Why does a country
Of such wealth
Wage war on itself?
When will the gun
Cease to be fun?

How many must die?
How many must cry
Before the gun is banned
From this powerful land?

We can’t comprehend
Where it will end
This violent flood,
This thirst for blood.

Is there no one tough
Who can say “Enough!”
No body strong who
will lead?
Or must the U.S A.
Continue to bleed?



If the best we can do
Is the least we shall do
Then we’ll fear not
The popular spite.
We will do everything in
our power to do
To make everything alright.

When we face all the scorn
That might come our way,
We will try to resolve
What some can’t.
And we’ll say all the things
We’ve been meaning to say.
We shall not betray him
We shan’t.

If our motives are good
That is reason enough
To be out of accepted domain.
He is among those who are
Finding it tough.
We are sharing each other’s pain.

If all we can do
Is the most we can do,
Then our heads can be held up high.
We understand and we know
That he too, together with
us will try.


Staying in touch
Is getting too much
With the mobile phone.
Eyes on the screen.
What does this mean?
We’re together, yet alone.

When in the street
Do we still greet?
We seem unaware.
We never meet
But tread on feet,
Say “Sorry,” but do
we care?

Mechanical talks
Go with our walks
Not fags or a dog.
Scenery fades
Through forest glades
Not looking,
Just checking our blogs.

Soon all could be known
When we have shown
Our desires on line.
Keeping in touch
Won’t matter so much
For everything will
be FINE!


The prominence of film stars
Had styles we imitated.
Blonde fringed, femme fatales
Who graced the screen.
It was men’s desire
That kept us motivated
And trendy sixties music
Set the scene.

Birth control and mini skirts
Seemed to free oppressed women
Who could not have known
Where this might lead.
Drugs were the culture
Of swinging sixties London
And ‘Let’s love everybody
To end greed.

Then if war was referred to
Bright flowers were the
Young peoples hope was love and peace.
Most were just happy
To be a disco dancer
Yet these youthful pleasures
Were on lease.

When in multi cultural London
The Jubilee was nearing
There was no rain to spoil
There was much cheering
With good spirits from
the people
For everything our
Monarch represents:

Stability and courage
Faithfulness to duty
These are qualities we can
She has outlasted
The fragile film star’s
And so much of Britain’s
Lost empire.


The image not the person
Is what we often see.
Sometimes this diversion
Makes prisoners of the free.

What are the examples
Spread across this land?
Do they answer people’s needs
Or our youth understand?

We offer them the glitter
Of pop and sex and drugs
While distributing litter
And supporting media thugs.

That life is one big party
Is a current theme,
But what if there’s no money
To support the people’s dream

What about the learning
Of craft and art and prayer
Is all this beauty churning
In places that are rare?

A secure foundation
Of ancient laws must keep
Rising through our nation
Which seems to be asleep.

Dream on fair youth
On stairways
Quietly getting stoned.
What is your inheritance
If we have not atoned?

If selling planes for warfare
Is what the people see
And getting, getting, getting
The new philosophy.

Who are the ones to profit
Out of those in need?
Not only the western world;
It could be global greed.

Each weary band of workers
Crushed into a train
Surrounded by the adverts
Of what they seek in vain.

Surely love and courage
Protect the minds of some
But who’ll repair the damage
The governments have done?


Why did she go back?
This brave lady.
To continue her father’s work
In a country torn by conflict.
Why did she go back
To the cheers of her party?
Benazir Bhutto.
A woman’s role model.
Unacceptable to many.
Her calls for freedom
And end to poverty, enslavement
Were challenges to settle.
Her death a tragic ending
With democracy fading.
Dynasties emerging.
Her party re-arranging.
Oh! Why did she go back?
We need not ask the question.
She went to serve her country.
Her name now part of its history
Beneath her fathers.
Their sacrifice unending.
More will follow….


While the children play in the sunshine,
People stroll and converse.
There are chairs and tables where some dine.
As I sit here writing verse.

The occasional smoker lights up
And cars pass in the street.
A Yorkshire terrier pup
Under a chair is fast asleep.

It’s Friday eve in the sun.
Buildings rise to the sky.
The country may be undone.
How many of us know why?

No alien landing here now
Would see anything wrong.
There’s no welcome anyhow.
Each sings their own song.

Our economy may shrink
But fountains gleam in the light.
Let’s all go out for a drink!
Everything will be alright.

At Canary Wharf 2011.