Power.

Power
At the top
Looking down at the bottom
Tripping over the wires and strands
That makes a man
Overstand
Over another man’s plan
To be the man
The boss
The general
El jefe
Hungry for each little morsel
Like a meze
Says the young upstart who
Overthrows the leader
To shift the scales of power
Walking a tight rope
Gripping tightly the feet
To defeat the power brokers
Chop them down on the knees
So they bow at his feet
But power’s not gender specific
Everyone wants a piece of the action
To be specific
Your genes don’t determine the means
To gain the ends
Nor the way to gain more enemies
Amongst your circle of friends
Power corrupts
But a little too much?
Yes, absolutely
So before you knock me off my throne
Before the power hits my dome
Bullets will load in the barrel
For my underlings to shoot me.
Power.

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PFI.

You fund it,
We take it,
muck it up,
You fund it again,
We manage it,
We manage to mismanage and damage it,
You refund it,
Build the school up, shut it down, blow it up,
Make all pupils and staff redundant,
Incapacity benefit?
Yes,
As privately these sectors are incapable of responsibility,
Absent father to a child stuck in the projects,
Created by Governments,
Who think it’s money well spent,
On schools,
On roads,
On hospitals,
But they all fold,
Like a pack of cards,
But the house that always wins,
Is the one who does the least,
Who feast in the trough,
Served up by us,
Plus, we get to protect our investment,
Keep it off the books,
Play the role of the Samaritan,
In the knowledge that we’re crooks,
Creative with the numbers,
Make 2+2 equal 10,
And when the next tender comes along,
We repeat the same trick again,
And tie you down,
Houdini style,
Give it 20 to 30 years,
Untying those knots do take a while……

Coulda been…..

I could have been a writer,

I’m putting words on a page,

I could have been an actor,

My imagination’s my stage,

I could have been an angry man,

This next line is violence and rage,

Angry at the thoughts,

I couldn’t keep in a cage,

In the zoo of my mind,

I could have been kind,

And kind of tamed that emotion,

And chose to be more social,

I could have chosen to love,

As opposed to hate,

Instead I hate the fact,

I love you so much,

Just afraid to say it to your face,

Just in case it replaces,

My ego on the basis,

That I could have been a great debater,

As I deliberate and debate,

My point of view,

Difference of opinion,

Getting stuck between me and you,

I could have been an alcoholic,

As I scribe,

I prescribe,

This hard liquor,

to be my elixir to better dreams,

When I could have been,

a boxing astronaut,

Now I’m sparring with the stars,

After the cloud battles I fought,

Now I put down my gloves and helmet,

and pick up a pen,

and then I continue writing,

About a time,

that I could have been a poet,

Now read between the lines of my dreams,

Because this is my skill,

And I show it.

 

Up In Your Business…

Hello?
Hey, it’s me
that guy you see
In that BBC drama
On your flatscreen TV
For your viewing pleasure
Has got you hooked up on my line
Digging for my buried treasure
Unaccountable amounts
You can’t measure
So,
Where shall we go to liaise?
We can go for a pizza
Under the shade of the night
After conversation and fine wine
Let’s come back to mine
I’ll relax your mind
Show you a good time
Then I’ll drop you off
And we can do it all again
So once you got this message Becky,
Let me know what paper you read with breakfast
This is my private service announcement
And this news will break fast
And the word on the front page
Will outlast the fact
That I’ve been seen courting Skye
So tap me up
Hack me down
Take, erase, rewind,
As you unwind and unfold the events
On a 4 page spread
Of the dangerous actions of a man
On a 4 poster bed
That were part of the injunction
Making my fatherly role not function
and makes my wife a million times richer
Off the selfishness of my bodily functions
And makes the paper a million times richer
Off their rotten dealings in their operating functions
So hit me back Becky if you’re up for this luncheon
I send this voicemail by the dock
By the muddied waters from our dealings,
Signing off,
Murdoch.

Profile Status

Profile Status
Profile Status

Joined up, now hooked up to the network,
working through the joined up net lines,
to find mates with similar tastes as me,
like supporting Chelsea, partying hard and watching MTV Cribs,
I wonder where they live,
down the street round the block,
I’ll message them from my crib,
list of friends are growing,
better put out an update,
of how I stayed up and partied with celebs till late,
sounds better than sitting in a box room,
playing pro on a council estate,
now I’m looking for groups that like to eat three ice cream scoops,
or watch that programme with those wanna be pop groups that get scooped up or pooped up by the ice-cold judge,
better re-check my status,
cos my ego won’t budge,
gotta let everyone know that I’m a stone-cold rapper with a concrete flow that walks over tracks,
let me retract and relax cos my friend list is swelling up,
now that’s phat, bare heads like me,
the unlikely lad from the council estate,
trying to make his way up the social ladder,
cos I wanna be one of the lads,
hold up I gotta digital girlfriend now I’m virtually a dad,
so I can’t go to these 10 events,
so to prevent my girl from seeing my fantasy world that’s unswirling before my very eyes,
reality hitting hard, starting to feel like a surprise,
so now class, here’s what I conclude,
build your friendships through the Lord,
don’t let your ego or social networks rule you…

©Word Of Mouth
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