Anti-globalism or A Spade?
February 07, 2017
Newsnight is glozing over what is happening?
Or are these shifts a matter of alignments
On other tracks than used to draw assignments
Of hopes in votes of principle? Or seemingly?
It was too shameful to admit to expediency.
Like sailing boats we turn, the breeze shall make us tack
Following the winds of rhetoricks and counter-fact
Cutting our anchors loose in squally seas
Hark there! the phoney trumps play what you please
Coccophanies of hectic perturbations
Peddled at once so no man’s ratiocinations
Are heard and tended to with common sense
Instead it’s raise a tariff build a fence
Thus mustered all our wishes make miscellany
No woman either might work harmony
From angry anxious wild uptight objections
For sovereignty, for jobs, and self-protections
In no good order of no formal shape
Just first beef past the post or through red tape
And senseless such political melee
Born of the passions, issues impropriety
Roses by other names, salutes to tribal schism
The foreign are unwanted by that very prism
The unashamed fall guys of the piece
Dare one to speak straight out – it’s about race?
Dare not to call a tariff self-interest
Dare not to call a wall-up inwardness
Which points to interest as number one
And what becomes of others? let them hum!
Is this resort to ‘me first’ what we are seeing
And are the newsnight people really lying
Putting their gloze on news to soothe the nation
And reinforce us in our abrogation
Of humankindness, outward-reaching favour
Instead to opt for barbarous behaviour?
Returning to a Dark Age of a feudal night
When each was held in thrall by war and fear of light
Are we descendents of Sennacherib
And scorning Whom the manger served as crib
Is this our heritage, and come to this,
Now Christendom a thing the serpent’s hiss
Drowns hearing of, the sacred scripture truths
The law of Love as paramount trod down on hooves
Of Baals and Beelzebubs and other fiends
Who will to do us ill and watse our means?
And choosing this ourselves our peace we shatter
Misprising all those things we think don’t matter
The truth is simple, does no spite at all
But there’s is no answer in a primal wail
Of agonised antagonisms bellowed out
A stomach wrung with choler and the crupper up
No good thing nor no lasting ever built on sands
Of hard self-serving narrowness, a contraband
Inversion of the German lady’s grace
Considered evil by who would deface
Her opened door to beggars, miring decent nations
Who seek to keep back succours from their rations
Of charitable leavings offered wretches
In border camps, and other useful fetches,
Seeking to keep these needy from their doors
Though giving all encouragement to their wars
That nation whose hard lesson we would yet it preach
A history of its universal wicked reach
Designs and fine solutions to quell otherness
Of foreign creeds and vagrant homelessness
By slaughter, persecution, massacre, starvations
That same nation the only holy exception
(One leper did return to thank the Saviour)
One woman now confronted an election
Threw open her heart and welcomed in the million
Whilst friends continue bridge and the cottilion
They dance, as Rome burns by incendiaries
Home manufactured in such leisured days as like these
All comforts, every product, every good
Around about displayed and broadly strewed
The shops’ overstocks pile high as Babel Tower
A graven image to consumer power
This has made us what we are; unkind, inhuman,
Ridiculers’ and scoffers’ catechumen
Having cast off a marvellous heritage
An old thing thought a sell-by-dated rag
As was that heritage first thought upon its making
The crowd Barabas above Jesus taking
As prize, and gave him liberty as crime’s
Reward, (the very symptoms we accord)
This blasphemy our crime that hinders help to souls
Before God makes us beggars for His sweet paroles
And nothing good comes to us of our spite
This notwithstanding that we think it might
The Lord and law of love spreads bounteousl forth
A natural order wherein by due course
His graces, gifts, and solemn amities
Abolish evil’s brave calamities
By secondary decree; the holy life is first
Thereafter follows all which of his purse
Can lavish on us to enough degree
Moreover thereby His loving breaks us free
You can also find this poem at steemit