Thursday, August 29, 2002

thursday 29 August
London

hot air - topical sonnet no 43 - or so

Earth Summit
Global Warming

What you have, and what I have, aren’t as one.
I have a car, a house, a job, a cat;
You have a plastic bag, you wear a hat
To shade you from an unforgiving sun.

My drinking water, filtered, tastes so sweet
To a dry throat. My waste is flushed away.
You carry gourds a hundred miles a day,
The earth’s mosaic is patterned on your feet.

My life expectancy, now eighty five,
Presents a problem buying retirement.
You face a further thirty five years spent
In picking over aid to stay alive.

The Jo’berg delegates all need to share
The calls for action, not just more hot air.

28 August 2002

Thursday, August 22, 2002

Thursday 22 August 2002
London

Hate is in the air - distressing and spiralling us to madness and despair.

In Northern Ireland a footballer receives a death threat from a 'so-called' loyalist organisation and withdraws from a 'friendly' match against Cyprus. And yesterday a woman, not charged with murder, not found guilty of a crime, attracts a crowd of 600 people, including mothers with their children, to spit venom and wish her soul to rot in hell forever.

Whilst we can behave like this we should beware of claiming superior civilised values over a nation apparently prepared to stone a woman to death for having a child from an adulterous affair.

I despair.

topical sonnet no 41

A woman appears in court

A woman, twenty three, in custody
Is facing charges – trying to pervert
The course of justice. Double jeopardy;
One, her life, and two, society’s hurt.

Whatever thoughts are going through her mind,
Incomprehensible to baying crowds,
The raging mob, whose own reason resigned,
The madness of it all makes all afraid.

Another woman takes her kids to court
To hurl abuse and eggs. The metal box,
The prison van reverberates. They fought
To hammer on the sides, fear runs amok.

We deny justice in insanity,
Hate condemns us all in depravity.

22 August 2002

Tuesday, August 20, 2002

Tuesday 20 August
London

the footy season is well and truly back.
The Mariners (Grimsby not Seattle) have slumped... three games, one point..
what is the point? eh, nil desperandum..

and a certain gripping TV series ended on Sunday..
here's the topical sonnet to celebrate...

24

The longest day has ended. It began
As Kim slipped out with Ricky to a rave,
While Teri donned her long sleeved cardigan
And Jack prepared, a Senator to save.

By breakfast time the plot was truly thick,
The CTU had Shredded files and guns;
The body count was rising. Death was quick,
As Jack engaged his everlasting phone.

The sun went down. The Drazens took control
Of Eastern European accents. Then
Sly Nina was uncovered as the Mole,
As Kim was captured and escaped – again.

They’ve lined them up, for series number two,
But contracts next time let them use the loo.

20 August 2002

Wednesday, August 14, 2002

Wednesday 14 August 2002
still in London

the news has been dominated by another disappearance or abduction of children - two young girls in Cambridgeshire.
Last night Police searched ground in woodland, and everyone feared the worst..

and I wrote another topical sonnet while we all waited for news.

The earth is disturbed

A jogger near the racecourse says he’s found
Two patches of disturbed earth, rumpled ground.
The ripples of imagination spread
In waves of nausea. Are ten year olds dead?
The clamour of despair enthrals, appals;
We hunger for the detail; darkness falls.
Perseid stars like tears, shoot; silence descends
To shroud, like fog, the shallow graves of friends.

The evil that among us all resides,
Within us and without us rarely hides
The deeper passions; the ugliness that breeds
Obsession that drives all our darkest deeds;
These acts are part of our society
Our collective responsibility.

14 August 2002
Wednesday 14 August 2002
London

long time no hear... soz all you sneaking fans - well both of you..

here is a topical sonnet that has been lying around for a couple of days

Iraq

So what’s the plan, George? What d’you have in mind?
To wait till Labor Day or till the Fall
To cancel out the threat to humankind?
YOU CRAZY BASTARD, GEORGE, YOU’LL KILL US ALL.

Is there a plan, George? Is there a fall back
Position? Are the targets plotted in?
The military bases of Iraq?
YOU STUPID HALF-WIT, GEORGE, YOU’LL NEVER WIN.

This plan, George, tell us, what’s the fucking plan?
To save the world from terrorism’s shadow.
You sure you mean Iraq and not Iran?
IT SUCKS, GEORGE, LOOK GODDAM SADDAM WON’T GO.

The view of history reveals the threat
To sanity and peace – you George? You bet.

12 August 2002