Author: blackbird212012

The opposition:

More of those days
Like paving slabs
That lead to execution
Of government plans

To the shutdown
Of government country
Of everything they lay claim to
Man and beast

The virus is king
It is in control of its own fate

All the ministry can do
Is to hold hands
And form a ring
And sing the hymns of state

It won’t be over till the fat lady sings
To the white cliffs of Dover
The shipwrecked will cling
And Britannia will mourn her lover

The leader:

We will mourn for our friends
And our family
before this is over

then we will get back to work
and carry on as ever

we will rebuild new Jerusalem
where the feet of Jesus once trod
reinstall the world in the wood
insurance claims will blame God

If you put me on the stage
Would a bouquet of flowers
Appear out of my head
Would I open my big mouth to sing
And swallow the first row
Would I get into a fight
With a disapproving policeman

If you put me on the stage
In an oversize suit
Before the curtain comes down
Would I run off with the chorus girl
Would I be as drunk as a wet dog?
Would I pull the wrong lever
And the audience start revolving

Would I be on the apex
Of a troupe of acrobats
Or trapped in a melee of hoola-hoops
Or preaching about the coming apocalypse
Or interviewing a glamorous scarlet starlet
About her latest blockbuster

Well here I am
But I’m in a field somewhere
And a couple of rabbits have stopped to stare
And a butterfly has landed on my nose

I study you everyday
Like someone
Would study Mozart

The simple melody
Of your existence
Mundane as the sun
In drainpipes
Or a hover fly
Looking for sweet dew

I copy the chords
From your daily routine
Chords I’ve never seen
From places I’ve never been
from times ‘ve been without
From arpeggios of your breakfast
That you’ll never forget
Like the gold shiny railings
Around your memories
That brace you everyday
In your spiritual hospital
Of neglect and fear
Of leading a bear
To a tea party
Which is something
All girls
Should learn to do

I study you every day
Like someone
Would study Mozart
And the more I look
The more I learn
Of ho the modes
Affect you more
Tan your minor tone
And shift you
Off from the stage
Into the wings

Then suddenly
It begins to fit
I learn to play
The accompaniment
To your life
To your melody
Using pattern four

As you roll along
In your private coach f dreams
With all your livery
Straight for the sun

I like to look into dark corners
Where you scrape away the dust
And find a paper clip
Where you shine a torch
And a white starving spider
Clambers away to safety

I like to look into dark corners
Where the broom cannot go
Is something living there
Hiding in a shadow
Where a dead hollow fly
Spins around on its back
And a small dice from a Ludo game
Turns up

I would like to find
Something special
But there never is
There’s a farthing
That my granddad lost
A hairclip
From my mother’s perm
A receipt from a shop till

Then you dream that you wake up
In that same dusty corner
And you crawl like a baby
Into a valley made for children
Or you spin in the dust
And when you come to a stop
You are pointing at a door