The weaker sex or so we’re taught
From which favours are taken or bought
Second class citizens with no minds
Pretty faces and pinchable behinds.
Man is the master; woman the servant
Power the aphrodisiac for the impotent
Man is the one who uses the tools
Reinforced prejudice in all the schools
Generals and policemen
Judges and businessmen
Men have the power
Woman just a fragile flower
Look no further seek no more
Woman is the maid, mistress and whore
Caught and trapped in dead end jobs
Standards slip to make a few bob
Driven by governments to be prostitutes
Dance to the tune of a greasy pimp’s flute
People get desperate when times are hard
Selling their bodies for Barclaycard
Woman is submissive again and again
The point rammed home again by men
Sexual stereotypes for all the girls
Nurses in uniform, plats and curls
Fishnet stockings and stilettos
“Bend over girl and touch your toes.”
Three in a bed all the rage
All the girls, nude, live on stage
Not caring about where he’s been
Full frontal shots live on screen
So walking home late at night
Always thinking you’ll be all right
Out jumps a man with a six-inch knife
You don’t scream or shout when it’s your life
A crime against the body
A crime against woman
The same cycle over repeatedly
A by-product of a sick society.
As the night draws in on the day of life. Summer well forgotten, as are the autumnal days, as winter beckons ever nearer. Coldness and the dark cry out. Ghostly fingers pull and tear, dragging closer and closer to the abyss.
Staring back through a day.
Staring back through a year.
Seconds, minutes, hours, days, years, decades – a lifetime.
Time being a concept outdated; futile immobile. This lifetime in a day, passing through the seasons. Spring for youthfulness. Summer sun to ripen and mature. Autumn for reflections onto middle age.
Now winter and this coldness.
The mind still crystal clear, but the body weak; fragile, tired, so very old. Systems are failing, degeneration; humiliation. Remembering everything.
THIS BRAIN STILL FUNCTIONS.
Relatives fuss, fondle and fawn. They pat and speak down as if a reversion to childhood, or pet like creature had occurred. Conversation ceases. Nothing stimulating, nothing over complicated; banal and boring. Pathetic and humiliating, but the brain still functions despite the inhumanity.
Keeping things quiet, as if nobody notices midnight and the coldness approaching.
Taken by blue light, to four white walls. Starched and sanitised, cleaner than clean. Angels beckon, but only in uniforms; with drips, needles, masks and faces and this all-consuming whiteness. Blinded by the white.
Systems stop. Nothing can be done.
Just make as comfortable as possible.
The brain ticks on.
Give me tender loving care. Just tender loving care.
Whiteness turns to darkness. The brain stops.
Systems cease.
Tender loving care.
This soul lives on.
Little Johnny watches the bright television glow
Seeing gleaming presents in adverts that they show
Models, doll, bikes and toys
All new, all for joy
Wetting the appetite just right
Little Johnny takes first bite
“Mummy can I have it? Please Mummy let me.”
Can you really break the heart of a child only three?
But Daddy can’t play Santa he’s assuming another role
It’s hard to Yo, Ho-Ho when you’re on the dole.
Out in the shops bright lights glow and attract
Like a fool to the fire nothing can distract
“ONLY”, “BUT NOW”, “SALE”, “LAST OFFER”
Reaching for the pocket nothing can deter
Pulls out plastic credit; your flexible friend
It won’t bounce, it won’t crack, it’ll send you round the bend.
Off now to the law courts for not paying debts
Husband sits and listens adding up his bets
“It’s their bleeding fault; it’s all their scheme!”
Knuckles white, eyes wide, she starts to scream
“I bought and bought, those adverts ruined me,
I saw it on the telly, the way it had to be!”
This coldness of poverty, can you feel the chill?
More debts and overdrafts, paying off another bill
Money scarce enough without more mouths to fill
But this is Christmas and the season of goodwill.
Huddled in a single room, Annie sits alone
Waiting for Christmas messages, sitting by the phone
She hoped they liked their present; just a little game
She couldn’t really afford it, but she bought it just the same
Lonely wrapped in blankets, it’s no fun being old
Bad enough in the summer never mind in the cold
She’s got her electric fire, but with only one bar
She’d love to put on another, but a pension don’t go far.
Meanwhile in towns and cities, in the trendy bars
With Porches and Rollers and other flashy cars
Sounds of laughter and chinking champagne glasses
Salutes to the New Year and another ruling class
Vegetarian, anti-sex, pseudo-leftie hippies
Money to burn, more fascist yuppies
No thoughts for the poor, the sick, the ill, the lonely,
No need for a devil whilst these bastards rule this country.
This coldness of poverty, can you feel the chill?
More debts and overdrafts, paying the ultimate bill
Vultures circle slowly, waiting for the kill
This is Christmas and the season of goodwill.
(You can cut this rubbish with a knife,
Slice this flesh, they call a human life).
The smallest thing.
Only one word can trigger it. Then SNAP!
In the middle of the room, standing.
Fists clenched, eyes bulging
Shouting and raving
Raving and ranting
Thinking: “why the hell am I doing this? I don’t want this!”
And then the sulk
And so it goes on, and on, and on.
And on.
Black and thundering.
I can feel it coming on.
Patience and reasoning gone out of the window
Feelings get bitter and twisted
Everything is forgotten, and its’ not meant.
Moody and irritable that’s me
I hate it
But it’s me.
A state of mind, a sense of nothing
Dreams that could have been
Ambitions unfulfilled.
In this silence, in this space, in my home
It’s all my fault I wanted it this way
The decisions I chose, were the mistakes I made (drone on)
I’ve had it all
I’ve seen it all
And now I’ve gone and lost it all.
From the black to the colours like a swinging chain
These climates change forever and again
Lost behind the curtains that is me
The only one to be happy to be lonely.
Everything is slowing down
Movement causes pain in exertion
The easy way out is the option.
Drying up, cracking up
Playing the role in my dreams
I live to sleep.
Can’t talk anymore – nothing to talk about
Cant’ think anymore - nothing to think about
Don’t care at all - nothing to care for
Grinding to a halt, and a tranquillity and a gorgeous finality
Can’t laugh anymore; getting too cold now.
And the joke that you told me
Has a humour as black as my eyes
Oh joyous joyful joyfulness
Swinging slowly to insanity
Changing to a shooting star
Going that way I will go far.
From the black to the colours like a swinging chain
These climates change forever and again
Lost behind the curtains, that is me
The only one who could be happy to be lonely.
I saw myself today, ten years ago
A thin youth, full of hope, trapped in a narrow mind
A day trip was excitement!
That would last a month, (in my dreams)
Living it up in the high life
The way things would be achieved in my plans
Pure and quiet, bright-eyed and naïve
Sitting on this train, staring out the window
Watching the countryside; the world, pass-by with passive excitement
Timid and shy, staring at the outside
Staring at me
What was he thinking?
What did he think of me?
I wanted to shake him
To bring him into the real world.
I tried to catch his eye
To try and read his thoughts – but our eyes never met
I couldn’t. He wouldn’t
A nice cosy home, a place to tell stories
And settle back and watch television
In the warmth and security
Where nothing can burst the bubble
Where reality never meets fantasy
The boy’s view of life; honesty, truth and love
Lies, deceit and hate
The way it should be
I took a last drag from my cigarette
And blew the smoke and dirt towards him
Tried to break into that irritating cleanness
I tried to break into his world
To get to his safeness
Away from the filth, sickness and bitterness
That I now process
I felt sorrow for the boy
I wanted to return to myself.
She wiped the condensation from the bathroom mirror with painted fingers
Her eyes stare back, as another layer of mascara is applied
Lines applied, running into others, spreading, enhancing the affect
A chime in her ear, brings the painting to an end
Running downstairs in stocking feet
She lets the babysitter in
Instructions give, she returns softly upstairs
Checking in on the sleeping children
Then quietly closes the door
Another glance in the mirror as she smoothes out her dress
Pulls out the blood and smothers along her lips
Font door closes and she steps outside into the damp night air
Bringing behind an invisible cloud of choking, clinging,
Spray-on sweetness
Eyelids close with thoughts of what might have been
But “might have beens” and “ifs” and “buts” don’t exist here
The ex, the children, her life and dreams
There is nothing left to lose now
Only her humour and dignity
A fragile flower, standing vulnerable in the breeze
Her footsteps echo across dirty pavements under the dim streetlights
Heading for the city, the lights and company
She shouldn’t have to walk alone, but has to
A head filled with happy tunes and warm thoughts
The warmth and noise of the pub bring relief
Chatting with friends and drinking, forgetting
Enjoying herself, singing aloud to the juke-box
Knowing all the words to a sixties love song
She stops mid chorus as she sees a young man with a girl
But the record revolves on along in her mind
Attractive and pretty, successful and young and full of hope
She smiles at him with honesty and a heart of gold
No bitter feelings, now nothing is left
Disappointment and being let down is nothing new
She laughs and smiles with humour and dignity
Back at home again, in front of the mirror
Tears that night have been, dried up years ago
“There must be someone out there who genuinely cares.”
She whispers to herself as the make-up comes off
She thinks of the clowns as the make-up is removed
Laughter and tears as blackness runs down
A heart that beats with love and emotion
Another hilarious night.
Stumbled footsteps on the stairs
Another sordid secret affair
Love and flowers gone
Bathroom light switches on
Alcohol scent descends
Predator to prey ascends
Protestation, then attack, she lies
Eyes close, the attack, she cries
Young and foolish, mental relapse
Wrong all along, no love perhaps
Awake, background to snaring trapped
Sexual violence, defenceless attacked
Fist on flesh, fist on bone
Vulnerable, scared and all alone
Inside family squabbles issues blur
Inside marriage rape occurs
No lobe, never love
No snow-white dove
Breakdown from sane attempt
Seasons in sun never dreamt
Young eyes and cry confused
Innocence lost with child abused
More fucked up lives
As husbands rape wives
She waits she hates
She lies
She cries
She dies
She is mute
Another domestic dispute.
No word be said or deeds be done
Just look me in the eye
A gesture in a day of night
Shall cut me down to die
A while ago when I was small
I tried to shield my mind
But through the love and all the years
I learned the role of the kind.
Destiny unveiled along the way
With riches abounding galore
Will be explained in darkest of years
When hope exists no more.
Glow cast flame by fiery flicker
Shadows exposed to radiant light
Even the coldest of souls the darkest of hearts
Are warmed by dreamful delight.
So wipe the doubt, the lies in your eyes
You on your own have nothing to fear
The deceit you are thinking is as obvious as sin
So talk of the devil and he shall appear
No words be said just deeds be done
Just look you in the eye
A gesture in a second of time
Shall cut you down to cry
Our minds are silent
Our lips are silent
The breath is silent
The laws are silent
The decree of judgement; attainment to the full.
Through the veins, surging forward, pumped on
Across the lipid membranes, transported, incorporated
Cells process, package and pack
Products formed; jump and connect nerve endings
Sensory stimulation, senses heightened
Random movements – disorientation
Looking out through dilated pupils
Pushing out on engorged stalks
Vessels explode across the surface of poached eggs
Soaking in the colour, jumping out
Pulsing out.
Skin drawn tight across the body
Shaking and moving in the warmest of rooms
A tongue wriggles across cracked, parched lips
Mouth dry as a bone and as still as this night.
Still you sit and draw
Shaking hands, burn those lips
Ash falls to the floor
Like this life, burnt offerings
Like your life? All burnt out
Stubbed out and shielded reality
Face the world baby
There are enough kicks for a lifetime.
Through this pain and torture
Excess and greed and corruption of the soul
I stand and watch – a stranger
A stranger amongst similar forms.
Splice the main
brace; we’ve nothing to fear
Drape the flags in
the sea and spray
Here we go to
conquer today
Got no muskets,
we’ve Stanley knives
A kick in the head
for European lives.
Waiting in darkness groups of men stand and wait
Anxious soldiers, a seed of bloody fate
Midnight boat sails for foreign lands
To fight on the beaches, the streets and stands
History told of the Empire
The might of sword and fire
A spirit of the Blitz, of a Britain that was great
Patriotism never lacking, never late.
With the spirit of Francis Drake at Plymouth Ho
When it was known who was friend, who was foe
In the spirit of Richard the Lionheart and the crusades
Here are the Gunners, the Spurs and the Blades
With John Bull and bulldog, always heard always seen
A message of justice to the unclean
In the spirit of Churchill and world war two
In the name of God, the Right and the true
Victory gained through blood, sweat and tears
Celebration of lost years with strong beers.
Prepared to fight where forefathers fought
In the lights of nearing ports
“God Save The Queen” and “Rule Britannia” ring out
Hostile welcome assured without doubt.
In the spirit of Thatcher, young soldiers stand ready
Alcohol allegiance legs stagger unsteady
With the spirit of Special Brew, Hofmeister and Pils
From England’s sleepy towns and hills
To Stockholm, Hamburg and Amsterdam
Victory not shame honours and Union Jack sham.
Man and woman you show the way
Perfect features adjust for the perfect day
Media maidens cavort and caress
Products to sell no room to digress
Chin, lips, nose and hair to perfection
Tuned in turned on for our affection
Your face shines in the lights
Wrapped and draped in delight
On hoardings, the screen and magazines
The look the fashion to be seen
The more I look I see the pores
Oil-soaked, burnt, style-whores
White teeth flash out a gleaming grin
A body of happiness wrapped up in skin
Beautiful man you can have everything
Beautiful woman you can have everything
Ordinary man you must have everything
Ordinary woman you have nothing.
The white face stands out appealing
Ethnic face rejected – revealing
Spotty youth hide your face
Keep away you know your place.
Lines cut deep into the flesh
Tell tale signs embroiled in the mesh
Wrinkles add character gained respectful
Surgery robs the body to grow old graceful.
The disease that wastes takes hold
Draws skin to bone flesh so cold
Sadness, RT reduction of hair
Advertisers propaganda, do they care?
The body rescued dragged from the fire
Mutilated disfigured in the mire
Sees pretty people from a hospital bed
If the face doesn’t fit may as well be dead.
And in another bed on another ward
A woman cries softly and prays to the Lord
As page 3 stares up, she needs to take a rest
Feels useless, sexless, with just one be=breast
But within in all these bodies, hidden behind skin
There are minds alive, humour and a will to win
Cosmetics and pills pilled upon the heap
Just remember beauty is just skin deep
Peel back the skin, peel it back
And look at the real person.
I AM A FREEDOM FIGHTER. I AM A GUERILLA…. A TERRORIST
GET THE GIST? GET THE GIST?
PRECONCEPTIONS
REJECTIONS
CONCEPTIONS… OBJECTIONS
ACCEPT? REJECT?
Black dude, think cool, so rude
Smoke dope, no hope
Six-inch knife, ganja life.
Urban youth, want proof?
Wheel and deal
Can’t feel
Sex, glue and fags
Shoot up the skag.
Woman wants man
Refuse/abuse
Divorcee, want to screw me?
Want more from a sex-crazed whore?
Gay, I bend your way
Spread disease with your sleaze
Corrupt my mind with your behind.
Irish paddy, bastard daddy
Drink and fight
Stay out all night
Not a trick fucking thick.
I am a mad man
Too bad
Someone’s mad
Me or you?
I AM A FREEDOM FIGHTER
YOU ARE A GUERILLA, A TERRORIST
GET THE GIST? GET THE GIST
PRECONCEPTIONS, REJECTIONS
CONCEPTIONS, OBJECTIONS
ACCEPT?
REJECT?
Grey haired man kneels and prays through despairing eyes
Tapestries of the commandments adorn the walls
Jesus bows acknowledging the hopelessness
Sin, decay and depravity, destroying the land of the free
Only here in the heartlands does the word remain true
The bible belt of America where the prayers go unanswered
On ward Christian soldiers marching to salvation
Lessons of Berlin proved a too messy extermination
Whet we need is a plague to wash the streets clean
But wait – thank God for nature and the moral majority
Raise our hands and thank the Lord as the disease rains down
The virus in the needles, in the veins, in the blood
Pulsing in the systems in the gutter of the addicts
Fighting in the ghettoes; craving for the drug
Where the needs create a deadly reality.
Gay clubs closing down, the disease selects well
Destroying those who indulge in unnatural love
Killing those who spread the sickness
The unclean, shunned, hated driven from society
Promiscuity reduced, philanderers run scared
Babies only introduced inside marriage
Eradication of the poor, a submissive work force
Women controlled, the sexual revolution curtailed
Starvation weakened Africa bleeds on its knees
Providing an empty battle ground for World war Three
Restoration of the family, rediscovery of the church
Thanks giving to on high for our plague of salvation.
The weak wiled, the impure will be eliminated
Ears deaf, eyes blind to the suffering
Man, woman, children, babies all victims
Innocents of the prayers of the hypocritical moralists
The plague of salvation destroying the nations.
Let me read my magazine
A torrid time with littery obscene
Women believe in what the publishers tell them
This ain’t Penthouse or Playboy this is Woman’s Realm
Wear no knickers with emancipation
He’s got a little willy and suffers from prem ejaculation
It’s a happy lot a woman’s lot
But it’s a real drag if she can’t find her G-spot
She waxes her legs and nails are filed
And reads and reads about loads of piles
Contemplated a bite of Turkish delight
But worries about impending cellulite
It’s a hell of a life a life, but can be so humdrum
Without the anti-depressants and Valium
She learnt to find her erogenous zones
Her voice is loud so she can moan and groan
When she gets up she gets a cramp spasm
She’s yet to have a full coital orgasm
Reads all the lovely, lovely recipes
But yet again it’s fish fingers for tea
She trys on all the risqué fashions
To try and attain her ration of passion
Had trouble passing water; thought it was cystitis
Went off to doctor who diagnosed appendicitis.
Watches Dallas and Dynasty
Drifts off to the US dream factory
She dare not miss those cosy Neighbours
It’s sport and current affairs that really bores
She fancies having an affair
But she doesn’t really dare
On a horny morning tries to tempt the milkman’s lad
Puts on naughty undies and shoulder pads
Fantasies about a young stud meeting
With whips and chains and a beating
Pregnancy glorified, as is abortion
Not reality another true life distortion
Life so simple marriage or divorce
Can’t contemplate a life without intercourse
But that’s not fact that is fiction
A head full of celluloid crap is an addiction
The cooking is boring
The kids are boring
The job is boring
The husband is boring
But that is life and that is real
You can change it if you feel
Don’t be taken in by the lies of the “New Woman”
The media is controlled by sexist old men
You don’t need the book, the TV or magazine
Be freethinking, free spirited and feminine.