terrorist graffitti

The London Bombings 7th July 2005

This was posted in the week of the London bombings (7/7 2005) on www.writewords.org.uk a writers’ web site I belong to. Many poems had been posted that week trying to express the inexpressible anger and grief we all felt – hence the remarks below written with respect:

“Like the rest of you, I have been trying to wrap my head, my heart and even my stomach around the week. I respect the motivation behind posted poems and tried the same but it wouldn’t work. Then I heard of a man who had lost a leg and might die; joking, joking for Christ’s sake, with the railway employee holding his hand underground, that now he would be able to compete in the Paraplegic Olympics in 2010. So I decided nobody’s tears needed help. But maybe I should try as hard as I could, to make myself smile. However pathetic, these were my efforts. A sort of stream of semi-consciousness. If they raise a single smile in anyone else this week, I am more than content. Even if the smile is accompanied by a groan. I’m really suspicious about prayers going to the gods: but I’m pretty sure our capacity for laughter drags the buggers down here. Silly rude, vulgar, groanworthy – all my favourite human traits.”

Angry

Of all the arcane mysteries
left in the world
my capricious brain asks
is there a North Croydon?
and I wonder
are its natives
ever gruntled?
especially living in Croydon

If the cruel rumour
that Minnie mouse
is a nymphomaniac
is true
isn’t it unkind
to take the Mickey out of her?

Is it possible
to use the word serendipity
correctly
without your
head up your arse?

Why isn’t the past tense
of fit
Fat?
or someone
who contradicts himself
called oxymoronic?

Why don’t hotels
provide a second
sign to hang on the door
do not turb?

Why are public schools
always private
and private schools
never public?
Is this elegant
Aristocratic wit
or what we hoary
sons of the sea call
taking the piss?

Has erectile disfunction
got something to do
with problems encountered
In redecorating
the bathroom?

Why are scruffy
middle class people
dishevelled
but workmen always
scruffy?
I know lots of
shevelled workmen

When George and
Barbara Bush
agonised over
naming their son
how did they miss
‘F**kwit’?

Was Goebbels’
legendary defect
caused by having
such a
commanding name?

‘George W Bush’
and ‘Tony Blair’
are an anagram of

THE BABYLON ROGUES RIG

I write letters of praise
to the press
signed
‘Gusted’ St Albans

Old Father William
was clearly perverse
but was is essential
he was always
in-verse?

If you were sitting
on a tuffet
would you know
until that greedy little kid
came down and
sat beside you?

Architecturally
can discrete
concrete
be discreet?

Is concrete poetry
written by
frightened constipated
bad poets?

If all these Gods
are so f**king
omnipotent
why don’t we
job swap
and let them
try being human
for a while?

Anger, wrath,
power and glory
obedience without dissent
devotion without limit
belief without truth
faith without question
trust without doubt
worship me
die for me
kill for me
without proof
in face of the facts
despite the pain
and the suffering
He has a plan
an eternal
f**king plan
but you have to
die
to find out
what it is.
What kind of god
would ‘give’ men
virgins
as a ‘reward’?
man isn’t made
In the image of God
god is made
in the image of Man

Here we humans are
we can’t make
so much as a maggot
yet we can create,
Gods everywhere

A thousand lives
And a single life
Balance
In the scales of justice
Human
Sacred

(July 2005)

Filed under: Humorous, Loss, Philosophical, Political