370 - What good do nation states really achieve

What good do nation states really achieve
On this all too small ball floating in space
That I now travel, though hard to believe,
At the speed of light when I see your face
On my computer screen? Between my place
And yours is half a world. What’s the difference
Between us and our lands? Let’s not replace
Ethnic, linguistic, cultural variance
With global homogeneity. Once
That’s done then life is poorer. Would we leave
Only one type of bird or fish, no trace
Of lost diversity? But what earth wants,
And peace, is that, together, we unweave
Our borders and our economic race.
Sun 9 Sep 2007

369 - My wife lost a child, so has been transfixed

My wife lost a child, so has been transfixed
By the seemingly endless sad drama
Transpiring in Portugal, where a mixed-
Up and messy missing child case is a
Regular read in papers, and on the
TV each night. Madeleine, nearly four,
Vanished in early May. The Policia
Now think her parents may have planned it, for
The dreaded DNA tests, using poor
Quality samples, suggest that they switched
Her body from the apartment by car,
The one they hired. We have faith in the law,
But occasionally it’s knocked for six.
Let’s hope they find her, not her murderer.
Sat 8 Sep 2007

368 - Here are some groups that I have listened to

Here are some groups that I have listened to,
And still do, now and then, for old times’ sake:
Slade, Sweet, Roxy Music, Sparks, Status Quo,
Yes, Genesis, Led Zeppelin. Mistake!
I thought, switching to punk, a complete break.
Then Siouxsie and the Banshees, Magazine,
Buzzcocks and Joy Division. Then the fake
Bands came, so I checked out the 60s scene:
The Doors of course, the Byrds I heard; has-been
Beatles, Velvets and Love sounded as new,
And reggae, dance and soul iced this great cake,
While rap, house and electro shook my spleen.
Britpop, it stopped the boredom, hip hop too;
Indie ain’t dying; jazz makes my sax shake.
Fri 7 Sep 2007

367 - The British system? It's just not cricket

The British system? It’s just not cricket.
It’s not fair play. It’s still I’m alright, Jack.
We’re not gregarious, so we closet
Ourselves away in small castles while rack
And ruin lie outside. We all stay back
Behind net-curtained battlements, see kids
On the loose, drug addicts, a giant crack
Through which the failures fall, tyre marks and skids
And flowers by lamp posts. Our rich land rids
Itself of guilt for poor death. Soldiers hit
And maim in distant lands. Shareholders crack
Open bubbly to sounds of coffin lids.
Where is our conscience, our empathy? It
Seems there are things our leaders always lack.
Thur 6 Sep 2007

366 - A year seems such a short unit of time

A year seems such a short unit of time
When filtered through the sieve of memory:
365 days of rhyme
And reason, four seasons, as seen through me.
But we’ll only see seventy, eighty,
And the first few of those beyond recall,
Hidden from sight in clouded infancy,
Repressed perhaps, waters too rough to trawl,
And by old age the mind is apt to crawl.
And so these years belonging to our prime
Are long and rich and of high quality,
Each day another deep red rose petal.
I hope, therefore, that my daily words chime
With your love of life’s finite mystery.
Wed 5 Sep 2007

365 - My youngest daughter started school today

My youngest daughter started school today,
So nice and smart in uniform and all,
Looking like Cinderella on the way
To the excitement of the prince’s ball.
At this happy / sad hour I now recall
My older children’s first days at their school,
Hoping that mine or their tears wouldn’t fall,
As each little drop drips into the pool
Of his or her peers. At that point, your rule
Over dear Jane or Johnny melts away,
For other influences to install
Themselves in their heads that don’t seem so cool.
They’re out of your control, and you must pray
That they can cope and thrive and stand up tall.
Thur 4 Sep 2007

364 - Money has bought us comfort, bought us ease

Money has bought us comfort, bought us ease,
It’s bought us many things that we don’t need,
It’s bought long life and freedom from disease,
Our independence, insatiable greed.
The trough tastes good, so stick snout in and feed,
And make sure that your snout keeps others out,
Or else it might be them, not you, who’ll breed,
And you wouldn’t want that, so get real stout.
We’re programmed to be selfish, there’s no doubt,
But are the strongest still on the increase?
Selfish by nature, nature’s law they heed,
But condoms kill their seeds before they sprout.
Meanwhile, the poor propagate our species,
Though treated by the gardeners as weed.
Mon 3 Sep 2007