Poem to Putin

If my tears could make a laurel wreath of peace
For you to wear upon your troubled head
Giving victory to peace instead of war
If my breath could make a gale of love
Blowing doves of peace inside Kremlin’s walls
Defying hate and Lenin’s disgusted grimace
Ending forever your fear of love
If my eyes would let you see the truth 
Freeing Russians from your mendacious misrule
Where you portray genocide as God’s cause
Where in Ukraine you wage your holy war
While at your devil’s table you gorge 
On rape, murder and pillage and smile at the feast
And what will history make of you?
Will your Stalinist madness be excused 
By a malignant melanoma of hate in your head?

No, you shall not escape, even in defeat
You will always be known as evil beyond belief
Not in Hitler’s camps but in a land once at peace 
Now reduced to ruin for your fantasy’s sake
Your war is lost all you’ve won is contempt.

The Thrush

I approach and stare
Thinking the thrush is dead
It has hit a windowpane
As I go to pick it up
To dispose of it
A cruel word dispose
Its tiny heart still throbs
Minute breaths
Quivering in its chest
Flies tentatively gather
Happy for a new bequest
The thrush so beautiful
Such fragility wasted
Its song forever ceased
I cannot touch
Its dappled plumpness
Full of promise
Now full of sadness
Unable to disturb its last breath
I’m writing this
Waiting for its death
Continue reading



The Bumblebee
From the Squash blossom flies
Tired, pollen bathed and heavy eye lids dusty
150 million years of pollinating decried
Unknowing of dawning Ecocide


The Swift
Old enough to have seen T Rex in the flesh
Flies two million kilometres in its shift
No longer under my eaves reside
Unknowing of dawning Ecocide


The Koala
Iconic marsupial cuddly up a tree
Feeds on eucalyptus a priori
So dies trees expiring from Carbon Dioxide
Unknowing of dawning Ecocide


The Polar Bear
Can swim sixty miles without a break
Once smelling prey ten miles near
There is no smell the ice long fried
Unknowing of dawning Ecocide


Staghorn Coral
Architect of the subterranean deep
Bleached in warmer water, no food, not normal
Lodgers, clownfish. hornbill turtles, no longer abide
Unknowing of dawning Ecocide


Atlantic Cod
Cheap fish for every chippy battered feast
Over fished because of livelihood
An uncaring species’ genocide
Unknowing of dawning Ecocide


The Monarch Butterfly
Beautiful orange migrate 3 thousand miles
Their caterpillars left with milk wood dry
To die from herbicides and insecticide
Unknowing of dawning Ecocide


The Emperor Penguin
A happy Charlie Chaplin substitute
Happy feet say amen
On the long walk to its own regicide
Unknowing of dawning Ecocide


The Beluga Whale
Well meaning boated tourists
Motorised watching expeditions the Holy Grail
Destroying life, idly set aside
Unknowing of dawning Ecocide


The Leatherback Turtle
Lays eggs on disappearing beaches
Ever more hatching females infertile
Their hoped for progeny denide
Unknowing of dawning Ecocide


The Flamingo
Mann’s pretty pink flamingo not a pretty tune
A lost overture that made shrimps agogo
A colour on the palette atrophied
Unknowing of dawning Ecocide


The Climate Change Denier
Celebrating fossil fuel profits
Spitting on what others call Guya
Flouting science with such pride
Not giving a toss about Ecocide





No accident
An unexpected horror on the
A63, A48, A43
Nothing to do with me
Tory spinning
Death toll rising
No accident
Lack of cash
Lies as sanity
Look how much we’re spending
Lies in suits masquerading
It’s a set up
Making ready
For the plunder
Private health
By stealth
NHS ripped asunder
The sick ground under
No accident
The people made to doubt
Certain they’re at risk
Tabloids scare
Red tops blare
Can’t trust doctors anymore
Scarce resources evermore
Not their fault of course
They’re not up to it no more
Lay the blame at demand’s door
No accident
Tory lore
Create stress
Foster disrespect
Prevent success
Horror stories
Lack of cash
Solution found
Tory lore
No accident
Say no more

At night twenty-four hour A&E shuts
No accident
A consequence of years of cuts
Staff shortages to blame
Always the same
Someone else to carry the can
The doors are barred
No place for the halt and lame
The sick debarred
A&E made empty in a land
Where the rich that gets the plenty
And the poor that gets the blame
No accident

In A&E
In the dark
Telephones ring
Nothing to see
No patients waiting queuing
Cold white metal chairs
Bolted together in sets of five and ten
Word-processed warning signs
Too many chairs with sticky tape affixed
Please don’t sit on me I’m broken
No use as poultices
To excuse the fact
The chairs are not alone in that
No accident

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
The chairs will be just the same
Signs still affixed
Please don’t sit on me I’m broken
Perfect for the halt and lame
No accident
No use for crocodile tears of sorrow
It doesn’t have to stay the same
Don’t play their game
Time to cut the Tory cancer out
Take back our NHS
And stop the pain

In the city
A man lives
On a temporary basis
What else?
How could it be otherwise?
In a wheelchair
On the street?
Yes on the street
Sleeping rough
In his NHS wheelchair
In the winter
He has a nice warm hat
Many clothes
He wears them all
Bearded angry
Viewed rough unkempt
What’s that bastard doing with a chair?
He’s sick back in A&E
No accident
Thursday night
Men having fun
Dump him from his chair
Rough him up
Have a laugh
Steal his chair
No accident
He’s back
An easy victim as before
A known welcome guest
Sitting in another NHS chair
Pleased he’s staying put
The warmth of NHS people cheer
Some cops arrive
Looking for someone missing
Are you looking for my chair?
Call 101 they laugh
A nod and a knowing wink
Can’t be right in the head
Serves him right
Asking for it
Rough justice
We’ve real crime to fight
No accident
On the street
Living in a wheelchair
Does anybody fucking care?
In A&E that’s what they do
Beyond the walls and broken seats?
Snip snip snipping
At the safety net
No accident

I’m a hair’s breadth
Aren’t we all?
From being there
Being the man in the wheelchair
Living rough on the street
In the comfort of an NHS chair

What a place we’ve made
My generation
Us fuckwits
We’ve let the market
Steal our share
Steal hearts and minds
Atrophy sympathy
Drown in neo liberal Eton mess
Eyes wide closed tight shut
Seeing broken seats
We stand up
Remembering at last
They are few and we are many
Knowing once again
How to face down fear
And together cure our NHS
Care a casualty no more
Give A&E
A clean bill of health

No more
No accident

© Phil Cosker 2018