ENVIRONMENTALIST

.
I am an environmentalist:
Like a prophet of old
I tell you how wicked you are,
And what you must do,
And what you must not.

I make sure you are told
Not to go far,
Nor to use your car,
While to travel by plane
Is obscene.

For because of your sins
There will come great winds,
Which will destroy you.

I like controlling people's lives;
I love to make you feel afraid,
Unless my edicts are obeyed.

I want you to admit your guilt,
And grieve and wilt,
Bowed down by the lies I tell you.

For it's all a hoax,
And the biggest joke's
On you.

I feed my computer
With all kinds of data,
And sooner or later
I get the result I want.

Then I threaten the masses
With greenhouse gases,
And fill their lives with fear;
And its taught in schools
By deluded fools,
Believing what they hear.

I make the little children cry:
They think that they will surely die
Before they are much older.
They think the joy and glee they know
Will perish in incandescent glow;
That's what I tell them.

Around the globe my lies have whirled:
The flag of nonsense is unfurled;
At your expense I travel the world,
And ruthlessly distort the truth.

For there are many places
Where the weather's colder;
But I don't tell you that:
It interferes with my plan;
I'm having fun while I can.

I love to go to conferences
In romantic places,
And mouth my fraudulent dirge:
I'm pretending to save the planet
By travel and talk,
By eating fat pork,
And drinking.

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DARWIN'S GHOST

.
Sadly I wander about the Earth,
Drifting over the buried dead,
The myriads of innocents who suffered and bled,
Their beautiful bodies smashed to pieces
Because of what I said.

I taught that the law of life
Decrees incessant bloody strife,
That everybody is a rival,
And only winning ensures survival.

O God, what have I done?
For Hitler, Stalin and Mao
And all the other blood-drenched tyrants,
Who followed me or my disciple Marx,
Have enmeshed whole nations in brutality,
And filled mankind with dread.

O God, I am so sorry!
I was driven by ambition:
I wanted fame,
To perpetuate my name.

I knew that what I wrote was wrong,
And so I sank into the dark depression
That made me ill
And blighted all my later years,

Brooding on the huge lie I had spread
Throughout the world,
Knowing the havoc it would cause,
Knowing it would drive men mad,
And even You would be denied.

Please God, forgive me!
Let me rest.


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BADGERS

.
When each day is almost past,
And its light is fading fast,
That's when badgers start to play,
When night is overtaking day.

They scranble gaily round the trees,
And sniff the gently blowing breeze,
And run about the grassy ground,
And prick their ears at each new sound.

But later on, when gleaming stars
Are twinkling high above their heads,
They think about their cosy beds,
Deep beneath the soft cool earth.

For when the day has nearly come,
And dawn is glowing in the sky,
The little badgers swiftly run
To their caverns warm and dry,
To sleep and sleep until the night,
Safe and sound and out of sight.

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SHEARWATER

.
They creep along the ancient shore,
With sticks and nets
And other implements of death:
While you have breath
They will torment you,
Gentle bird.

To them you are a means to fame,
An easy way to make a name;
And if you die it's all the same
To them.

Unmoved by love,
There is no limit to what they do:
They kill and maim,
And seek acclaim
By torturing you.

Beyond the crashing surf
Dim swaying lines of foam
Are roaring from your ocean home
And calling you to come.

A myriad swiftly beating wings,
And suddenly the night bird sings;
The air is full of joyous cries
Of the gentle bird they so despise.

A holy place is this,
Amidst the thudding seas,
Where gentle birds have come in peace
For countless centuries.

But now as each bird comes to land,
Grim men grasp with brutal hand
The life they cannot understand,
The simple joy that was not planned
By them.

And later they will write in cold important words
Of the evil things they've done to birds;
And other cruel complacent men
Will praise them.

Darker grows the night,
And darker yet,
And still they murder beauty.

But I have seen them, gentle bird,
And I will not forget.


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Manx Shearwaters are seabirds which nest in colonies, and come to land only at night to lay their eggs and feed their young. They are the subject of experiments by "conservationists".

LOVER

.
I love your beautiful face
And gentle voice
And slim strong body,
Bursting with vitality;

Your magnificent body and radiant soul
Have made me whole,
And filled the emptiness
I have always felt till now.

Though my life has been one of striving,
I have been only half alive,
And lacked the will
To finish the tasks
For which my spirit was made flesh;

I did not know that only you
Could make my mind and body flower,
And flood me with the power
To fulfil my destiny;

For God sent me to you
And you to me,
To help each other,
And to strengthen us both,
To accomplish what we were born to do.


________________________________________

For D.B.

MOUNTAIN

.
One summer just as day was dawning,
I saw a majestic mountain morning:
The mist was thick in clinging shrouds;
Then it suddely lifted
To blood red sun and purple clouds.

At noon the sun was warm and bright;
It had climbed and coloured the massive height;
And the mountain gleamed as sudden showers
Lashed its pinnacles and towers.

In the evening the clouds grew thick again:
The dim peaks drowned in a sea of rain,
That washed the slopes and fed the rivers,
And in the gloom of approaching night
The mountain disappeared from sight.



____________________________________________

PRETEND MUSIC

.
Sometimes I hear noises
Coming from my radio,
A cacophonous row
Like a very sick cow
Or an injured crow,
Frantically cawing,
Just before it dies;

Or percussive crashes
Like car smashes,
Or screams like people out of their mind.

Then they say it is a masterpiece
By a modern composer,
Wonderfully inspired,
Or that it signifies
The triumph of the human spirit.

They desperately try
To hide that they lie
Or are catastrophically stupid.


______________________________

TELEVISION NEWS

.
Children, while we're having tea,
How many corpses shall we see?
As the cameras slowly pan,
Let's count the corpses while we can.

Perhaps we'll see them as they die,
And watch their children scream and cry:
How lucky we are!

We can watch a crowd of thugs,
Or homeless derelicts crazed with drugs;
And children, what a lot we learn
From seeing how well hospitals burn!
There's always something good to see.

And children, when you reach an age
When you may wish to earn a wage,
You'll have such sick and morbid views,
You too can work in television news!


______________________________________

BRING THE SHEEP IN, LUCY

.
I'm sitting up in bed
In a strange room,
With other men:
They're in bed too.
I don't know who they are;
I don't like them.

They're mumbling to themselves,
Talking rubblish.
I wish they'd go away.

Where has the room gone?
It's suddenly disappeared;
Where is it?

I'm standing in my farmyard,
With my wife,
The treasure of my life,
Lovely Lucy; She's so beautiful.
"Bring the sheep in, Lucy," I say.
She smiles and runs into the field:
Her golden hair is shining in the sun;
I love her.

Suddenly I'm in the room again:
A woman comes;
She's wearing white.
"I've brought you a cup of tea," she says.
"Are you Lucy?" I ask.

She pours me some tea:
"Lucy's coming to see you soon," she says:
"Your grandson's bringing her;
"It's a long way for one so old."

My eyes are growing dim with tears;
My mind is filling with unstoppable fears,
That terrify me.

I don't know who I am.



___________________________________________

GRUESOME GORDON

.
Gruesome Gordon
Looks like thunder,
While he tears the nation
Asunder.


___________________________

BABY

.
Little life upon my knee
Gazes wonderingly at me;
He does not know,
Cannot foresee,
Or even dream of what will be.

O Lord, protect him,
Guard my little boy;
Shine your light upon his soul,
And fill his baby mind with joy.

Love has made him;
Love sustains him;
Now at last I understand,
That only love has any meaning,
Only love will never end.

Little life upon my knee,
There's so much you will learn from me.
Yet you, without a single word,
Have taught me truths
I could not see.


_______________________________________

Dedicated to Clare, with lots of love from Inspector Walrus




_____________________________________

PRIME MINISTER

Do you sleep at night, Prime Minister?
Do you think of the girls and boys
You sent to die,
Who don't know why,
And neither do you?

Do you wonder at what you do,
As you cling to power,
And pretend you're the hero of the hour?
Do you believe the fine words you've spoken?

Why can't you feel the pain
Of the shattered bodies and limbs
Of those who'll never walk again?
Do you think of those whose minds you've broken
By the horrors to which you've sent them,
The blood, the screams, the ruined young lives?

And do you think of their mothers and fathers
And brothers and sisters and friends?
Do you think of any of them,
When you're sanctimoniously singing hymns,
And boasting?


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POLAR BEAR

.
Churchill is a town I love:
There's lots to eat there;
And naive people come to stare:
They've come to see us polar bears.

We amble down the snowy street,
And here and there are lumps of meat,
That have been thrown away;

And there are men and women
With telescopes,
Nervous and fearful yet full of hope,
Expecting to see starving bears;

For they've been told that food is scarce,
That melting ice won't let bears hunt,
And so we bears have borne the brunt
Of the delusion known as global warming,
Promoted by slick politicians:

So visitors ask the residents
Where they can find the evidence
Of melted floes,
Or photo thin and starving bears,
To prove the planet's on its knees,
Because it can no longer freeze.

But we just swagger down the street,
Replete and sated bears,
Where we've been coming for centuries
On our way to Hudson Bay;

And we laugh at the silly people
Who've come from afar,
When they grasp how they've been fooled
By lying politicians
And by notoriety-seeking money-grubbing
S0-called scientisits.

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Note: Churchill is a town in Northern Canada on polar bears' ancient annual migration routes, now visited by hordes of "environmentalists", seeking evidence for "climate catastrophe". Many "climate researchers" withhold and distort facts which contradict their false dogma that humans have made the planet hotter.