Fake Plastic Socialist Poets By Joe Hakim

Bleating like sheep, repeating the same old tired shit over and over again. Like a washed up nightclub singer doing requests, you beat on your chests in a rhythm I've heard a thousand times before; it was boring the first time I heard it, and it's still boring now, watching you plough the same patch of barren earth, a dearth of new ideas as your fears become a reality, and you kiss goodbye to any hope of originality in your desperate scramble after a mirage of notoriety. Thinking you're some kind of literary aristocracy, sycophantic royalty, your piety sickens me - every time you open your mouth it's like listening to a school kid reading out a GCSE essay on Marxist theory. I respond with ferocity; it might not be pretty but at least it's from the gut - I'm not afraid to put my money where my mouth is, the words burning as they pour out like a toxic waste spill that kills the local wildlife.

So stick another knife in my back, and continue your journey down a well-beaten track - there's no way back for your kind. I'm sure in your own minds you're up there with guys like Dylan or John Cooper Clarke, but the truth is you're stumbling around in the dark trying to put parts together that just don't fit, your democracy is actually a dictatorship, an opportunity to roll out your 'greatest hits', constantly harping on about over-inflated past glories, incoherent politics and stories that are supposed to make you appear unique, raise you to the status of legend in your own little clique - the guys you hang out with, the same ones who are always there when you speak. So I'm leaving you to it; your lame quest to turn ragged lyrics into riches, a bunch of snivelling snitches who are so far up each other's arses you're practically prison bitches.

Copyright © Joe Hakim 2006

Poetry - Coffee In Plastic Cups By Shaun Heesom
	In a railway station buffet I thought I'd had enough Of dim lit lamps and smelly tramps And coffee in plastic cups We sat there for hours Before last you went away We spoke of dreams and desired themes Read more...

Poetry - Loafer Party Conference By Patrick Henry
	The Loafer Party Conference meets at Muckcluster Railway Station: No more dodgems or donkey-rides at some seaside soft option. Rail buffet sandwiches curl sadly, or else in contempt the way Prescott's lips snarl like a pit-bull; The Guardian of his Party, Prowling roofs nightly, scaring Read more...

Poetry - War Hero By Nikki Sheppeck

Don't pity me, Don't ask me why ? Don't judge me on my circumstance, Don't feel the need to hold me tight, Don't pay attention to my plight, Don't be so harsh, I had no choice. My doubts convict my very soul.    Read more...

Poetry - Here Comes Another Daydream By Sean Davey

Here comes another daydream, You're here, I see your face! I feel a poem coming from inside of me The words slip into place. I focus on your lovely smile, To an artist, what a prize! It's then I have to look away,    Read more...

Poetry - The Undiluted Genius Of Arnold Schwarzenegger By Joe Hakim

What the hell are you? Billy, get to the chopper. See you at the party, Hauser. Let off some steam, Bennet. I will terminate obesity in all    Read more...

Poetry - The Law's The Law By Del Abe Jones.

	We forgive too many crimes And we say that it's okay Go ahead and break the Law We don't mean them anyway. They're enforced when they suit us Or we'll pretend we didn't see Read more...

Poetry - The Dog Ate My Lottery Ticket By Beth McGann.

	The dog ate my lottery ticket So I turned him into a rug Made his teeth into a necklace and his bollocks into a top pair of earrings. oh, no, it wasn't a winning lottery ticket, I just couldn't stand the dog. Read More

Poetry - The Girl Who Brought The Shopping By Shaun Heesom
	The girl who brought the shopping Through wind and rain and snow Was more of a friend than I realised And I was less of a friend than I know For a time we were good mates You could say we were close for a while I went to her house and she to mine Read more...

Poetry - On Beginning To Recognise Moss By Beth McGann.

	I've had my dog for a year and a half now I love her to bits (as they say on Jeremy Kyle) But she's not the brightest spark in the funeral pyre She can't pass anything without sniffing it first She's petrified of missing a morsel (We call her The Hoover; I'm going to Read more...

Poetry - Family Fortunes By Mike Watts
	My sister Susan is dead. My parents too. They're both buried With dad's lot, where mother's on top For a change. The second to drop One gin-filled evening, I was there As she bounced off every stair. And later, to ease the grief Read more...

Poetry - Thoughts Broken Like Glass On A Pavement Outside The Pub By Joe Hakim

I don't check what they are before I take them just throw them into the back of my mouth like a giant radioactive lizard from a comic book eating the general public    Read more...

Poetry - Perfect Flower, Love and I Missed You 3 Poems By David Morris

	When you're with someone A person you care for deeply You can't imagine anything else You have the undeniable feeling. I can't stop thinking about her Enjoying the time we spend together This whole thing is an experience Read more...

Poetry - A Day To Remember By Del Abe Jones.

	Anniversary is not a proper word To mark the meaning of that day And now, five years from that date Is not nearly far enough away. Too many families and loved ones Still feel that pain down in their soul From the Towers to the Pentagon Read more...

Poetry - High Summer In A Field By The A1079 By Beth McGann.

	The sungod has pulled the day's tinderbox-taut Until they slow down And stick. Like great white mirage-stones waiting to be snapped like a brittle bleached bone, So each stolen move of air Read more...

Poetry - The Deciding Test By Patrick Henry
	It's not cricket, old boy; never like this among The Members at Lords. We played the game, not sledging and slanging these bad words. An Aussi Umpire gruff as a bear: a stern Paki, each call each unfair. War is diplomacy by another means. Read more...

Poetry - Terminal Crisis By Patrick Henry
	Icarus on wax wings crashed failing to reach the sun. Quest for the sun in sure, high-speed flying, carries on For those from grey islands who long for Tenerife: Long since Icarus, the journey easy, safe and brief, Planes go faster, but airport queues grow long and slow. Soon round the world in one Read more...

Poetry -One She Was In Care By Michelle Dee
	So, she took her first gulp of air At the age of one she was in care Father in prison, mum nowhere "She's got something wrong with her heart" they told her. "That's why she doesn't love you, Read more...

Poetry - Be all you want to be By Michelle Dee
	Being all you want to be For you meant the world to me Would be good to set you free Being all you want to be Maybe you could not believe See you smiling in my sleep Read more...

Poetry - Novel Moves to Montmartre By Patrick Henry
	Place Cliché high on city squalor reeks of Henry Miller or Henri Toulouse- Lautrec, And one character here come-lately. I invent myself in a cheap attic Down Rue Barbes, Street of Beards, at times assuming the guise Read more...

Poetry - Let's Blow Up America By Patrick Henry
	Stan Freeberg writes the scenario, Tom Lehrer does the songs, "Let's Blow Up America", best musical since Springtime for Hitler won the gongs, When Jews of Manhattan broke a leg to get hot tickets to catch Read more...

Poetry - The Fallen By David Morris

	The church bell tolls It's heard 61 times In honour of those who have fallen In honour of those who gave their lives. Those who battled for us They won us our freedoms Remember those who did that Read more...

Poetry - Jimmy By Shaun Heesom
	Jimmy was a Corporal, he went to fight in France Ellis only had one leg, so couldn't really dance Aunt Ada came with Ellis, her house so dark 'n' grim "Come into the parlour", and me Dad shoved me in Laura worked in a butter factory, on the banks of the Hull Jimmy shaved in an enamel bowl, Laura kept it full Inside an air raid shelter, Read more...

Poetry - I Confess By Mike Watts
	Coming home one Friday night Scranning burgers and half pissed Me and a mate stopped to talk to three prossies All smoking in the doorway of a charity shop. "What would I get for a quid?" Me mate said belching and flicking onion Read more...