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Poetry

The Big Idea.

Cameron's got a big idea, but what's it all about,

He says a Big Society this fills me with some doubt.

I've asked a lot of people, there's nobody can say,

But while he's not expounding, the dole queue grew today.

 

To join the Big Society will membership be free?

If there is a cost incurred I don't think it's for me.

There are very nearly all of us scraping on basic pay

Does he want us to be thankful? We're not, on the dole today.

 

Will it give us Tesco points? or air miles to collect,

Until he tells us clearly he won't get much respect.

He wants us all to volunteer, we can only hope and pray,

That Dave really does know, the dole queue grew today.

 

Dave wants his lot of volunteers, Community minded folk,

Be trained to do some no pay jobs he says it's not a joke.

A chosen few will train us, and get fifty pound a day,

And another two thousand joined the queue today.

 

While Lib and Tory toadies applaud this absurdness?

He wants us all, to do much more, while they do so much less.

Us plebs make sacrificial cuts, while MPs are making hay,

Nobody, from Downing Street, joined the dole today.

 

There's fifty thousand pounds to spend if you have a big idea.

The money comes from grannies bank, the one you didn't clear.

Three hundred million is lying there, he'll steal it that's is OK,

And he does not give a monkey's about the dole today.

 

I'll volunteer for a surgeon, specialise in lobotomy.

We know he's lost his marbles, he could come to me.

I'd give him my best frontal, his fantasies to allay.

Then even he could volunteer, to join, the dole, today.

 

Eric Blackburn.

 

FIDUCIARY HUBRIS.

We can't have holidays this year,

The budget is too tight I fear,

They've made our money disappear,

We've not enough a buy a beer

 

The men with all the banking brain,

Protest when governments, constrain.

That their profession is most arcane

While they practise, legerdemain.

 

To folk who had not means to pay,

Those on which the loan sharks prey.

Bankers lent and they made hay,

Neither cared there'd be hell to pay.

 

Nemesis played her fickle game,

There was much claim and counterclaim.

Politicians mouth never again, again.

The Bankers sought to avoid disdain,

 

Consumed with avarice, and rash,

They said we're sorry we've lost your cash.

Excused themselves with such panache,

Lined their pockets and made a dash.

 

Eric Blackburn.

 

Fiddlers Free.

Since I was voted to be an MP, for a middle England constituency.

I never need to touch my pay; I can save the lot for a rainy day.

I took the advice from all my peers, and settled all my bank arrears.

I charged for a mortgage I hadn't got, and dossed in with my auntie Dot

Factitious claims could stretch a mile,the things I claimed would make you smile.

One didn't need to be discreet or record on a balance sheet.

I once claimed for a steeple Jack, to go and point my chimney stack.

On the mortgaged house I didn't own, but I got an increase on the loan.

My voters are devoid of brain, to go and vote me back again.

I'll make my hypocritic oath and carry on just like a sloth

To voters I will thank and drool but send my kids to some posh school

I'll never ever defy the whips and go on lots of jolly trips.

I'll never ever declare my gain on accruals from legerdemain

I'll barely mention my hardship and someday I will make lordship.

 

Eric Blackburn.