When the Dogs Bite

Tuesday, 1 July 2025

1st July 2025

The night is hot

and full of wakefulness.

The dog's bad breath.

To govern a group of citizens well

you must be prepared to change opinion

because, historically, all leaders fell

from listening to the country's minions.

Be prepared to flip-flop your decisions

and follow orders form your richest peers

for every law in place will need revisions

when the wealthiest are forced to face their fears.

What better way to show the use of power

than to oppress the smallest folk in number

whether it be blacks or gays, or those who flower

until their human rights are torn asunder.

Unless it's folk from even bigger states

And then you just extend your deadline dates.

keir starmer changes his mind again

Monday, 30 June 2025

30th June 2025

The night is dark

and full of terrors.

Anxiety dreams

Noel Gallagher has reached the fine age

where he thinks that his opinions matter;

while Rod Stewart bangs on how good Farage

would be to make the English Fat Cats fatter.

Both condemn the young musicians on the shelves

for being 'woke' and having views opposed

to those of Rich, Old, White Men like themselves

while they forget that social justice grows

not from embracing current status quo

but calling out injustice. Do they remember

when they echoed Marley's call to throw

oppression down and Free Nelson Mandela?

Complacency opposes something new

do they believe that Russians love their children too?

Sunday, 29 June 2025

29th June 2025

anti-trans rhetoric

openly celebrated

pro-Palastine criminalised

I recall well the gathering of friends

to party while my father was away

and in the morning sought to make amends

by sweeping all the floors by light of day.

The vacuum cleaner had so little power

it would take a dozen passes to make clean

and that's exactly what this Flymo mower

does upon the grass grown summer green.

The first pass takes a few stalks, it is true,

although it takes a hefty strength to push

and pull in a repeating motion few

would have stamina to beat around the bush.

The wire which feeds it power is too short

though it does collect the cuttings, as it ought.

Saturday, 28 June 2025

28th June 2025

The Scottish Play

extends its curse to doormen:

"Have a quiet night"

Who am I to careful wash and rinse clean

the stinky pouches of my dog's food packs

and make sure every piece of cardboard's been

freed of sticky tape and food-contaminated backs;

To separate my batteries and old wires

and put out rusty metal for the scrap;

refrain from burning green wood on my fires

and not recycle plastic birthday wrap.

While Bezos and his friends are burning cash

and jet in private planes across the sky

to have a destination wedding bash

and bask beneath the Papparazi eye.

The resources of a singe wedding attendee

wastes a lifetime of recycling by me.

Friday, 27 June 2025

27th June 2025

Glastonbury weekend

I was 25 last time I went.

Too crowded now.

Not since the Thatcher years have I felt fear

of Russian missile strikes on English shores

and in my twenties then, I held life dear

but now the world's no longer mine, but yours.

I remember well the plans I had conceived

to drive away from every city build

and take with me the horded pills I saved

to die in peace and not from radiation killed.

Reagan was the president with fingers splayed

and hovering above the threat of war

but his Retiredactor diatribe

was naught compared to your impeachment golfing whore.

So now my plans for when the siren shrieks

is hug my dogs and hope my shadow finds release.

Thursday, 26 June 2025

26th June 2025

self portrait

first in thirty ears

I haven't changed

If I was Alexander facing Thebes

would I still decide to burn it to the ground

as punishment for rebellious thoughts and deeds

but leave the poet Pindar safe and sound?

I'd like to think I am more civilised

if I possessed such vast amount of power

and no matter how the residents despised

my regime I would spare them at the hour.

The bunker beneath London aptly named

after the poet who survived the ancient blaze

is ready to receive the men who blamed

that World War Three will start in next few days.

But can I even claim to have the worth

when I’d willingly assassinate a Terf?

Wednesday, 25 June 2025

25th June 2025

morning jiu-jitsu

armbars and kimuras

ragged dog toy

The funerals of friends are hard enough

made worse by those still full of petty spite

when once you were a friend and my love's love

you now make petty jibe and snarkful bite.

Ere lowered into earth, thus mutual friend

filled the world around her with good cheer

But disavowed, her memory you rend

with petty jibes o'er willow woven bier.

I trust that one day you'll mature enough

to leave behind such sad and jealous woe

for the love we had was made of sterner stuff

and this an unforgiving line to toe.

When for love you find yourself one day denied

Come knock upon my door and be welcome inside.