To perpetually please the vanity of a has-been
They’ve invented the ministry of leftover ideas
With leftover civil servants
Writing leftover policies
Based on leftover ideas
Ideals from the past
Become today’s secondhand *******
Presented as pillars
Of a bright and better future
When what we really get
Is the obsolete creating the obnoxious
A shady cabinet
With the allure of a shadow cabinet
With invisible MP’s
Serving an irritating Prime Minister
A tax-avoiding ****
Who enthusiastically supports
The ideas of last century
Bombarding every ministry
Into the ministry of leftover ideas

All poetry, all the time
A 24/7 poetical heaven
Talking about simple things
Wrapped in complexity
And efficiently stripping the complex
Until even the simpletons understand

All sorts of shows
For all sorts of people
Celebrating all sorts of poems
Retrograding avant-garde
Mellow love and romance
Humour, wit and wariness
Rhyme and jive
And beatnik flick

Imagine radio poetry
All poetry, all the time
From the poet to the people
Linguistic loving listeners
Who attentively admire
The soft-spoken words of poets
Cordially confused
Trying to understand
Where all of a sudden
Those most welcome
Listeners came from

I go about things the English way
With careful consideration
And euphoric euphemisms
Ever so polite on the outside
While internal I’m feeling infernal
And the only reason why I can
Is because I’m a ****** English gentleman

A poet is sitting by the riverside
I can see him staring at me
A gaze full of pity and disdain
As if I am the one to blame

Once there was the promise of harmony and creativity
Now I am trapped in his lack of singularity

And there’s only one poet to blame
One man who deserves the centerpiece
In this game of shame
For I am just a battologist’s shade

I am unable to avoid
The faults in his eyes
The tedious and battering curse
Of wasting precious potential

So I see the man whose reflection I am
And the way his eyes are fixed on me
And I see the proudness
Being devoured by the sadness
And I’m glad that I’m just a reflection

A poet is sitting by the riverside
As he stares blankly into the water
He sees a copycat staring back at him
A poor man’s poet of the people

Once there was the promise of bravura and muster
Now his company is mind-numbing and lackluster

And there’s only one poet to blame
One man who deserves the centerpiece
In this game of shame
For a battologist he has always been

He never cared to forbear
The tedious yet sumptuous curse
Of repeating and echoing
And echoing and repeating

So the poet sits by the riverside
His glazy eyes fixed on a man in the water
Who would like to be a swan
But is doomed to be a vulture
The disciple of an inferior culture

Golden sun on golden hair
The kind of girl you can follow
By the trail of broken hearts
And promises of passion
Fashionable fury
Magnificent monster
Devouring life
Devoted to lust
Desiring love

In my head I saw the cohort
Of lovers, past, present and future
Walking meekly by
Cherishing the whole lot
From first eye contact
To first touch
And even the crush
The smack on the head
That useless feeling of feeling useless

It’s hard not to make the same mistake
Even in a place so mundane
As you set a place like this
Ferociously on fire
Burning and battering
Heat and heart
Mesmerizing mess
Deviously destructing

The girl at the bus station
Promising a journey you’ll regret
And a morning after to forget
Sentimental slur
Like only a fool could feel
Heading in heart first
Ending up endangered
Feelings rearranged
Promises kept

The girl at the bus station
You know she’ll break your heart
And still you get aboard
Because life’s too short
Not to give in to sin
Sensual sacrificing
Dare to wear your heart
On a sleeve
Only to have it thrown away

So she transformed
From the girl at the bus station
Into the girl from that one memory
Of that horrible movie
And that passionate play
Hoping that it all
Proves to be a prequel
Of the story of a lifetime
About a girl at the bus station
And a fool who came to stay

She was utterly convinced
That I was a vindictive fiend
Then came the cheating spree
Which kind of made me agree