Rotten Borough – dVerse

I want to connect with you, deep down inside

but I’m deeply disturbed by your tissue of lies,

in front of others, you’re polished and sleek –

you manage to obscure just what hides beneath.

You’ve done it before, the veneer has been fine

and your gift of the gab has played tricks with my mind.

You’ve courted, persuaded, played to my tune,

dazzled and sparkled, my energy’s consumed.

Resistance is futile, you believe in your power

whilst my boat of lost hope is bound to founder

on rocks of persuasion; as politicians stand

I can’t help but wondering – are we all damned?

IMG_1541

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This week, on dVerse Meeting the Bar, Karin has asked us to write in slant, or near rhyme, which I enjoy both reading, and writing. I’m posting early and linking up to Karin’s post later, as I will be hot-footing it to the polling station to vote in the European elections. As you can see from my poem, I do wonder at the sanity of it all, but better to vote than not at all, that’s not in question. My personal politics, other than ones I have shared before on the future of our planet are not for here, but I imagine you have a fair idea of the sorts of things I really can’t abide.

By the way, the title of my piece, ‘Rotten Borough’, is the name that was used for parliamentary boroughs or constituencies in the UK which had a very small electorate and could be used by a patron to gain undue influence in the House of Commons until the Reform Act of 1832, which disenfranchised them. For example, Old Sarum in Wiltshire had 3 house, 7 voters and 2 Members of Parliament! See Wikipedia for more examples!

Please pop over to dVerse to see how others have risen to the slant rhyme challenge – I will be hooking up and linking up later!

 

 

Mercury

They say that we worshipped the sun once –

bared our skin and lay for hours, motionless

except to turn and baste, baste, baste

like hog-roasts rotating on spits,

English rose complexions transformed to copper.

 

They say that we feared the winter then –

covered our bodies in chemically engineered layers,

refusing to let the crisp air penetrate,

wishing the dark days away,

as if time was ours to discard

with no consequences.

 

They say all this.

The world must have been different then.

———

Inspiration

‘Snow can lift my heart in a way that sunshine never could.

I have waited, and you have come
Martine McDonagh

———-

This week, on dVerse Poetics, Mary asks us to write poetry inspired by quotations – or by a photo, or by a headline in a newspaper, or, or, or… let’s get inspired!

I have used a quotation from one of my favourite dystopian novels, ‘I have waited, and you have come’ by Martine McDonagh. I highly recommend it! My poem is set in a future where the sun is to be feared, not welcomed…

Please pop over to dVerse to see how others have risen to the challenge!

 

 

Remembrance Day – for Combat Stress

I was not just enshrined in black and white
trained to react to a whistle
and launch myself over the top
I didn’t just stare at No Man’s Land
jumping at every falling leaf
nerves shot to pieces, trembling with fear
I was not just shipped hastily to Europe
attempting to aid our Allies
in facing down the Nazi machine
I was not just despatched to the Mediterranean
sand-whipped and sweating
to fight in a theatre far flung from home
I am not a romantic notion of old boys and idealism
telling war stories of camaraderie
I am not decades past.
I am the young man hobbling down the street
I am the hands held out for a bit of spare change
I am the woman bound to a wheelchair
I am the mental health patient facing down the day
I am sitting next to you on the bus.
I am here.
Remember, I am here.

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I first wrote this poem for Remembrance Day last November, but I noticed that Monday 12th May 2014 marks 95 years since an amazing UK charity, Combat Stress, has been helping armed forces veterans overcome mental illness. I (or Freya’s real-life, living, breathing, alter-ego) will be making a donation to this charity, because it is vitally important that their work continues. In World War One, some soldiers were put on trial, even executed, for desertion and cowardice when exhibiting symptoms of shell shock, or what we now know to be PTSD. People who volunteer their lives for us should be given all the help they can get. I hope you will spread the word.