1334 - Time to move on?

Passed over for promotion, I’m thinking
About a voluntary move elsewhere
I want to stay here in the same building
A short walk from my flat - no transport fare
Is required, no parking cost incurred
I was as good as told my work is fine
But somehow that’s not good enough; how weird
Fed up of always being left behind
There is a time to move - is now that time?
The long Bank Holiday weekend’s coming
Which gives me the chance to think it over
But at the least I should give them a sign
They need to consider their managing
Their disloyalty seems to make mine fair

1333 - The third debate

The third and final debate concluded
And I have to say, I think Cameron
Did the best, Brown the next, and Clegg, well he did
Less well, no longer seeming as though one
Morally better. The idealism
Of ’97 is dead. How to pick
One or the other is the point. We can’t
Choose when there’s so little between. We’ll stick
With a hung Parliament. Could it be Nick
Clegg will wield the balance of power? Did
He do enough? No, not really. The fun
Continues. My postal vote’s gone. The slick
Performance of Dave may have now ended
Brown’s premiership. The soap opera goes on…
Thur 29 April

1332 - Un-cooperative in Rochdale

A day of disaster for Mr Brown
In Rochdale, meeting ‘ordinary folk’
He failed to charm a granny and, with sound
Still on, he raged in his car; shouldn’t’ve spoke
To that ‘bigoted woman.’ Well, the bloke
Has harmed his campaign. Now he seems destined
To come second, or even third. The yoke
Of electioneering! He says he sinned.
Fixed smile outside her house, the sinner grinned
Or grimaced: I’m not sure, but he is down
In the dumps, poll-wise, now; he has now choked
On those ill-chosen words. Can doctors spin
His way out of this? Can they spin right round?
Is he dead or alive? (Musical joke.)
Wed 28 April

1331 - Dawning realisation

Woken by a voice booming through the air
And my open window, before seven
Is it a building site? It’s hardly fair
To wake us workers up before having
Enough sleep to function… sleep to function…
So I lay listening to Radio 5
Nick Clegg came on at 9, pre-election
Issues crowding in on him on this live
Public phone-in. It’s so hard to survive
Voter disdain these days; is he prepared
For the corrupting maelstrom? Blair was one
Who seemed young, fresh and honest, and his wife
Seemed like fun, all teeth and dishevelled hair
Voters aren’t inclined to believe again

1330 - Fourteen lines from a pub poetry night

The sun has just set here on the Wirral
The sky is turning from light to dark blue
Here, over the water from Liverpool
I’m sitting writing this; won’t need to do
It when I get home late, cos I’ve got to
Get up for work on time. Today I just
Read two weeks of emails; well, I tried to
(That, and talking jury service…) I rushed
Through the first day back at work; I’d met most
Of them on Friday evening for a meal
A curry at Zouk’s: the cost 32
Pounds per head, what with wine; the girls were flushed
Before they staggered off to catch their rail
Or taxi rides, hangovers on the brew…
Mon 26 April

1329 - Poems galore, Manchester tour

Been round Manchester and Salford and Cheshire
Filming some poetry… Done it before
Some years ago back down in Staffordshire
It’s fun doing location shoots; it’s more
Worthwhile to do than just shooting indoors
At home. Andy and me toured all around
In my car once the rain had ceased to pour
And while initially we got poor sound
By standing closer to the mic, we found
The words were far more audible, clearer
For putting on You Tube; likely to score
With people who know us already; bound
To impress those who don’t, even viewers
Who thought that poetry was such a bore

1328 - Kiss this

The neighbours rowed yesterday afternoon
Which is far better timed than late at night
It was quite funny hearing her voice boom
From the window below in broad daylight
So everyone could hear, though there’d be slight
Or zero understanding of her words
Since she was talking turkey - no, not right -
She was talking Turkish… They could be Kurds
Maybe, but I don’t think so. They’ve been turds
At times, though, as these arguments can zoom
Up through the floorboards, dispelling dream-flights
Talking of which, I won’t be with the birds
On a plane to Greece; that holiday’s doomed
Since they cancelled that route. So long, Kiss Flights!
Sat 24 April