath
The blood seeps slowly forth
All is agony, the dragon’s slain
And slides into the earth again
Amidst this faerie construction
Of images complete.

Chris Hudson

Splendor - Kathy Figueroa

A grand council of trees
Stood majestic, serene
Heavy laden with snow
Beautiful and pristine

And I felt reverence
For such a peaceful scene
And awe at the splendor
Of a tall evergreen
Kathy Figueroa

Reality - Diane Scantlebury

Quick put the kettle on
Make a cup of tea,
Earthquakes and tsunamis
Are all yesterday’s news,
Hurry can’t miss the next episode
Of “reality”
Who will win?
Who will lose?
It’s OK our conscience is clear,
We saw the appeal
We’ve given our donation,
So let’s spend more
To cast our votes,
To choose the new, latest talent
Of the nation,
Who cares about the real world outside?
Press the red button
It’ll do no harm,
Until another disaster intrudes,
We’re happy on our sofas
Oblivious, cosy and warm.

Diane Scantlebury

New Year Celebrations - Ros Willard

I wish I could jump on a magic broom
and not have to stay in my boring bed-room.

I’d fly round the world to greet the new year
from Papua New Guinea to Tanzania.

In a house adorned with bamboo in Japan
I’d laugh, hear the bells and wave a red fan.

In Spain I’d eat grapes at each midnight chime
to ensure that next year is a happy time.

In Denmark I’d join boys and girls throwing plates
on the snow-covered doorsteps of their best mates.

In Sweden I’d have a big glass of glogg
to wash down a slice of chocolate Yule log.

Gentle St Basil, with his gift of peace,
would visit me when I arrived in Greece.

I’d zoom in and out of the London Eye
watching the fireworks light up the sky.

In Rio, O! what a sight it would be –
a boat laden with flowers pushed out to sea.

I’d help build a scarecrow in Ecuador,
watch him being torched and hear the flames roar.

Lastly, I’d see the ball drop in Times Square
and pick bits of ticker tape out of my hair

before flying back to my cosy bed
and waking next morning to the year ahead.

Ros Willard