A Rhyme for Britain's Bankers

Good afternoon readers,
This week, we've been looking at the theme 'Now with one hand', which instantly got me thinking of those who give with one and take away with the other. What could possibly tie that to a poetry blog? A poem for the bankers of course...

A Rhyme for Britain's Bankers

Welcome aboard the bonus boat
Where money flows wild and free
These are the folks keeping Britain afloat,
They're much smarter than little old me.

They've wrangled a loophole to bypass the law
For each scandal their pay has gone up
With their dividends booming they're as rich as before
When they crashed us and forced all the cuts.

But listen they say, this is not all our fault
We aren't cutting, we work in the city
My meagre pay is just 10k a day
Any less would make life somewhat gritty.

Oh poor Mr Banker, you're good at your job
But not better than ten dozen men.
Why can't you see that if this doesn't stop
We'll be back where we were once again.

With the one hand you're taking the risks with the clicks
With the other you're wiping your brow
If it was your money, would you still swing your dick
The game's over, you've out-milked the sow.

Thanks for reading,
Shaun.

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Leading the way

Never underestimate feelings. The power that accompanies emotion and thought. It can be truly scary just how deep and passionately they run.  I never fully understood this until I became a Parent. It is so strong it can take your breath away and any Parent would probably say the same.

The message becomes simple: "Mess with my child in any way, shape or form, and I will destroy you with my bare hands.  I will rip your innards out through your stomach, and shove them either back down your throat after soaking them in sulfuric acid, or wrap them with barbed wire and insert them into another orifice".  Simples, right?!  Underneath my cool, calm exterior, sleeps a most savage beast, but people don't really talk about that side of parenthood do they really?

It is because of this force, that Parents find it hard to let go when their children grow up, leading to a depression commonly know as "Empty Nest Syndrome".  Again, it is something that you can't really describe unless you've experienced it.  I do know however, that I am dreading that day when my Son flies away, independent.  I imagine it will bring feelings of pride, alongside feelings of abandonment and uselessness.  Scary.

So with that in mind, I wrote this poem for my son.  He won't understand it until he's much older, probably after having kids of his own, but at least he will see the depth of my love for him.


Now, with one hand:

You were once so small
Vulnerable
Reliant and frail
And with the most primeval love
Both my hands
Cared, guided and protected.

For now, you're still young
Growing
Learning and loving
So with the fiercest love
I'll still care, guide and protect
Only, now, with one hand.

In the future you'll stand tall
Prepared
Independent and strong
But with the most fearful love
These devoted hands 
Will be forced to release you

When that time comes
Never be afraid 
To take my hand once more
It will always be unwavering and open
Your grasp seeking
And yet reassuring.



So there you go, my soul laid bare.  I hope you feel it comes close to how you feel about your kids too.
Thanks for reading. x

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Reading: The Next Generation

Like any aspiring poet I love books. Real books. The ones with spines and pages which discolour over time. The ones given as gifts with their personalised messages. The ones carrying signatures of the writers/poets I’ve met.

Within our tiny basement flat these books own a large percentage of the available space: crammed on bookcases, double stacked on shelves, piled on top of wardrobes and tucked into nooks. There are designated areas for poetry, fiction, art and the academic; hundreds of books decorating our home and filling it with words, imagination, knowledge, beauty and inspiration.

When I was little, after visiting a National Trust property, I dreamed of a house with a library, with bookcases so tall I’d require a ladder like Belle’s (from Beauty and the Beast) to reach the upper shelves. Despite neither of these things materialising the books did. They’ve accumulated in great numbers over the years, and I can chart some of the most significant times in my life by simply looking at the books around me. Therefore, the idea of storing away future markers inside a shiny electronic ‘book’ has never really appealed.

A few years ago when e-readers started to appear, and quickly became a must-have gadget for any avid reader, I stood strong. In fact I was almost Luddite in my thoughts towards them, refusing to own one and ranting that they could never substitute a proper book. However, I’ve finally relented and now find myself in the midst of books in 21^st century format.

I wish I could say I absolutely hate my Kindle Fire, to say otherwise sort of feels like I’m cheating on the paperback. But I’ve (perhaps a little too speedily) fallen in love with this shiny rectangle. I can buy books without worrying about where to store them. I can read in the dark, and even change from white ‘paper’ to black ‘paper’. With just a single press on a word I can look up its dictionary definition, I can highlight without vandalising, make notes and store interesting quotes. I don’t need a makeshift Rizla bookmark because it remembers my page, and can even calculate my reading speed.

 I’m currently reading The Passage by Justin Cronin – in paperback form its 1008 pages means it has a 6cm spine and weighs over 700 grams, however, in e-book form this book’s difficult-to-hold size is reduced to the dimensions (186 X 128 X 9.0mm) and weight (303 grams) of my Kindle: so light and manageable I can hold it comfortably with one hand.

So, I guess you could say this traditional reader has been converted, but not completely…  I will never get rid of the books I currently own and I won’t stop purchasing real books; I’ve already vowed to only buy poetry in hardback and paperback form. And while the new way of reading has its advantages, the old way will always have its place - no amount of free e-books will ever fill me with the same excitement as a second-hand bookshop (however hard they are getting to find).

Thanking you for reading,

Lara

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