Still they flood

Silvis Rivers has created a weird and wonderful video of one of his news poems. Do view;

Pete Being A True Cunt

Tittle-tattle, Twitter tales
Katie Price in Ibiza exhales
June twenty-fourth 2009
Jordan scandal all online

Does anyone care…
…for this media lair?
With her foul-mouthed rant
And its populist slant

Follow her lead
Your heart will not bleed
The entourage, the circus
Complaints by hotel workers

Drunken rampage fuelled by booze
Parasite journalists cannot lose
Photographers hot on the scene
Darling of the press, courted queen

Here she is in holiday shame
Loudmouth stars, they’re all the same
Her entourage are all on duty
They can’t cultivate any beauty

“He left me, not me leave him”
Hopes of subtley very slim
Very plain public faux pas
Stereotyped, stuck in the tar

Juli Watson

I Used to Read about Torture

I knew dates, techniques, the acronyms of paramilitaries.
I rolled up my sleeves, sharpened my pencil
and faced horror in black and white print.
When you believe in change
believe that by knowing you’re helping
you don’t shy away from the details.

As my understanding grew, thickening, layering
like twisted rope (which is also used as an implement)
I saw that it was complicated – state-sponsorship
amnesties, the interests of manufacturers.
But I had faith and studied harder.

Now I turn off the radio, close newspapers.
My thoughts shy away from rape
and whipping the soles of the feet
because what is the point? If I can do nothing
I’ll avert my eyes, buy sparkly things
have bubble baths and learn to live with evil.

by Charlotte Wetton


When Julie Kirkbride shagged Steven Milligan,
She didn’t know he’d get his fill again,
With Amyl Nitrate when she’d gone,
Stuffed in an orange that he’d bite on,
There in a cupboard he’d seek his thrill,
But he was truly dressed to kill,
As his cleaner did declare,
Finding his staring corpse in there,
Dressed in women’s underwear…

Fifteen years later, it’s Julie’s turn,
The wages of sin that she will earn,
Not dead, but only sent away,
Still possessed of her mortal clay,
And several houses too, to boot,
In all, a tidy pile of loot,
That she assembled most dilligently,
A conscientious, astute MP,
Now hung out to dry for all to see…

Andy Morley 25th June 2009

Roses are red
Violets are blue
the news is crooked
and politicians are too

Helen Krohn

The knives have been out in Formula One.
Mighty Max has nearly gone.
He’s coming to the end of his racing journey
After being shafted by little Bernie.
He’s just holding out for one last Hurrah.
From a whip wielding Nazi in a leather bra.

Crispin Fisher


June 25, 2009. Uncategorized.

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