Malevolence

By what malevolent mechanism

Does someone become so self-promoting

As to seduce voters into voting

In favour of division and schism?

For all such Herodians, innocence

Of those being killed and buried in their homes

Is easily dismissed. Victory forms

Its own rationale, though it makes nonsense

Of any claims to civilisation,

Which surely should be a society

Of the commonweal, where people are free

From obligation to any nation

And its capital. Power’s the sly drug

That so intoxicates the demagogue.

D. A.

Whither the Commonweal

Beyond flame, smoke and rhetoric of war,

Muffling hearing and dimming the vision

Of spectators lost to indecision,

Is there some greater purpose anymore?

Nothing’s resolved by strike and counter strike,

Disputation of sovereignty and borders,

The commonplace of following orders,

Whether with bow and axe, musket and pike,

Missile and drone, always the casualty

Is humanity. Victory or defeat

Figure in columns on the balance sheet

While profit’s the deciding reality.

There can be no leaders without the led

If they but choose the commonweal instead.

D. A.

Conflicted

Infallible leader! The Commander

In Chief, fashioning and refashioning

The earth moment by moment to bring

It into line with his propaganda.

Bothered neither by doubt or modesty,

He’s a political Janus who says

What he sees myopically looking both ways

At once: the world as he wants it to be.

He will make America great again

Through the power of his personality:

A few thousand deaths, mere banality.

First tariffs followed by missiles; but then

A new policy when the old won’t abide,

When share prices fall and markets decide.

D. A.

Telling Lies

Listen! ‘Tell me lies about Vietnam’*

And Suez, Korea, Afghanistan,

Libya, Syria, Iraq, Iran…

War’s the very worst deliberate scam,

Always a gross act of misdirection,

By which the misdirected lend consent

To their leaders’ malevolent intent:

All, of course, for the good of the nation.

What does victory look like? Much the same

As defeat! Inspired by cupidity,

Or even hubristic stupidity.

To the Lords of Misrule it’s still the Great Game.

The news will be encouraging no doubt;

Appear bare-faced, ‘tell me lies about…’*

D.A.

*From: ‘To Whom It May Concern’

             Adrian Mitchell (1968)                                                                                                                                                 

Spectacular Stories

Headlines were about a sex marketeer,

Spiced with possible royal relations,

The media was alive with sensations.

Until the tale changed and it became clear

The Commander in Chief had his eagle eye

On Greenland; cue a sharp change to the script.

How easily sovereignty can be stripped

Away, without a by your leave or why.

But, then on to the next cause, the next plan,

Kidnap an inconvenient head of state.

Yet hardly had he succumbed to his fate

When the world’s focus was moved to Iran.

Not letting news settle on a topic,

Spectacles might make people myopic.

D. A.

Collateral Damage

The primary target has been destroyed,

By a surgical strike designed to leave

Blasted and charred ruins for those who grieve

To pick through, for all who couldn’t avoid

Being reduced to statistics, a body count

On the evening news. Strategy is clear,

It’s the brutal diplomacy of fear,

Leaving far too few remains to amount

To complete human beings. There is concern,

International stock markets are falling,

With speculation, futures are stalling:

How many losses before fortunes turn?

The enemy is easily identified,

Being those barbarians on the other side.

D. A.

The Prince

The prince is so divined by rite of birth,

No merit necessary, nor deserved;

Predestined not to serve, but to be served

Irrespective of foibles, fault or worth.

What personal qualities should a prince show?

Those, perhaps, that best define his station,

Daring! Cruelty! Manipulation!

As promulgated by Old Niccolo.

These media days maybe it’s more vital

A public prince should be wisely bidden

To keep such characteristics hidden,

As exposure could cost him his title.

But, should monarchy, like the old Tsars, fall,

Capital will just repossess it all.

D. A.

Quotidian Fallacy

Volunteering must be unnatural,

Most certainly a contradiction indeed

Of that basic human motivation, greed!

A person’s worth is measured by the deal

Securing the highest price for work done,

While any employer will want to see

How much work can be extracted for free:

Surely no one will work a shift for fun?

Astonishingly, there are those who say

The world should turn on freely meeting needs,

All working together and no one leads;

People choosing to live a different way.

But stopping human nature from rearing?

About as likely as volunteering!

D. A.

Eight Billion People

Today, eight billion people or so

Did not dispatch drones and missiles to kill

Neighbours, didn’t intimidate or instil

A sense of fear. Mostly they’re content to go

About their lives without any glister

Of gold braid, tittles or honours. Indeed,

It’s only too clear where such awards lead:

A-lister scratching the back of A-lister.

They aren’t trafficers for sex or cheap labour,

Those who exploit the weak and distressed,

Whose only real interest is interest,

Who believe neighbour should exploit neighbour.

Better by far the eight billion would choose

To live otherwise than those in the news.

D. A.

Change

Neither gods nor leaders! It is people

Who make and remake societies.

Therefore, within human reason power lies

To discern and dismiss all the feeble

Commonplace political panjandrums,

Officers of state, that prestige deranges,

Under whose guidance nothing changes,

While capital keeps on doing its sums,

Totting up all the profits and losses,

Profits being what labour of workers yields,

Workers whose losses scatter battlefields

At the self-serving behest of bosses.

However things are presently arranged,

When people decide, then things can be changed.

D. A.