Daily Archives: September 9, 2015

Benefits by Jonathan Eyre

I am not a silent poet

I will pull myself up onto the butcher’s table
for You to pick your weekly cuts,
the Nation’s Rich deem
we no longer deserve our souls,
Every day we can be called forward to be inspected
whilst the rich do the ‘accepted’ thing,
cheat on paying their full taxes, a ‘cultural’ norm
to claim THEIR expected cash benefits,
and so YOU, the jealously ill,
are let loose,
to hound US
the poor, unemployed and disabled,
rallying to hunt us down,
the Media branded unworthy,
the head-boys calling their fags
to chase down the quarry,
to harry us, split us off,
in these ‘Benefit Games’
until we fall exhausted and broken
then rationally and fairly,
crushing our bones to make a pleasing sound,
encouraging the tearing of flesh from the fallen,
to lean the joy of spinning us again and again
on pins of unimportance, on pins of unimportance, on pins…

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Nature by Paul Stevens

I am not a silent poet

Don’t you tell me about the wonder of nature,
It’s just a creature eat a creature eat a creature,
eat a creature, eat a plant, get stomped on by an elephant,
it’s ugly and it’s smelly and it’s always on the telly…

Don’t you tell me about the wonder of nature,
where a cat ate a bat ate a rat ate a gnat,
got old, got fat, dropped dead and that was that,
it’s ugly and it’s smelly, it’s Bill Oddie wearing wellies…

And don’t you tell me that there’s no place like home,
pale ape pick up a stone, break a bone, break a bone,
break a bone, score a rock, go swinging through the tower blocks,
it’s ugly and it’s smelly and it’s fuck all like the telly

Where the sun beats down upon this place,
this Garden of Eden with hatred and killing,

Where someone is spitting…

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paper by Reuben Woolley

I am not a silent poet

paper

ink

pen

paper ink pen
ink pen paper
pen paper ink

ink paper pen paper paper
pen paper ink pen paper ink
name
paper ink paper name ink name pen name

signing

name signing pen paper name signing
pen signing ink signing paper signing name signing

signing signing signing signing nothing
signing nothing nothing name nothing
pen nothing paper nothing ink nothing
nothing nothing signing nothing nothing
nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing
nothing signing
nothing name
nothing pen
nothing ink
nothing paper
nothing nothing nothing nothing
nothing nothing nothing
fucking nothing
fuck

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It is Time to Write a Poem by PW Covington

Amazing poem!

I am not a silent poet

It is time to write a poem
A poem about riding a Trailways bus through Alabama
A poem about Piggly Wiggly state policemen
And flags and grits
And backyard-bred attack dogs
Gun shows
Southern pride

It is time to write a poem
Because what we’ve been busy with
…..isn’t working
These guns and prisons
Banks and borders
These laws and churches
These immigration mazes, religious hatreds
Must all have seemed like good ideas
…..at some point

All these wars

When I see your face in the morning
Before the news of day comes charging in
Before the bodies roll in on the tide
Before the pragmatism of decades takes hold
It’s time to write a poem

It is time to write a poem to mail
…..away to foreign lands
To send off to the moon
To the planet Mars
To the core of…

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