A poem for David Cameron
If you've searched without success in every pestilent latrine
For a sample of the most revolting filth the eye has ever seen;
If the garbage of the midden and sewage of the drain
Reward you not, and all your efforts seem to be in vain,
Let not barren explorations fill your busom with despair,
Just trot around to Downing Street, you'll sure unearth it there.
By John S Clarke (originally about David Lloyd George). As Cameron with no shame or cover whatsoever declares it is time for open class war, it is time for the rest of us to begin discussing how to organise the fight back - come along to Marxism 2012 in London in July.
Edited to add: Another slightly political poem, though not directly about Cameron himself, 'Golden Empathy', which I have been sent by James McGrath, a lecturer based in Leeds who has poems forthcoming in several magazines.
Golden Empathy
We have lost the most admired
member of our Company –
and Company in the truest sense.
Sir Donald Witney, MA, PhD,
was a genuinely ambitious man.
His self-confidence was rivalled by none.
Few insurance companies can claim
to have been directed by the human race.
But all of us who worked under Sir Donald
at Golden Empathy can claim exactly that.
Sir Donald insisted we think of him
as a humble billionaire.
For his chief interests remained people,
whom he understood deeply.
And so, on this saddest of days,
let us celebrate. Let us give thanks
not just for Sir Donald the Empathy Director;
not just for Sir Donald the honorary scholar;
but for Sir Donald the deceased human being.
Sir Donald – ‘Sir’, to his friends
and family – will be remembered
for many things.
His sarcasm was legendary;
his charm, incredible;
and his perseverance, also legendary.
Sir had his way with words.
His company bulletins moved many to tears.
Indeed, Sir deeply loved literature,
enjoying the rights to thousands of novels.
He often quoted Shakespeare,
with whom he felt an affinity:
‘A thing of beauty is a joy forever, team’.
Sir was knowledgeable of nature.
He could name every species of wildlife
he ever shot. He said the simplest things,
like the simplest people, were the most important:
late morning sunshine, reflecting
on a golden fish-fork; raindrops on the roof
of his favourite Bentley.
Sir had time for everyone, including you –
whether you worked in security or law;
haulage or education; munitions or debt recovery.
A mark of his humility was that he never judged.
It speaks long volumes for Sir’s generosity
that he employed dozens of domestic servants.
And now, as Sir would say – ‘Time’s up’.
For Golden Empathy and all her customers,
today is the one day we couldn’t insure.
So may God, to whom he donated hundreds
in church each Christmas,
reward Sir Donald Witney in Heaven with,
we pray, his no-claims bonus.
Labels: David Cameron, poetry
posted by Snowball @ 12:15 p.m.
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