Counter Lies

Workers are all liars of course, and thieves;

Whereas computers are infallible

As popes, absolutely reliable.

It should be expected no one believes

Denials, when sums of money are not there

Who’s guilty is beyond doubt. Then the state

Visits predetermined judicial fate

On those the faultless accounting software

Has caught out. Profits must be protected

At all costs, even if that means there’ll be

An occasional legal travesty;

The system works as might be expected.

Compensation can always be deployed

As a mitigation for lives destroyed.

D. A.

20/20 Vision

Eschewing hindsight and looking forwards

To see such a world in which TV news

Isn’t mainly bombed-out buildings or views

Of squalid camps, crowded alleys and yards

Teeming with desperate refugees. Instead

There will be universal reports

Of abandoned border posts and passports,

And no minefields where travellers fear to tread.

A worldwide commonwealth finally beckoned,

Meeting needs, not profit margins, too few,

Advocates have thought was long overdue:

 Cooperative advantages reckoned.

An impossible vision? When really

The imperative is to see clearly.

D. A.

Totalled

From all the deadly calculus of war,

With mounting tolls that are so horrific

They become just a gruesome statistic,

Let this accounting be for one, not more.

Focus on a single obscenity,

What should be an unimaginable fact,

A child killed through a deliberate act

In vain pursuit of national liberty.

When pulling the trigger is justified

As self-defence, which partial god or creed

Can be invoked to excuse such a deed,

By laying the guilt on the other side?

The gains of war cannot be reconciled

With loss of a man, a woman, a child.

D. A.

Migration

It seems the children of migrations past

Quickly become so indigenous they

Look to prevent others passing this way,

Becoming politicians who’ve amassed

Power and wealth enough to insist upon

Channel crossers in inflatable boats

Being collateral, exchangeable for votes,

No more than a business deal to be done.

The notion of migration surely implies,

Whether or not refuge is provided,

Humanity must remain divided;

The balance sheet decides who lives, who dies.

Rather than quotas and exclusion orders,

Why not a better world without borders?

D. A.

‘Tis the Season…’

Strands of fairy lights spiralling around

Local authority evergreens. Card

Readers, to their credit, are working hard

Reading the advent lesson, profit found

In the Christmas or Yuletide myth of choice.

Bethlehem, though, is closed again this year,

Armageddon seems to be drawing near,

With the bellicose having found their voice.

It feels as if the children of Herod

Are committed to an ancient error

That disputes can be resolved though terror,

With the blessing of their particular god.

While there’s still faith in nation and ordnance

How can humanity hope to advance?

D. A.

COP Out (28)

There is far too much carbon in the sky

Where, self-important leaders, with a dearth

Of ideas, jet from all around the earth

To vent hot air, enjoy banquets and try

 Looking as if they’re serious about

Rapidly melting glaciers and ice caps,

Forest fires, flooding, droughts destroying crops,

Drilling for oil, letting more carbon out.

They’ll propose taking radical measures,

Whatever’s required to reverse the trend,

Just as long, they’ll say, at conference’s end

They don’t impinge on capital’s treasures.

But then, of course, there’s the question of war,

Missiles and shells make carbon levels soar.

D. A.

Breaking News

Breaking News! The vast, vast majority

Of eight billion human beings haven’t killed

Anyone today, nor were so ill-willed

As to indulge in an atrocity.

Reports are coming in that people aren’t

Generally being greedy, indeed they live,

As far as possible, cooperatively,

Even while constantly being told they can’t.

Investigations, it appears, have exposed

Allegations that vile dictatorships

Are, or were, socialist, come from the lips

Of capital’s mouthpieces; debate closed.

Facts and details, how and which ones to choose?

That choice is what makes or can break the news.

D. A.

Lifestyle Choice

Urban camping’s highly recommended,

With prime sites in every city and town,

Alfresco pavements, or dark alleys down

Which you’re quite likely to be befriended.

Or there’s the glamping option for those days

Of winter so fresh and crisp they’re chosen

By those who prefer life to be frozen,

Their deluxe sleeping bags in shop doorways.

Meanwhile in Boulogne, Calais and Dunkirk,

Campers can look forwards to amusing

Themselves by going Channel cruising,

And a warm welcome waiting as a perk.

With people’s needs so readily addressed

They can freely choose which lifestyle suits best.

D. A.

Appealing

An afternoon of snooker on TV,

With every frame winning followed by

A commercial break, adverts that try,

Through poignant entreaty, to persuade me

To pick up my phone or just send a text

And donate month on month, as if charities

Can correct all the gross disparities

Of capitalism. First, war zones, next

The homeless, food banks, then forced marriage

Of young girls, the latest famine, immense

Problems of diseases drugs costing pence

Could treat, chronic loneliness of old age.

Each and every one a worthy mission,

But none will cure the ills of competition.

D. A.

Remember

Remember, remember the eleventh

Of November, when gunfire, shelling

And shot paused for a moment, a telling

Silence. Then gather around the plinth

On which the cenotaph stands, narcotic

Poppies commemorate and mask the blood,

While in their Sunday best the great and good

Make their last post stand before the quick

March past and away from the remaining dead,

Still behind their national flags. No advance,

As around the world echoes of ordnance

Drown out every word of peace ever said.

If, amidst shell-wracked ruins, all hope lies,

Bleeding poppy red, humanity dies.

D. A.