Tuesday, September 24, 2002

24 September 2002
London after Nottingham

what a momentous couple of days... the nation has been rocked - the countryside march.. the Dudley earthquake..

a couple of topical sonnets are required -

Countryside Alliance

They came from haunts of dormouse, hern and coot,
The hurray henries decked in harris tweeds,
Their hacking jackets, barbours, riding boots,
To stamp their anger on the city streets.

The hurray henriettas of the shires,
All fur and feathers, red in tooth and claw,
Like birds of prey, a chorus that decries -
Protect our blood lust; wolves are at the door.

From underhill and heath and rural ride
From plashy fen whence snouts the questing vole
From heather moor and down the mountain side
To bugger up the streets around Whitehall.

For all their numbers, few articulate
Their grievances beyond the five-barred gate.

Monday 23 September 2002


Dudley Earthquake

Four point eight on the Richter scale means what
Exactly? Did the earth move for you dear?
There was a roll of thunder, did you hear?
Was that a lightning crack? Or chimney pot?

A Midlands epicentre, boffins say,
The tremors ran like trams to Pebble Mill,
Edwina Currie broadcast live her thrill
The most exciting export from Dudley.

The seismic experts calculate the shocks –
A thousand tons or so of T N T,
From Wolverhampton down to Coventry
A rattle of the dice replayed the rocks.

In Nottingham, the rumble was for me
As orgasmic a frisson as could be.

Monday 23 September 2002

Thursday, September 19, 2002

19 September 2002

Soz for the gap.. didn't want to get into the anniversary of 9/11 directly, coming so soon after the Tony Blackburn wins Celebrity get me out of here.. so all I could do was sit back and marvel..
and George seems determined to take us all down the road to perdition..
of course Saddam says let the inspectors back in..
what else could he say? And if he means it? What would he say?
Let the inspectors come back in..

wake up George, regime change is not something in your gift to bestow on other nations..

anyway, enough ranting...
here is the latest topical sonnet..
with apologies again that I did not feel moved to write one sooner..


And looking back one year and seven days
Beyond the grief; the twisted metal shrine
To tragedy and horror. Is it time
To build the peace, and stop scanning the skies?

For those who can not wipe their answer-phones
And only have their photographs to mourn
Can justice ever signify a dawn
Without the cloud of war that hate condones?

It’s tough. The anniversary declares
Revenge should mingle with the city dust.
The towers fell; all comprehension crushed
Beneath the weight of guilt the US bears.

It’s tough. While New York nurses wounds still fresh
One thousand children drown in Bangladesh.

18 September 2002

Tuesday, September 03, 2002

Tuesday 3 September 2002

We seem to have gone baby crazy..


All hail the news! A baby boy is born
Delivered by caesarian section;
Now second in line to the purple throne;
Oh, wherefore art thou, Romeo Beckham?

The day after the big match, you booked in,
(The one where Keano and the ref saw red),
So Becks was there with baby bro Brooklyn,
Their golden balls hung round your mother’s bed.

Romeo , in tabloid speculation,
Excite the leader writers punning arts.
Where were your parents at your conception,
And did you get the best of Roman starts?

The family album is out any day,
But will we only see you in OK?

2 September 2002