Are We Nearly There Yet? There are always the days we will want to forget … … but will sadly remember. Sliding scales on a downward trend, From Octobers to Novembers and round the bend to Groundhogged Yule logs and “we never knew, there’d be, Nothing new … new years”. A million resolutions in leu of a revolution, That may or may not be televised, Yet needs to be realised, so we can claim the real prize, Of a righteous constitution, Get wise and reject the compromised refrain That you can expect to hear again and again … Turn and face the strain … ch … ch … changes Are what we need To ensure it’s more than just the chosen few … Who succeed. Because the criteria for choice is skewed And when you allude to wealth being a measure of achievement, I can see common sense has suffered a bereavement. And while you may be vehement in your disagreement, I will take your opinions on board … Like a ship’s captain takes on board infected rats, Yeah … call me a bigot, you fucking fat cats, Getting morbidly obese as you feed us scraps, Diverting world attention with fabricated facts. You know a few bullshit brass tacks Will get the wide eyed plebs and proles, Behaving and berating like arseholes. “It’s the immigrants, it’s the poles, it’s no border controls, That will bring England the brave to her knees … It’s asylum seekers, it’s refugees!” As they digest a diet of right wing nob cheese. Millions stare salivating as privileged classes gorge their arses, Suckling on an unsustainably swollen breast, Mother knows best but is repeatedly raped by the beast, The one percent … Triggering a winter of discontent that will last for all seasons, Where the pursuit of peace is labelled treason … And if money is not your God … You’re considered a heathen. This well established establishment of yours Continually skips through revolving doors of plenty, While our continuous chores leave our bellies empty Is that how it’s meant to be? You’re busy manipulating the subjectivity Of fairness and equality, Blatantly dragging out your career’s longevity, Spitting on morality and your personal integrity … If you ever had any. You move the goalposts so often these days, You’ve put them on castors, Anxious dancers for your puppet masters, Attention diverters from displeasing disasters, “So sorry we killed and maimed and hurt yer, But you got in the way of our ‘cash converter’!” I face palm myself so much these days, my cheek’s gone red, Tossing and turning in bed, While I figuratively and literally pull hair from my head, Common senses dead or too close to death … Even my scrabble tiles keep coming up with “WTF”. So as we drive down the road toward equity, Through the wind and the rain and the snow And the kids ask “are we nearly there yet dad?” “Well kids … we’ve a long way to go”.

Fodder, they are just fodder. Front line, masked heroes. Bowing to their commander. Boris Johnson, What a proper plotter. Face up to it folks. They are just fodder. Keep the working classes in order. Whilst we are safe in our mansions and gardens. Keep them, Bowing to their commander. No sir, this is not tory slander. It is a reality. Disabled, old and key workers. Fodder they are just fodder. So smile at them, You safe applauder. Clap at them for getting, Sick, sick, sick, sick and sicker. Bowing to their commander. No more PPE, Till there all a gonner. Just keep on clapping son. Coz they are fodder, Just fodder. Front line masked heroes. Bowing to their commander.

Argumentum ab auctoritate More than we can tolerate Kurfuffle with Dfeffle, people Vote Poroging criminal The Carehome killer from a Privileged position, neither PPE provision nor Honourable ambition Dysfunctional track and trace purveyor From an incompetent brexiteer Bojo Hero of St James, Fake sore throar, Not in my name! Fish rots from the head down Safety advice from the wicked clown International laughing stock Lie to the queen, delay lockdown. Print it on a bus, Boris we Don’t believe a word inside your refrigerator Self-isolating, traitor Make the rich richer, paint This grotesque picture, fight For the right to vote the your favourite Psychopath self-beneficial How’s your eyesight? comings-and-goings, pay the Price of his Wrongdoings and three word slogans That’s not a crown, it’s just his hair but He’s the real virus. Donald’s stockpile of Remdesivir denied us, wash for 20 seconds 2020 - the year the world changed forever The only solution is allowing the NHS to access your big data - as we speak the NHS is being sold to make the worst 2% of us more influential But we can still save lives now, and you know they’ll get it sooner or later

Up on a pedestal built of ignorance sits Bozo Boris smugly grinning He stutters his way through press appearances Pretending he has a heart Faking his ability to lead us through crisis We are meant to trust a man who cant even brush his own hair Yet his dad asks "can the working class even spell Pinocchio?" As we see through the lies that drip like infant dribble From the mouth of his fuckwit son. Can you spell integrity? Or better yet, give me the definition of competency! My 4 year old daughter is more clued up on how to stay safe from corona Than the man who is responsible for running our country Running it into the ground more like Then he has the absolute audacity To be proud of his fictitious achievements Has his supporters crying like children in a playground That those who hold him accountable for his actions are just plain mean "Stop bullying him, he has a hard job He had corona too, didn't you see?" Well I'm sure as hell he suffered more comfortably than you or me Had the best possible care No waiting to be ventilated Having his ass saved by the very people he claims are unneeded Foreign Drs who are at risk of being sent back to where they came from Funnily enough lands they were never actually born Pakistan? No, Boris, I'm sure you mean Birmingham! But please, continue to tell us that we will be safe As long as the british public use common sense "Cents? But we're British we use pounds and pence!" You're expecting idiots to be smart But at what expense? We are your guinea pigs The lab mice that you test your crazy theories on Herd immunity But not in your rich, prestige community Let the commoners go first See what happens when the pandemic is at its worst a few hundred thousand fogies and scroungers wont be missed Less money spent on the benefit scum More money to spend on expenses so you don't have to take a pack lunch from home Claim the cost of that £15 sandwich back Never mind that you could feed a school kid for a week with that But £75 a week for a man to literally live off Oh, how vile of him to take from tax payer's money a measly sum to get gas and leccy When you get paid a fortune to talk out of your arse Cupboards I doubt are sparse So why do you need to be paid back money spent on fancy meals Your second homes And dodgy deals? When you say the word scrounger look in a mirror Look at your friends in parliament And you'll see one clearer The sooner you are gone the better We need an actual leader One who sees the world clearer Who is neither rude, racist nor crass A leader who is there for his people no matter their class At this moment, anyone but you.

Liar, liar, pants on fire! I’m sure I heard him right! I check my ears for wax or worse, My signal, my sanity – But now Brazen He repeats his phrases His false praise His promises His hollow promises. I check again And again I’m sure you are all doing it too – That ‘Come again?’ moment, Open mouthed Gob-smacked Horrified Frozen Moment? Liar, liar, pants on fire, Don’t you hear the national cry of anguish? Don’t you feel the slow ooze of contempt Trickling Slowly Dribbling out on prime time TV? Liar, liar, pants on fire, Smug, secure from real scrutiny, Immune from the soft touch queries, The neutered, pointless, polite enquiries Cushioning your fall from grace. I’m sure I heard you right, But looking around me I shrug, Slip into easy denial, Join the hopeless cases And breath in Your praise for ‘our great nation’……’the best, the best, the best…’ Your meaningless promises of safety. Your lies Your sweet, sweet lies! Your poison. I swallow your poison, Roll over with the rest Sinking below the watershed In silence. Liar, liar, pants on fire, Feel the love, Smirk at the passing parade, The cortege, And the nation, in grief Simply Lets you off this time With a smile And a last hapless breath. Andy Summers May 2020

I don’t have a problem with use of the term ‘vulnerable people’ in this crisis, But I do have an issue with the way the government and the press have used it to stop society’s osmosis Of respect and empathy between different sections of society, So that if people do discriminate against others they no longer have to take proprietary. There is an extreme overuse of ‘only’ as a prefix to the phrase, It almost seems that in this new normal inclusion is a forgotten craze, Now it seems possible that the we are not part of the government’s recovery plans, Some of us have even been asked to sign DNRs to make room for people that can’t be bothered to wash their hands. The vulnerable are people, The vulnerable are sons and daughters, The vulnerable are mothers and fathers, The vulnerable are brothers and sisters. The vulnerable are valuable, The vulnerable are activists, The vulnerable are role models, The vulnerable are the future. In this comic book apocalyptic world don’t forget about the people you expect to be super humans, Because there is no Charles Xavier in the government to treat us as ordinary humans, Please don’t just abandon the people that you cheered on with signalled virtue, We need people with your privilege to carry us in the public mood.

There’s vacillation and no vaccination for the nation at this crisis point of pandemic survival Now wagging fingers apportion blame and wage war simultaneously before lifting bureaucratic shovels and shift shit faster than gearing up the released Prometheus juggernaut of C19 as it cuts along the one way dotted line of blame culture tearing up the pathways poisoning the arteries choking off the lungs as it road rages through hit and run after hit and run It’s indiscriminate nature underlines the fact that there seems no clear leadership in these furloughed fields/streets of the nation’s health when all the public wants and all the public expects is not what the public is going to get from the decision makers and commitment haters who have followed the health science to the economic crossroads only to turn right at the junction towards disassociation tactics and the concept of it’ll all be over when it’s over and more importantly when we say so Acceptance now that track and trace Satnavs have lost connection and have no way of seeking out detection Respect has gone The leaders have shifted their ministerial handclap to assigning and apportioning blame to where they say it went wrong as long as it wasn’t them Half the population is still in mindful lockdown The other half not so if it means getting a pint on the Costas The facts have disappeared from our five o’clock screens and health expert challengers to government decisions have been removed from causing too much media embarrassment Arguments are hushed and lulled into a false sense of security that goes beyond a measure of tape on carpeted floor In a marbled hall snake pits of hissing whispers that become bellowing rumours protested misinformation that will be bleached from whitewashed walls that witness words but won’t write history when all this is tested contested and accounted for against the statistics of death and illness Of bleating politicians apologising for not having a disaster plan when a disaster was potentially imminent Of having poor infrastructure Talking about big numbers index linked to pound signs and throwing money at anything giving the sense of positive usefulness Used to assuage failure and guilt should they ever feel it as they demonstrate simpering empathy where possible and pouring out insincere sincerity over the gaping wounds of personal and financial loss and in so doing pay the sweatshops of the world to pay pittance and manufacture safety equipment by the million then tell us we are well equipped Tell us there is no risk in shaking hands Tell us we have nothing to worry about before locking us down and guiding us not to see anyone except in our social bubbles of conscience that drift past living room windows in waves of emotional relief And still no one knows where the Covids lie Are they in fact fact or another fake news day? Fictional characters of a confused mind’s eye? And no one knows whatever belies the source and transmission of the unseen enemy within And no one knows even though we try to understand the risk The assessment The probability The contractability The contactability The R factor X factor of percentages of percentages And who will live and who will die amongst ruined truths and constitutional lies and will the epitaph of this pandemic read of genuine sorrow and loss and professional sacrifice or be one of mixed political and social apathy and the ignored advice from the suited world of a World Health academic?

(By AJ Ball) You killed my faith, in the system, in democracy, through lies, greed fear, and hypocrisy. Pushing rules, and regulations too far strayed from the confines of rationality. Common sense taken a back seat to your misguided driven philosophy. So let's de throne this jester, looking like a wet lettuce, empty headed child molester. The future's not set in stone. Every government fears to be overthrown. Because any king can lose his head, as history has shown. (By Blind Johnny Smoke) In lies you trust The structure of morality rusts The concrete foundation of our democracy is cancer ridden The values at its core now all too well hidden Feigned compassion that never actually happens Thin sincerity that's an insult to our dignity So called expertise in a disease rife in communities That you wouldn't set a foot in Unless election day was coming And you need our renewed permission To carry on your devious mission To cement your seat of power While the proles die by the hour Cos you can live with those casualties In your twisted brand of democracy But remember The future is not set in stone Every government fears to be overthrown Because any king can lose its head As history has shown

1. Lie like a cartoon villain. This is an essential part of disguising your ineptitude, lack of humanity and your inability to do anything that is not in the interest of yourself. 2. As McFly once said ... “It’s All About You”. So don’t forget it. Anything that appears to be, even marginally, good about what you do is purely consequential and unintentional. Remember caring and compassion are weaknesses. 3. Make sure you know the cost of everything, but do not concern yourself with the value of anything. Saving a hundred grand on a community facility is money in the bank. Don’t worry yourself with the consequences of this saving and the fact that it may well run into millions. This will be picked up by your friends in “private enterprise”, who donate to your party and keep you in power. So that’s money well spent. 4. Change your mind ... a lot! This will give the impression that you’re “following the science”, when in actual fact, you are following the money. 5. Avoid difficult situations by hiding in a fridge. It is better to, literally, have eggs in your face, than figuratively, having egg on your face. The same can be said about milk shakes, though these appear to be restricted to blatant racists, rather than closet ones, for the time being. Your time will come, so find a convenient SMEG to hide in. 6. Make sure your friends and party donors take priority over hungry children. It really is astonishing how very little food one can buy with £30, isn’t it? Remember when mater used to give you £30 pocket money in the sixties and it was almost enough to maintain your coke habit? Well, those days are gone! Gruel just isn’t what it used to be! 7. Employ, promote and grandstand non white party members and M.P.’s in an attempt to show how wonderfully diverse and culturally aware you are. Rejoice in the fact that there is no monopoly of scummery, so when you are called out as a racist, you can wheel out that old trope, “How can I be racist when I have black and brown friends and colleagues?” Remember that references to Muslim women looking like letterboxes and black people being piccaninnies with watermelon smiles, is just a bit of good ‘ole English banter.

All these dazy Stockholm syndrome sufferers Beg for my restraint from the inside of their comforters And I’m so tired I’m just waiting for when they come for us, So I can turn to you and say I guess Londinium was right then, huh? Its like they’re saying “I know there’s legitimate Criticism but now why bother?” Like I’m not supposed To say they’re using “key workers” As cannon fodder. We’re usually accused Of playing political football, But at these times We’re all stuck inside And they need a new way to describe That phrase so that it applies to all. So, this is it: “Politics Soup” And if you can’t swallow, I’m sorry, but I won’t hide Behind until whatever time Is convenient for you. Because neither the virus Nor the rights are getting better, That’s the truth. Frankly, we should make political capital Out of difficult times, Because difficult times Are where the hearts and minds Of others, cannot be made docile Or their attention not set aside By the latest treat, Or celebrity headline. So yes, I apologise That my existence Is inconvenient. But at this juncture The correct attitude Is not to be lenient, But instead, to hold a knife To the throat of the establishment. For that “wait and see” mentality Trotted out Rodney King to give a speech, Bruised and beaten as he was he pleads For you to stop the violence please But the verdict remained 4 “Not Guiltys” And whilst I’m not yet advocating anarchy And I in society still just about believe What I’m saying is that The results can be foreseen. For some of the measures Simply do not seem Necessary for protection. 2 and a half years’ detention? Where’s the justification? When the W.H.O. says 14 days isolation? And however could these policies Not exacerbate discrimination Happening up and down the nation If you’re black or if you’re Asian Whilst the media machine has shut down proper debating Under the guise of not politicising tragedy. But to those of us with eyes the tragedy’s About to begin, As military boots step over bodies And as the truncheons ring, If only we had seen it coming, Oh wait, we did. And the majority of the body politic Spent time only shunning our warnings. Accusing us of running, before the community could walk Well, I’m pleased to tell you now, it is too late to talk. It’s already law.

On the 26th January 2021, the U.K. reached a terrible milestone. One of the worst to be recorded – to be displayed in history books of our future – marking this day. Over one hundred thousand Covid-19 deaths in the U.K. to date. Our country holds the fifth in the world – worst death rate. We hang our heads in shame knowing actions were delayed. The Prime Minister stands before the Nation extending sympathy to those who grieve: the many thousands of bereaved whose ‘fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, daughters and sons, and… grandparents… have been taken.’ We ‘Stay at Home’ to ‘Stay Safe’. We do as we are told – to protect lives, to protect others from death; to protect the overstretched, bulging, bursting, overflowing torrent of Covid-19 patients pouring into hospitals, flooding the N.H.S. Yet I am not proud. I am not proud of the U.K. - the mistakes that have been made. The delayed original lockdown should have been brought in earlier so more lives could have, would have been saved! Lessons not learnt. The Prime Minister states that ‘we did everything we could’ but he did not follow the lead of other countries locking down early to ensure Covid-19 could not spread and feed. So now, over one hundred thousand lives have been lost to date, over one hundred thousand dead – died a gasping, choking Covid fate. Lives gone. One hundred thousand husks of flesh left on cold mortuary slabs, stiff and grey, over one hundred thousand deaths and still rising like floodwaters today. The pandemic a ‘National Tragedy’. Our government has been ‘behind the curve at every stage’. We are a nation drowning – flooded by grief – and rage. MEL WARDLE WOODEND STAFFORDSHIRE POET LAUREATE 2019-2022 27/1/21

I am positive that I want us all to be safe, I am positive that I will do all I can not to spread this infection, I am positive that I don't want to see anyone else I know die from this thing I am positive that I have seen enough people around me falling dangerously ill with this thing. I am trying to stay positive. I am positive that life could be so much worse even now, I am positive that my own sacrificed freedoms are a trivial price to pay, I am positive that I AM still free, I positively feel appreciation for those who still have to face risks every day, I am positive we have a different and vibrant future I am positive that doors will open once more, I am positive that we will breathe deeply without being scared, I'm positive that nearly all of us can be stronger than before. I positively believe this. I do. I am also positive that this pandemic has been abused, I am positive that many power wielders need to stand accused, I am positive that I am suppressing the outrage that I am feeling, Towards those who have positively milked the cow of suffering. Positively rolling in profit from product, PPE and IT, R&D with a big slice off the top Cronyist favouritism and morbid opportunitistic knife parties, Driven by greed not need, profiting from disease, The foulest of deeds committed by the inept, While victims and bystanders simply wept. So many tears. I am positive that nearly all of us will get through this, I am positive that nearly all of THEM will get away with their viral sins, I am positive we need voices for change, To challenge corruption, to bring them shame, To aspire to leaders that serve us all not just the top one percent, To aspire to a humanist system not blind capitalism in government, I positively will be one of those voices, I positively believe that there must be better choices, I positively want our next steps to be taken with hope not fear For a brighter day, for a brighter year, It is not in my nature to give up, I am positive of that. I have hope.