Power

Power

A question made of power,
an answer drawn from lies;
to eighty seats, the victor,
logistics, sense defies

Numbers that don't factor,
with the hands that were on show;
proportions lost in rapture,
representatives live low

whilst dwelling in high places,
low men...women, reap seeds sewn;
a harvest shared at tables high,
no blood left in this stone

Nothing left to trickle down,
but triptyched, hollow words;
a snake afraid of cobras, crowds,
a cryptic nest, absurd

Absurd in it's transparency,
lies endless, coiled round;
rattled by the sins we see,
in plain sight, where they're found

Found in fridges, hiding out,
avoiding questionnaires;
how can you be found in doubt,
when answers just aren't there?

'midst pieces taken off the board,
prorogued to make a path;
found guilty in a twisted joke,
just played along for laughs

with punchlines absent, lost in noise,
white static from the screens;
black ink set, white paper poised,
with print to set the scene

A scene where all the white hats win,
'midst Churchill spirit high;
drowning in a pit of sin,
a venom pool of lies

Where friends and family win the day,
despite no skills on show;
contracts granted, morals stray,
where it ends, who knows?

with ten years of austerity,
in mirrors, rear view;
erased for their posterity
removed to aid the few

as vital gears take their turns,
one percent at a time;
'gainst higher rates, unrightly earnt
... no reason in that rhyme

No rythym to the lines we're sold,
division's where it's set;
when viral thoughts embraced, take hold,
with unions not met

Coalitions, poorly formed,
to hold a ship afloat;
mercenaries paid and bought,
with chaos, all she wrote

Reports made independently,
discarded with the rest;
investigations put on hold,
with truths lost in such jest

Behind such smiles painted through,
like slogans on a bus;
"We're all in this together"... true,
"You're just not one of us"

For now you're locked down in your pens,
with road maps loose, in sight;
"We've come so far, we don't intend,
to be voted out tonight"

So just look at our best bits now,
posh passports, coloured blue;
forget they're made in Poland,
let the sovereignty ensue

Let fish rot in the harbour,
let the paperwork acrue;
as rich donors, get their karma,
thirty silver pieces due

'midst muted voices, saying soothes,
a singing swansong, scries;
economic with their truths,
deceitful in their lies

Complicit in the swing they hold,
transparent as they are;
when power twists, corrupts and folds,
to origami bars

Bills designed to hold, contain,
notes printed to control;
minted coins to shroud such eyes,
when spun and run in polls

Power as a question made,
as answers shift and list;
when you cut out people's tongues
... you leave them with their fists