IT AINT COMING HOME

FOR ENGLAND,

so sorry guys,

that’s life,

ain’t it, guys

IT AINT COMING HOME

FOR ENGLAND,

we just ain’t

the chosen people, so

IT AINT COMING HOME

FOR ENGLAND,

It’s just a bloody game,

that’s life, suck it up,

IT AINT COMING HOME

FOR ENGLAND,

&

IT AIN’T COMING HOME

FOR PALESTINE,

So, a big thanks is due,

thanks ever so...

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Yesterday,

our troubles seemed

so far away,

an hour or two

was amiably passed,

our local hummed

and hawed with

talk of balls

and whistles

refs and bags of wind.

Mid thoughtful pauses,

loud guffaws,

we sat and sipped,

and watched

the world

go by,

through open doors,

a blustery breeze

gave som...

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Re-post of 2025 version with slight edits.

And did Old England once, play by the rules,

That nation of shopkeepers, honest folk,

Who shunned smooth-talking charlatans and fools?

Once, solidarity broke tyrants’ yolk,

When Yeomens’ sabres slashed at Peterloo,

When Murder wore the Mask of Anarchy,

When on Cable Street, at th...

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Amanda flies the wide skies

From Canada to England and back again

And unborn cries of bloodline ties

Comes calling her back home

Embroidered blankets, silk and knitted

Toys of softest fur

She casts a glance with loving eyes

And takes them with her when she goes

Amanda leaves a hanging pendant

Silver native maple leaf

A gift for friends of decades gone

That Eng...

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And will those Boots in this dark time,

Trample on England’s human rights:

And will The Many be downtrodden,

Or will they Tyranny put to flight?

Now must The People show a spine,

And not submit to a thousand ills!

Let a Thousand Souls fill Parliament Square,

Defiantly facing Tyranny’s chills!

Bring with you Courage burning bold:

Bring thirst for Justice, your d...

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Those plastic patriots in town,

Put the Cross of Saint George upside down:

Top from bottom’s a puzzle,

Those clowns’ brains are frazzled,

Tommy Ten Names, their king, wears the crown.

Le Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh,

Dé Luain, an chéad lá de mhí Mheán Fómhair,

dhá mhíle agus cúig is fiche (1st September 2025)

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And did Old England once, play by the rules,

That nation of shopkeepers, honest folk,

Who shunned smooth-talking charlatans and fools?

Once, solidarity broke the tyrants’ yolk,

When Yeomens’ sabres slashed at Peterloo,

When Murder wore the Mask of Anarchy,

When on Cable Street, at the Workers’ Waterloo,

The Blackshirts’ arrogance met with Unity.

Th...

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Oh, to be a Lioness,

Examples to each English lass,

At last, that Victory is theirs,

True pride, they’ve brought to England

Away with mediocrity,

Our guiding, shining stars,

With courage in adversity,

Have seized the day and won the game,

No.18 shirt, C. Kelly for P.M💖

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HOMECOMING

____________

Back from the combatzones

Of the rest of Europe

And patriotic ticker-tape parades,

England's sons

Had no homes

To come back to

In the mid-1940s.

Military camps

Luxury flats

City hotels

Were abandoned.

Fears of air raids

By Nazi planes

Dropping bombs 

Power outages

Cities blown to the bare bricks

Sent every...

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My mother had a habit, when times were bad, for example when dad had lost his job, of uttering the phrase: “God is good!”, an expression of her Christian faith and hope. The expression: “Thank God for that!”, is an everyday one of gratitude, as of course is “goodbye”, derived from “God be with you”; a similarly used Arabic phrase forms the title of my sonnet.

My republican instincts lead me to ...

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…and did those boots in World War time,

Stamp around England’s pleasant land:

And were those Blackshirt fascist sods,

From Cable Street off-seen!

Never did we countenance a time,

When journalists would see th’ Old Bill!

At dawn, a-knocking on their doors,

For telling truth, with fear instilled!

We must not cease Evil to Fight,,

Nor must my pen sleep in my hand...

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Solar flares in tempest spent, Earth's veil angrily torn,
Charged plasma dances, skyward flight, in fury born.
Emerald and crimson,  a painter's dream, strokes the night,
Aurora's dance, magnetic wraiths, violet light
Transient beauty, fleeting flare for eyes to adore,
In silence held, earth meets sun's magnetic core.

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Six Nations wake from slumber

As winter turns to Spring

For tribal warfare on the pitch

It’s a Celts and Saxons thing

They’ll be singing hymns and arias

From the Tiber to the Tay

And the week feels that much longer

As we wait for Saturday

And the squads are called together

From places far and wide

There will be sunshine and foul weather

There will be shir...

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On the Grand Canal in Venice

where bridges span and sigh

There’s a rising sense of menace

Here comes the W.I.

They’re oblivious to the sandbags

Stacked against an inundation

As they wield their leather handbags

And march in tight formation

At the head of them is Norah

The bravest and the best 

The other girls adore her

In their phalanx, ten abreast

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The European champions 

Hold the world in their hands

Bring it home

Bring it home

Comes the chant from the stands

The breath of England 

Heaves shallow in wait

But, these Lionesses 

Are the key to our fate 

They have passion & strength

And a will to achieve 

Each heart & each soul 

Worn firmly on sleeve

For 57 years 

We've huffed & we've puf...

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SAMARITAN

__________

Anyone else

Would've left that Far Right

Reactionary sprawled on the concrete

To bleed out, suffer in his

Paroxysms of serious hurt, receive

Disaster of the steel-toed kind.

But not you.

The Good Samaritan

Reflex kicked in,

Wouldn't let you

Abandon someone in need of help.

Distinctions such as

"Friend" and "foe" did...

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All the fuckin’ country 

is tense about some dead duck football game

tonight at 8 pm (or so I’m told).

The sea it slinked away but turned again

and stealthily manoeuvres to reclaim 

the mudflats populated by the clumsy

clumps of seals. They loiter, lolled 

like slack balloons, like lard

collapsing down to chip fat on the hob.

But we, we sit up straight: our sofa, st...

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The Pride

Huzzah!

This old and gummy English lion

Feeding on the tears of little girls.

Finding its bravery in packs

Of like-minded scavengers

Who prowl and growl

And claim a foul

For every perceived slight

In history.

Huzzah! Hurrah!

We won a contest

Prejudiced by racist taunts

And sieg-Heil accusations

By the Nazis

Towards the reconciled.

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SERAPH WINGS

____________

She--English student-to-be

He--Art student

Accessorised well in cool black

Clothes as two roving assassins would

But they weren't assassins

They were just young, creative, self-expressive

Goths in love, bonded souls

With a beautiful future ahead of them

They both enjoyed the quietude before midnight

In a walk through Stubbylee Park--

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I was made in England

And charged with English blood

In England born and bred

I’ve got England in my head

I’ve walked on English lanes

And breathed in English air

It’s English ground I tread

And I’ll be English until I’m dead

I’m English through and through

And England lives in me

And its English blood that’s in my veins

And an Englishman I...

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The Celtic Spring begins today, so Happy Imbolc.

__________________

Green Man

on a ceramic head

by Paula Zimmermann

I know that you must be there,

innocent divine,

although at first I cannot see;

your martyrdom, daily,

amidst brick, steel, and glass

goes almost un-noticed

and has made us blind.

We have all but buried you.

But then I find ...

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This music,

it makes me want to fall from the water

float in the sky,

stare at those lips

and kiss those green eyes,

drink from the clouds

and jump on the pond

to feel the stars

and gaze at the stones,

the rythms , the notes

melt my mind

ignite my visible voice

I'm not here nor there

maybe inside a void

floating on the blues

maybe its a d...

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Penetrating through soft light clouds: airspace; blended for all who dare to impress.
Assiduous Amy Johnson did just that: a derring-do role model: a legacy;
relative in the minds of many that still lives on.
Renowned for her solo flight: London to Australia in 1930.
Transcended the hitherto, male domination, seizing world-recognition.
Flying away from ground possessions, flying amongst the s...

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Layered Cake

I’ve known many unsavory characters from my home city of Manchester

There’s the ex-demolition guy who took a great dislike to me

Did he have visions of blowing me up instead of my old car?

He had a trainee apprentice in the wings and had connections

I knew several football hooligans who fought for what?

For England, their home team, themselves, for violence?

...

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What with all the omnishambles of Brexit, I got to thinking about what our national identity really is.  When you think about it, we have some pretty bizarre national symbols, but ultimately what does it mean to be British / English, etc?  See what you think of this...

Rule Britannia?

Our national dish is curry, true,

Our Saint is George who dragons slew,

From Yorkshire field...

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Take down the flags
Wind in the bunting
It's not our time
We know it's not coming
Or shop fronts and homes
Will soon seem empty
But the sea of St George
Will be a glorious memory
Hold your head high
As echoes of cheers ring loud
Faith restored;
You've done us all proud
This time was different
You wrote your own story
A summer of hope
A dalliance with glory
You've brought us passion
...

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WORLD CUP 1966 personal recollections

Blue dressed bridesmaid

Bolt down the food, get through the speeches.

Drink up the wine – what’s the time?

Time to put down the serviettes.

Time to …………

Tension is building - Tighter, harder, bolder

The groom, the best man and every one of the ushers are at the starting gate.

More interested in the future than the present.

...

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Lets open up the country file

Lets find a place to go

Get up close to nature

Weather sun or rain or snow

Valley, lake or mountain

There is beauty all around

Yorkshire dale or Lake District

The jewels in Britain’s crown.

Lets get up close to nature

Lets go and explore

On foot or bike or horse back

In land or by the shore

England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales

There...

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Lads

In three months’ time it will happen

The World Cup battleground

Taking place in Putin’s Neo Soviet Russia

England’s finest hooligans will meet

The paramilitary trained enemy Ultras

Who are pumped up steroid pimps

Wearing Sports Direct trashy gear

They claim there’ll be many dead Brits

My bet is on a few dead Russkis too

Bring it all on for this is the natural ord...

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Saudade is one of those inexpressible words, Portuguese in this case. The clearest meaning or definition I can come up with is  'melancholic nostalgia' or the like. This is my attempt to take that thought one step further.

The poem is best read by first reading the non-italicised stanzas, followed by the italicised ones.

Saudade

Proteus, Old Man of the Sea,

Neptune's shepherd...

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The Unicorn to the Lion
By Robert C. Mackie

The Lion and the Unicorn once fighting for the Crown,
Now, Lion, said the Unicorn, this fighting’s got me down.

Please keep your Barnett Formula, and all One Nation Tories,
Keep antisocial myopia and national fairy stories.

‘Cos Scotland’s a nation, although you doubt, social justice is its charter,
Smith and Hume its philosophers, no need f...

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Do you remember my England?

When people said "How do you do?"

And most of them were folk you knew,

And everybody joined a queue...

I do.

Do you remember my England?

When people seemed to care and share

And it was just not done to stare,

And barbers used to cut your hair...

I do.

Do you remember my England?

When "addict" meant a pinball fan

And workmen ...

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Fake nostalgia spews out from your head

For a sepia England that was never there

Hatred junkie, you know

Where the blood river flows

Feel the bile at your knees

Marching bands drown out your higher brain

Blaring voices drive your soul insane

Hatred junkie, you feel

Like a cog on a wheel

Grinding so out of time – after time

God made you useless

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“Got 10p for a cup of tea?”

“If you show us where you can get one for that price,

I'll give you a quid”

He never did...

Irregular Apocalypse.

Lonely and irksome.

The bitter glow of jaundice

tears at society's rustic chains,

one tragedy at a time.

“The Freemasons took my children,

they took my baby.”

Now she's hopping magic buses,

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What do you do with a drunk in GAY bar,
What do you do with a drunk in GAY bar,
What do you do with a drunk in GAY bar,
Early in the morning!

Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Early in the morning!

Tell 'im, “sorry, it's members only”,
Tell 'im, “sorry, it's members only”,

Tell 'im, “sorry, it's members only”,
Early i...

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On Tumbledown, no doubting of our love,

No bishopric’s accusing finger points,

Proclaiming: ‘Gays can’t die for God above,

Or marry Harry, Jessica or George’!

No holy men in dresses and big hats,

Will stem this bloody flow, or hold my hand,

Or sing my soul aloft; no music wafts

Along the breeze from England’s pleasant land.

Are you still there, Jim? God, it’s blo...

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ENGLISH LANDSCAPES

Here in our English country there is a broad range of scenery,

Form the ancient greenery of an oak wood to the gently flowing

rivers of the lowlands, this is a country of many moods and colours.

There are hills and marshes, mountains and lakes all with wild life galore.

Everyone is pleased to see such graceful scenes if out walking or quietly s...

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Do you remember my England?

When people said "How do you do?"

And most of them were folk you knew,

And everybody joined a queue...

I do.

Do you remember my England?

When neighbours seemed to care and share,

And it was just not done to stare,

And "barbers" used to cut your hair...

I do.

Do you remember my England?

When "addict" meant a pin-...

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