Human As Well.
Life of privilege, deep breath and courage.
From utter luxury, to help the ordinary.
Going undercover, to discover.
The reality, of a local community.
To assess their plight, and assist their fight.
Situations then contemplates, all worthy candidates.
Time to come clean, and reveal their 'scheme'!
Their chance to share, for the millionaire.
And confess, the 'real' life they possess.
Easy to be critical, yes cynical.
Is it done out of guilt, their conscience felt?
Genuine is ther 'sell', showing they are human as well.
09/03/08
poem by Guy Lipmore
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Starstruck
So awe inspiring, just magic,
Head up to those twinkling skies.
Yes a feeling, very cosmic.
Observing with'Starstruck' eyes.
I stood there just looking,
Words I search to find.
Then they came, so fitting,
Certain words come to mind,
'Pin-holes in the curtain of night',
That line from the film, 'Highlander'.
A beautifully fantastic sight,
A sight of absolute wonder.
Twenty plus years, for that night,
Countryside skies so clear.
Because of pollution blight,
Urban sprawl, couldn't get near.
Glorious yet sad,
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poem by Guy Lipmore
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Pride Of The Flag
Fourth of August (1914) war was declared,
Thousands to the cause they flocked, they appeared not scared.
'Do their bit, do their stuff,
all be over by Christmas! ! '
Four years the war grinds back and forth, opposing lines,
carnage and brutality, as insanity shines.
750,000 had died,
200,000 plus never found, forever lost,
common sense it seems was never tried,
at unforgivable cost.
Generations perished,
what a price.
Is our freedom cherished?
Do we ever think of their ultimate sacrifice?
Pride of the flag,
to their deaths it did drag.!
poem by Guy Lipmore
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Strike.
Eleven plus years,
of frustration, enough is a enough,
Right or wrong, hopes and fears.
we called their bluff.
We will not win against this corporate giant,
at best cause them some embarrassment.
So hear we stand,
fight or fall.
We've shown our hand,
it's our call.
Raining on the picket line,
acting optimistic.
Underneath not so fine,
being realistic.
They were well prepared, no doubt,
before our action, the work was‘shared out'
Against them I stood firm,
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poem by Guy Lipmore
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Working Class Man
The‘working class'man comes home after a hard working day,
Another shift over, a step closer to a much needed wage or pittance of pay.
Trying his best to maintain his and family's basic needs,
Working through his life's prime.
Also trying to plan future seeds,
Until'his retirement time.
Forty years or more of graft and sweat,
At the end of it, What does he get?
Pat's on the back, handshake or maybe a golden watch that is already set!
To remind himself of the good and bad times he may have had,
A reminder if they were funny or sad.
A ticking memory of friends he made or met,
A‘time watch'to watch the pass of time that he's got left.
poem by Guy Lipmore
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Evil.
One, two, three, four bomb,
Carnage in London.
Evil did decide,
kill by suicide.
Scores dead, many maimed with changed lives,
daughters, sons, husbands, wives.
Evil had trod,
good had bled.
Not a matter of if, but when!
majority can't comprehend.
Evil had done it's deed,
Why on this do they feed?
What is the root cause?
whether political or religious wars.
Anger and disillusionment is being bred,
and vented with misguided hatred.
All four suspects‘home grown'it does appear,
foreign influence from far and near.
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poem by Guy Lipmore
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Stitched Up.
‘STITCHED UP'
IT WAS AN EMPHATIC REJECTION,
ALL SITES MADE THE SELECTION.
MORE THAN 98% OF UNION VOTED NO,
OUR COLLECTIVE STRENGTH WE SHOW.
FROM COLLECTIVE BARGAINING,
THE‘BALL'IS BACK TO THEM.
A‘MESSAGE'WE WERE SENDING,
INDUSTRIAL ACTION PENDING.
HOLIDAY, TWO WEEKS AWAY,
GOT BACK, IT'S ALL GONE ASTRAY.!
COMPANY PROPOSAL AMMENDED.!
UNION COMPRIMISED AND SURRENDED.!
SIMILAR‘DEAL'AT A PRICE,
THERE WAS AN EXTRA SACRIFICE.! !
A SECTION HAVE‘NO VOTE'SUDDENLY,
SO MUCH FOR YEARS OF LOYALTY.
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poem by Guy Lipmore
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Toe Saga.
Ready for the op' ready to go,
Ring up, its still okay.
Then they say 'No',
'No beds they say'.
Get there, they've got no x-ray, ?
'Oh dear' heard him say.
Go to the anesthetist,
First needle a doubt.
However he did persist,
And knocked me out.!
All done, 'Sandwich, cup of tea, '
'Bloody starving, yes please'I say with glee.
'Something for the pain',
'No'I say but yet again.
Both offers ‘two hours' late,
Tea warm, sandwich dry, pain stoppers had to wait.!
Asked, 'What op' did they do'?
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poem by Guy Lipmore
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Best Of The Best
Belfast born with magic feet,
Playing ball on cobbled street.
Something with him dwelt,
Something special he felt.
Spotted playing about,
By a Man'U scout.
Telegram was sent,
'I think I've found a genius', it went.
Fifteen years of age,
On the threshold of the national stage.
On his seventeenth birthday,
For the first team, he was to play.
Rave after rave review,
Of his debut.
Slight of frame,
Didn't hinder his game.
Flashes of his lightening speed,
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poem by Guy Lipmore
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vanished
Debts spiralling, one chance,
‘Fake death' and disappearance.
For the insurance claim, just one aim.
New future, ‘new life',
No one knew except his wife.
‘Terrible tragedy', 'Lost' at sea.
Massive search ensued, he was not ‘rescued'!
Presumed ‘dead', the lie was fed.
Family shattered to the core, Darwin ‘hidden' room next door.
Five years continued the sham' and the scam!
Finally their ‘luck' ran out, ‘caught'!
By ‘photo' on the net.
Brought back to book,
Their families it ‘shook'.
The World felt sorry for each relative.
Them left with a ‘life scar' despite the motive.
Their ‘Mum & Dad', sons' chose to ignore,
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poem by Guy Lipmore
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