One mans terrorist is another mans means to a 'triple cheese' burger or freedom fighting in a takeaway queue.


Protestors Last Revolution?

You see them scattered apparently at random placed.
Some blue, some green, some yellow tents but all similar.
Seemingly out of context where coffee is vodka laced
Freedom fighters dressed in 'hoodies' and boots familiar.
"Capitalism will be our funeral pyre", you hear them say.
Marks and Engles never understood how money matters
The hooded temporary resident's never ask, "who will pay"
To reinstate that red flag now cut to pieces, lying in tatters.

Ghosts of revolutionaries glide passing I'pods and 'Blackberries'.
Storming the barricades and democratic Keynesian towers,
No clamour, where is the cavalry riding o'er bonus and salaries Timed, nine till pub opening time, for protesters working hours.
The blood of martyres of the revolution ran red through gutters,
Shouts now fall as silently as North London shopwindow shutters




Poetry by Sid Gardner
Read 500 times
Written on 2011-10-25 at 23:01

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email
dott Print text


Stan Cooper The PoetBay support member heart!
Can you imagine what Tom Paine might have written if he had
access to Ipods and Blackberrys?

Very interesting write Sid

Thanks

Stan
2011-10-26