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Utopia.

My motorway is crumbling,
With an enforced fifty limit,
And what is even more humbling,
Is there are speed traps in it,
Still now I use the extra petrol,
Paying more tax as result,
Vainly seeking for a reason,
Behind the latest congestion fault,
Taking solace from my car,
As it could have been the train,
Better to just be delayed,
Than never be seen again,
And stagger home as ever late,
To find a letter in the hall,
From a burglar who is suing me,
Over a dangerous interior wall,
That coupled with the TVs weight,
Caused serious damage to his spine,
So he cant get out now to burgle,
And its not his fault its mine,
At least he hasnt claimed at all
Loss of earnings to be backdated,
But before I can reply to him,
I have aal of it translated,
As he is not from these shores,
But just resident for a while,
So as they wont deport him,
I have to pay up and smile,
Luckily I may also pay myself,
From what I have been reading,
For being a victim of a burglary,
Im entitled to money from my speeding,
When caught recently at midnight,
Doing over twenty in a fifteen zone,
Coming up my private driveway,
To the entrance of my home.


Trust.

We are here to simply listen,
To every word you say,
We will surely then glisten,
What the mood is in this way,
So many start to chatter,
And forward on their views,
Little knowing it wont matter,
And will never make the news.

We are all for the truth,
For transparancy not lies,
So we can face our youth,
With honesty in our eyes,
So many believe the rhetoric,
And persuade themselves its true,
Little knowing its a set up trick,
To delude in all they do.

Its your right to protest,
And your heritage to march,
Where your complaint will be noticed,
And your presence will be large,
But no one hears the voices,
And the cameras arent even on,
The illusion is there are choices,
When in reality there are none.

So the listeners are all deaf,
Just ignoring as before,
They merely invent a virtual threat,
And plunge us all into war,
No one heeds a countries needs,
No one cares what we all feel,
Refusing to account for misdeeds,
Whilst we are forced to kneel.

For there is another way, onward,
They would have us all believe,
Much as glib tongued con would,
Seeking purely to deceive,
Lo, taxation will surely never change,
And great joy will fill the land,
Though our decisions seem a little strange,
Its all going just as planned.

Suddenly its rhetoric thats transparant,
And the listeners identify quiet nothings,
The glares now are quite apparant,
And the sound is muted frothings,
For the illusion is unravelling,
The promised land just as far away,
Their new ale isnt travelling,
And their house is in decay.

Do you believe a word they say,
Feel secure they are in place,
They promised us all their different way,
Then slapped us in the face,
Seemed to think we would just blink,
And take it in our stride,
Forget they tweak a dangerous link,
When they tamper with our pride.

They seem to deem us stupid,
Devoid of thought or reason,
And only ever act as cupid,
When its an election season,
Previously ministries made mistakes,
And cuckolded cogent cries,
But none before these raised our stakes
And made their art form out of lies.


Us.

Myths talk of hidden knowledge
Secrets of portent from antiquities tomb
They speak of a higher civilisation than us
But cursed with greed and aggression from the womb.
So though they moved at huge technological pace
Attaining heights of which we can only dream
Their treatment of the rest of the human race
Was patronising, and force used to extremes.
So a two tier world slowly grew into being
And the technology not used for love but war
And all the advances soon dissolved back into dust
All were wandering around with clubs once more
Just before this huge worldwide conflagration
Some wise heads stored away the knowledge of the day
And at some time in a more enlightened future
We could use their genius to help us on our way
It was intended we would have learned from before
And not made all the same mistakes again
We are supposed to take in all the gobis plus nevadas
And just use our technologies to help our fellow man.
So safeguards were put into place to guard them
So that they would only be viewed by the sane and calm
That is why they are still hidden away from us
As our present attitudes still set off their alarms.
We could use what we know to reap not sow
To cure, feed and to help our fellow men
Yet all we are doing with the power that we own
Is get to the stage where we blow it all up again.
We take for granted the little switch on our wall
The tap where water flows for such a simple turn
We assume the food will always wait in shops
All we ever have to do is go out and earn
What if tomorrow all the electricity died
What if our climate suddenly goes into reverse
Where is our ability then to fend for ourselves
In a world infinitely harsher, unfathomably worse.
We should use today and store away
All the knowledge and technology we can save
And pull together our world as one man
And not squabble when the earth can crush us in days
If we do not apply our current thinking and machinery
In a practical energy conserving continuum plan
Then it would matter little our colour creed or religion
We would all be back to prehistoric man
Just as those that preceded and knew more than us
Who travelled on a totally different plane
We will be brought back down to earth with a big bang
And have to start over from nothing once again
And there will not be houses and switches or taps
There wont be trains or supermarkets and cars
There wont be electricity or gas and running water
There wont be offices towns or bars
There will quite simply be just you and me
Trying to get enough food for which we crave
Then going out to collect the wood and the water
To keep us warm and alive inside our cave.


Grammar School.

I didnt favour fortune, didnt ask for fame
But I was chosen to perform well nonetheless,
Subjected by verbal torture, all of us the same,
To guarantee that we would be a success.
Told from the start, all were this breed apart,
An elite strongly striding all as one,
It is no surprise we touched the skies,
But a little so what we have become.

The seeds that they sowed long ago,
Still germinate every single year,
They affect our way we work and play,
Do those tenets we all held so dear.
For whilst being told in days of old,
We represented the best and chosen few,
Little was known and that has grown
To haunt us all anew.

We may be great, those not the late,
We may have life by the balls,
But we still respond, are to this day fond,
Whenever the old register is called.
Its easy to be deluded we are free,
That all the calls we make are ours,
But that denies the ancient cries,
That still have us in their powers.

Our trick is to know no matter where we go,
That we are programmed until we die,
Its only the knowing stops it growing,
Helps us laugh instead of cry.
You cannot select an elite elect,
From the aspiring lower middle class,
And expect anything less than pure excess,
When you are driven to surpass.

For everyone there, knew that they had to care,
This was their one chance to succeed,
You could not give in, you had to win,
Was the motto and the creed.
So all were primed and after some time,
Fired at the world outside,
Fully qualified and filled with pride,
But with a mission planted in our mind.

They gave us rules, they gave us tools,
The pure confidence to always succeed,
But displaced our will, which made us ill,
Caused excess to ferment and breed,
So though we won whatever race was run,
Though the winner thus inscribed,
What was the cost, and how much the loss,
To other aspects of our lives.

You cannot train, over and again,
Cannot relentlessly drive it home,
To always strive, to be the very best alive,
Never allowing our faults to roam,
Cannot preach for years, and instill fears,
That failure is not ever allowed,
And expect us to pull back for you
Have programmed us too proud.

If you are told you are gold
And all else is merely brass
If you are trained as if one brain,
To be a super performing class,
If you are taught, to stop at naught,
That only two hundred per cent will do,
Then no wonder why, so many have died,
With de rigueur the norm for you.

Those who are still not dead or ill,
Might do well to heed these lines,
We are living but unforgiving
Of these abuses of our minds,
Many of those from so long ago,
Are not with us any longer,
Driven to their death by instilled excess,
By the constant urge still stronger,
Than the sense to recline and take our time,
To enjoy, and not to be obsessed,
To finally relax and take it easy,
To take long deserved mental rest.
For only if we see, why it all came to be,
And why we tried so hard, for so long, and so true,
Will we break away, from yesterday,
And their ideal me and you.



Watchers.

Whilst walking in a silent space
Where even time stood still,
An instinct told me something,
Was watching me until,
Unable to control myself,
I whirled around to find,
That the eyes that were upon me,
Were just figments of my mind.


But though I had looked around behind,
And scanned all that was to fore,
The illusion would not leave me,
And pervaded all the more.
And though Im far away now,
In another time and space,
I know that its out there lurking,
For when I show my face.


Teacher.

You will do as I say boys,
Not a word raised in dissent,
Or youll be off to the headmaster,
Or the ruler will end up bent,
Across the backs of your knuckles,
Or a missile will be dispatched,
It may be chalk, slipper or wood,
And the accuracy cannot be matched,
For weve had many years of hard practice,
Of scaring already frightened little boys,
And we know all the tricks and dodges,
We know their unruly devious ploys,
We know it all only too well,
For all were there ourselves before,
But were not softened by the memory,
So dont hold out hopes on that score,
What was good for us will be good for you,
It will mould you into harder men,
So we have no sense of conscience ,
In dishing it all out again,
What this doesnt say is all they ever knew,
Is the old school, the old school, the old school,
No forays into the real working world,
Armed with inadequate impersonal tools,
They just subscribed to an archaic system,
That served well in a rigid puritan age,
Little realising the book had moved on apace,
And that were on a transient page.

So we have had to learn and tread our way,
In a world some little different to their plan,
And little suited to their subliminal imaging,
Of what they saw as the perfect grown man,
Able to confront the universe unaided,
Totally confident in all they do,
Does this really feel like me,
Does this really feel like you.
Im afraid what they envisaged
As the environment we would tread,
Was already crumbling when all were there,
And upon leaving was soon stone dead,
So though all were very well prepared,
What all were prepared for was gone,
And we had to just make the best of it,
And had to try and soldier on.

They may well have died content,
They formed us against the pack,
But they would probably have a shock,
If they chose now to come back,
And the worst of their excesses,
Has turned full circle on their protégées,
What teacher now has any discipline,
In what he can do, or what she says,
They can be derided and attacked,
By an uneducated herd of fools,
Because the old ones left him naked,
Their excesses cost him all his tools.

So now he stands alone in abject fear
In front of feral and fierce eyes
He shakes a little deep inside
And perhaps at night he cries
What have I done to deserve this
What is this cruel twist of fate
The biter is now well bitten
By a true mirror of a snake
For we knew only too well
What it was to stand in dread
To wonder where the help is
For the pain within our heads
To quiver in cold uncertainty
Wondering whence the blow not when
And assured in the knowledge
It will surely happen over again
Until we leave the place for good
And only ghosts have trepidation
What a mess weve made both ways
Of educating a whole nation
First the whip and the ruler
Now the white flag in despair
Is there much hope for the future
In either way portrayed there
Somewhere in between these two
There must be common ground
Where respect should be the byword
And learning should abound
Teachers should be actually human
Yet revered for what they teach
Maybe a few years apprenticed industry
Before they practice what they preach
To gain a better insight
Into what is lurking there outside
Before forcing others outwards
Whose only armour is school pride
But that is utopia at its best
Only in our wildest dreams
For those above have other plans and
Other politically motivated schemes.


For we live in a world of extremes,
Instead of taking the middle road,
Always being soft or draconian,
Dependant what prior seeds were sowed,
No one ever thinks to mediate,
No common sense ever puts right,
No one seeks to heal the wounds,
Left from a previous fight,
No one seems to learn anything,
Nothing seems to evolve,
we just recreate the same dilemma,
And nothing is ever solved.

Somewhere between beatings
And allowing anything goes
There is a sensible compromise,
That mitigates all of our woes,
If we could pause for a tiny moment,
And think just once what will derive,
We might temper all our actions,
And allow reason to come alive.

If education were devolved from politics
And allowed the finance to truly grow
There is no limit to our learning
To the thoughts that we could sow
No matter what our background
We all deserve our chance at the best
To finally stand on our own two feet
And face up to any kind of test
We all deserve good teachers
And no sub standard fare
Theres no point in certificates
If you cant read whats on there
We all need to be taught
And we all need to learn
We all need to read and write
Not watch all the best books burn
To truly make our way in life
And not be seen as shirkers
To avoid being paper shufflers
And have the pride of real workers.
Imitation qualifications may
Look good for those running education
Statistics might show universities
Are building this genius nation
What use to our kids if in reality
They have trouble spelling their name
When their lessons are so diluted
And their discipline so tame
Its the same world outside afterwards
The same problems in being alive
The same pressurized industries
The same stresses to survive
But wheras we had our education
and drive to make our mark
We are failing our present generations,
And leaving them out in the dark.





Direct Emails mr-bong@blueyonder.co.uk



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