POSH

Have you ever used a bidet

For washing feet or bits?

Or played a round of croquet

Had high tea at the Ritz?

Are you good with 12 bore shotguns

When on a peasant shoot?

Is your name too double barrelled

Are your family full of loot?

Have you eaten oysters, caviar

Or used a butter knife?

Do you know what canapes are

Are Defenders on your drive?

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A lot of debate recently about the appropriateness of "Rule Britannia" and "Land of Hope and Glory" as songs for the modern age. The middle verse of "God Save the Queen" is equally controversial, but it strikes me that although I sang the song hundreds of times when I was young and had little choice in the matter, I have never sung the offending verse because it was always tactfully dropped. I don...

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Can it possibly be true

How the twelve months flew

Really twenty-four have passed

In terror of being outcast

Since that dire vote to leave

The parties it seems must all deceive

Mindless of the real cost

All thoughts of governance long lost

So the lady May survive

Gainst all that ministers contrive

Regardless of the pundits' sense

Ever blind to the expense

Ever d...

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Anarchy runs through my bones, A sanctuary, a mind set in stone, No worth in a life without purpose, Enough people around me trying to surplus, Without reason or must. Society isn't run from home, We're fed a diet of lies and bad omens, A curfew on our personal time, Cursing those who brave past the line, Fucking with your mind. Sobriety is harshly overrated, When the priority is to...

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A silence fell upon the city,

contorted shadows twisting moonlight.

Stuttering in a speakeasy seemed so misplaced

bottles rattled flickering like Fedora feathers

in an unforgiving wind.

The wretched odour of deprivation

a stench that sticks and degrades ones existence.

Even by day this city remains a lifeless sap

and by night the vampires feast on th...

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First time he'd ever been,

First time he'd ever seen

imaginations running wild brother,

see it to believe it.

As British as fish and chips

on a sunny London afternoon.

3 way dance or triple threat,

call it what you like but never forget

the joy,

the elation

the anticipation.

As Ligero drives the crowd wild,

the show stealer got robbed

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For him the song took a whole new meaning,

a control that made him wish to control others.

“Something's gotten hold of my heart”

an evil, a darkness

he mused on midnight

and the encroaching demonic hours.

3am and a stereo's blazing in a stolen Volkswagen Beetle

inaudible white noise, a prerequisite

for the red mist to follow.

“He see...

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