The sufferings of the 96 and their kith and kin

 

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The South Yorkshire Police Force will now stand accused of Criminal Conspiracy.  This is not surprise to me.  They were rotten to the core and may they now be prosecuted for their many crimes.

Spirals of the Liars and the lies

“These perjurers so full of glee
All sneered there in the box
Their victims now would not seem free
And each fop fibs and mocks

These gutless monsters sup on blood
Schemed each new bag of lies
But ended mired in filth and mud
And never won the prize

Their victims then in time were free
And liars know cloying fear
When perjurers would lose all glee
As Truth lurks ever near

The winds of change are seeming strange
Old ways now sink below
Whilst Fate she seems to rearrange
As Truth brings falsehood low

Then Lies and Truth will clash head on
That one may cease to be
If Hope returns then few are wan
And some may be set free

Each artless, pointless scheming one
Finds no more glut of gore
As all is lost and none is won
New sneaks may come to fore

New perjurers will perjure then
New victims may go down
There seems a glut of wicked men
Each of such low renown”

© Trevor Morgan 2016

King Lemming

It is easy to rush into things thinking you are able to make a difference. But not everything always works out all that well.

King Lemming

I met this lemming on the road
He had no fear of heights
And purposeful away he strode
To go and see great sights

The higher up you go you see
The furthest sights of all
On high cliffs here above the sea
That lemming met his fall

Acceleration’s quite a thing
As t’wards the beach you fly
That lemming felt just like a king
Yes, he knew how to die

There is a red smear on a rock
King like, he’d passed that way,
Whilst foolish peasants stand and mock
His was a glorious day

There’s glory in a steady rise
There’s glory in it all
As lemming’s rain down from the skies
– So all the great must fall!

6 December 2002

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorties Away

Long time ago I was in the operations room of a carrier as she turned into the wind and launched a whole squadron of her aircraft.  As a radar operator I tracked them until they went below our radar horizon.  Strange something as mighty as a carrier has to turn into the wind to launch a strike.  This is predictable and ought to make them vulnerable, but they operate within a screen of escorts that are needed to protect them.

Sorties away

Carriers turned into the wind
In distant deep wide seas
And now because some fools had sinned
The world is out of ease

And sortie after sortie went
To deal a hammer blow
With a resolve that won’t relent
They’re sent to cause more woe

The carrion of the deep will feed
Upon much mortal flesh
And madness will not yet recede
We’re all caught in its mesh

Carriers turned back on their course
Their sorties are away
But actions done without remorse
May cause yet more dismay

Suicide Bombers’ Song

It is an English habit to laugh at a threat.  So I wrote these lyrics to Glenn Miller’s tune “Don’t sit under the apple tree”.

 

Suicide bombers’ song

I won’t strap on a cemtex pack
For anyone else but you
anyone else but you
anyone else but you
I won’t strap on a cemtex pack
for anyone else but you
So we can be together

So won’t you come and sit with us
Here on this crowded bus
on this crowded bus
on this crowded bus
So won’t you come and sit with us
Here on this crowded bus
And take a trip with us

I’ve switched my fuse so come with me
And we’ll disintegrate
we’ll disintegrate
we’ll disintegrate
I’ve switched my fuse so come with me
And we’ll disintegrate
into ten million bits

Yes we will fly across the sky
In small fragmented bits
small fragmented bits
small fragmented bits
Yes we will fly across the sky
In small fragmented bits
Now you’ve come close to me

Together we fly across the sky
At high velocity
high velocity
high velocity
Together we fly across the sky
At high velocity
And splash the passers by

How can you say that I’m no fun
When I go with a BANG
I go with a BANG
I go with a BANG
How can you say that I’m no fun
When I go with a BANG
And take you out with me.

BANG

 

 

 

Gentle Justice

I never did much like the death penalty. Our system of trials are such that the Innocent can be found guilty and the Guilty found innocent

 

Gentle Justice

Release the toxins in my vein
Or let me loose to sin again
It’s all the waiting that’s the strain

Is it unusual punishment
Where all this vengeance won’t relent
Then sent to Hell by States Hell sent

And so press gentle on my vein
And do be tender – give no pain
My Ghost may visit here again

You may not have the strongest will
To withstand ghosts who wish you ill
So let me go content and still

Then let the muscles of my heart
Beat Oh, so fast, they’re off the chart
Then fade and fail and not restart

Let oxygen not reach my brain
Eroding all the joy and pain
Then wait awhile with yet more strain

This punishment’s so cruel and queer
The last thing heard through fading ear
Are sneering guards who start to cheer

Injecting thought to be “… more kind”
Than noose or bullet from behind
Or sparks that smell of bacon rind

Toxins make a more tidy scene
For smells and fluids are obscene
So gentle justice is supreme

© Trevor Morgan 19.9.2003