The Neo-Liberal Con

Insidious evil stalks the Market Place

Spreading so fast.

Its  deceptive embrace –

Seductive and vast.

From ‘Ivory Towers’ to ‘City Banks’

And ‘Corridors of Power’

To our Media’s corrupted face.

Alas for humanity, divided society,

Undermined solidarity –

Lost without trace.

Cry out for the thousands, collateral broken,

Give voice to the millions who never are heard.

There’s not much more time for truth to be spoken –

Let’s make commitment to spreading this word.

15th August 2015





Wee one !

Those big innocent eyes

Shame the powerful,  monnied intrigue –

Shame the xenophobic, vitriolic plethora of words.

You were such a gift –

Gracing the world.

Small wonder your ‘taking’

Stirs our indignation,

Our protective sense of justice

Outraged.  How can we

Accept this ‘spun-matrix’ world

That your sad, sad story has

Revealed to us ?

May 2007


When dark days were getting darker

You could only sing of pain,

Yet the ‘crowning’ of Obama

Lifts our spirits once again.

We are aware as he must be

Of the enemies of right –

Of so many lacking justice

And their all-but-hopeless plight.

He said we’d do it together –

That he’s not the only ‘One’.

Change ‘s gotta come all over

If the victory’s to be won.

28th January 2009

Such a Time…..

Is it true that everything will change now

That we’ve entered a different time ?

Or will these hopes be shattered in the morning –

And dreams of a new dawn, decline ?

How long can we breathe that heady mountain air

And sing our victory songs ?

Before we hear a chilling note of warning

Or learn the real cost to those who dare ?

Let us sing our songs of freedom

As we celebrate this day ……

Calling all to direct action

That will build a true new way.

21st January 2009

The Power of the Flowers

We’re of the sixties generation

Who thought the time was ripe

For a peoples’ revolution

Of a new and purer type.

Some tried for liberation

Who were ourselves oppressed –

Oft leading to frustration

But we would not leave our quest.

And some got lost in the theories

Of Marx and Mao and Che,

While others felt they had to go

The Angry bombers’ way.

When the seventies were over

And the hippies had been and gone,

Not many still remembered

Still less were heard to say,

That the early dream is unvanquished

For the Power of the Flowers is Love.

But nothing has been wasted

Since we sang to Lennon’s song.

We’ve learned so much and changed so much

But we still can sing the tune.

Now we need it more than ever

In the struggles of our world

As we move against injustice

And to let the earth survive.

We must sing the songs again

With a new hope in our hearts –

Raising the standards of Gandhi

And of Martin Luther King.

This time we will not be deflected

By the taunting from the Left,

For the ultimate Power is eternal

And ensures its wn success.

And we have that ultimate Power

For the Power of the Flowers is Love.

Yes, it’s time for the flowers again my love

And for the dreaming of wild new dreams;

For the singing of songs of hope, my love –

Re-birth of the brave freedom themes.

We will re-claim the power of repressed ideals

And the power of the people unbowed.

The power of lovers is hope and joy

And the Power of the Flowers is Love.

Brighton 1984   To Nabil


Between the world of knowledge

And the problems of the world,

Between the day of indifference

And the detachment of Enlightenment

is the shadowland.

From justification through Art

To a need for atonement for sin.

From the vision of despair

To the affirmation of life

Is not so far

As from inauthentic existence

To any alternative way.

Between the world of the beautiful people

And the ‘cult’ of clinical concern,

Between the powerless intents of pacifism

And the disillusion of diplomats,

Between grievance demanding revenge

And tolerance of fallibility

Is far enough

To keep us talking interminably

Of the alienation of man.

Between the words I vainly say

And their meaning to another,

Between my most significant gesture

And its interpretation,

Between the intensity of my cry of pain

And the futility of its impact

Lies the division of the world.

Resignation is not enough

And stoicism, an escape to another illusion.

To stretch across the brink

Has some meaning.

And death itself is vindicated

If it opens the way for others

To cross the divide.

October 23rd 1967   [ Just after arriving at Keele University]



A ‘Voice for the Voiceless’

On almost any street, at any time

Encircled by indifference,

Jostled on every side by indications

Of an altogether different way of life –

We walk enclosed in the Satanic Order of Fear.

Half grateful for a crowd that does not care, ?

Half longing for just one glance

Of understanding.

How long is a life time

When day follows day without meaning ?

And how much use is the pain

When half-seeing the way to liberty –

There still remains a barrier ?

The responsibility of breaking through is too great –

But the silence of non-communication is almost unbearable.

We cannot ask for what we want –

Partly because we do not know our need

And partly because we cannot bear any more disappointment.

And so, from behind our safe, sad enclosure

We send unspoken pleas for someone to break through the barrier

(But not too fast, and not too far).

O, if you come at all, it must be slowly, gently.

For more than anything we fear your domination.

You see, there is so little which we can control –

So do not take away the independence that we have .

And if you come – be patient –

We have never learned to trust

And we don’t know how to give.

But most of all we ask that you

Will not give  up. –

We are so afraid that we will give up ourselves –

But believe us, we don’t really want to.

We long to be like you and join with you

Freely in loving and giving and sharing and living.

We would never really say all this –

But if we could, we’d say so very much.

Help us to talk………just a little.

Although we’ll never admit it, we wish

That somehow we could let you know

That we do need you –

Deep in our unbelieving hearts, we pray

That you will not stop trying

And will not go away.


For Susan – Spring 1966



We have seen so much of sorrow,

We have shared in the despair

Of lives that touched ours briefly

When we didn’t really care.

Was there purpose in the chaos

Of the years we would forget ?

Did our wanderings allow us

A time to be lost to the world –

That the plight of its unfulfilled children

Might be deeply engraved on our hearts.

For the love that is needed to heal them

Comes only from suffering and pain.

O how can we dare to deny them,

Who may never be loved again ?

And if there is an answer

To their unspoken prayer,

We must live our lives among them

For Love would send us there.

Send us with joy and peace to say

Herein is hope  – this is the way.

July 21st 1965