Poetry Corner


If Streets Were White. 5th July 2016.

All the things you’ve hated, all that you abhorred
You gave in to a poster to start your bloody war
Graffiti on our doorways, signs upon our streets
Now you bait with poisoned blood the folks you used to greet.


The infidel you dare to hate, fought by your fathers’ sides
And died for you, you lowlife, your freedom was their pride
They lie beneath some foreign field, that is now their home
They fought for you, their future sons, now look what you’ve become.


Defence Leagues dressed like terrorists, slits made for their eyes
They’re our neighbours, sons and daughters, on our streets but in disguise
Some don’t know what they stand for, they’re too young to know what’s right
But they’ve been told supremacy only comes in one shade: White!


Your fathers fought the Nazis and you fascists are their sons
You’re living in a far off place, that war was lost and won
If you think what you do is right, then read the next line lads,
Guten morgen we’re The Hitler Youth, it was us who killed our dads!

Paul Colvin.

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1 reply »

  1. There are so many great things about being human, but one of the more questionable aspects is this ‘them and us’ stance. I don’t know why why we do it, but it appears to be something in us, right through time.
    Two poems, one by Mike and one by me, both written some time ago –

    Mike’s poem…….

    Relativity for Beginners

    If East is East
    And West is West
    Then where, my dear, is here?
    It’s North of South
    And South of North
    And far from nowhere near.

    If Then was Now
    Then tell me how
    Tomorrow never comes?
    And some time soon
    Today has gone
    And the future’s not begun.

    If I to You
    Am you, not me
    Then tell me who are we?
    To them, they’re us
    And we are they
    To us, we’re me and thee.

    So Where and When
    And who you are
    Depends on where you stand
    So take another
    Point- of-view
    And join me hand-in-hand.


    My poem………….


    In Yorkshire, we say ‘F***’ a lot
    In Hertfordshire, they don’t.
    In Yorkshire, we eat pie & peas
    In Hertfordshire, they won’t.

    A Yorkshire man, will say what’s what
    In Herts., they keep it in.
    In Yorks., they sup on John Smiths Bitter
    In Herts., they sip on gin.

    Between North and South, there’s such division
    Why do they make a fuss?
    I suppose it’s just the human condition
    It’s always them and us.


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