Wednesday, 24 May 2017

Terror by Grant Harbison

Terror thrives
Innocent lives
We want to kill
But the grace we were given is one of free will
Two wrongs have never made a right
History has proved that again and again
Evil is constantly tumbled
Every single empire has eventually crumbled
It may feel now that they have the world at their knees
But evil is just another disease
Religious fanaticism they is say is to blame
Have you forgotten the Irish?
They played the same fucking game
The problem with religion when it’s organised
Is more and more are compromised
Tunnel vision
“The opium of the masses,” said Karl Marx in his crusade against the classes. 

Tuesday, 9 May 2017

Humble pie by Grant Harbison

She smiled when I walked through the door
A quaint little place I’d visited many times before
“Good evening, sir,” she said. “The usual table?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Thank you, Mabel.”
With that fixed derisory smile
She said, “I haven’t seen you in quite a while.”
I hung my head in shame
And said, “It’s not always easy to take the blame.”
“Yes, that’s quite true,” she told me. “But as long as you realise that the fault lies with you.”
She led me to a table that was totally bare
Situated in the corner with a rickety chair
Devoid of cutlery and bill of fare
And with an inevitable sigh
I ordered a large slice of humble pie

Saturday, 6 May 2017

I walk alone by Grant Harbison

I walk alone
Desolate roads so bleak
Resolve diminished
Outlook firmly bleak
He who commands
Don’t think that He understands
Don’t think that He hears
Surely He must recognise anxieties and fears
But still
Those who thrive get the bitterest pill
And those who walk alone
Remain here still

Wednesday, 3 May 2017

White Slavery by Grant Harbison

So I stole a bit of bread
And the authorities were sayin’…”Hang him till he’s dead!”
It was just a piece and I didn’t need more
I even gave the crust to a needy whore
But mercy was absent on English shore
Their words filled me with dread
I was still a young man and didn’t want to be dead
My punishment was the whip
And then ripped from my family and put on a ship
God, Almighty. No more would I see them or go back to Blighty
Well, that was their way
Us lowers classes didn’t have a say
No say in it
The attitude of the upper class was really quite shit
We arrived
Not many survived
I was angry but I knew that I had to behave
 “You are now in Australia,” they told us when we arrived. “And you’ll be here until your grave!”
It might have had warm and sunny weather
But conditions drove us all to the end of our tether
And just men
Ship loads of them coming again and again
I needed to see a woman
This bloody punishment was completely Inhuman
And then I saw her at the end of the strand
The way that she was gesturing suggested command
Making sure no one was watching me
I wandered up the beach to see
We struggled a bit with communication
But the act of love needs no interpretation
I saw her every now and then
But I never breathed a word to the other men
Because in a land where there’s no escape
Even the good man might consider rape