Brave Greece

BRAVE GREECE

Daedalus and Icarus by Charles P. Landon

Daedalus and Icarus by Charles P. Landon

Daedalus and Icarus

On the verge of the abyss

Take a leap of faith,

Against the odds of their myth,

Against the advice of the raptors,

And jump onto paradise

To save their enslaved

Mother and wife.

They proudly left behind

Their burdens and blames

And now they glide light

Through winds of disdain,

Through purgatory’s clouds

Amongst Europe’s cheers,

As they escape from their funeral,

As they escape from their fears.

Copyright © 2015. Tony Martin-Woods (A.M.A.)

Todos los derechos reservados. All rights reserved

Grecia valiente

 

GRECIA VALIENTE

 

Dédalo e Ícaro, de Charles P. Landon

Dédalo e Ícaro, de Charles P. Landon

Ícaro y Dédalo

al borde del abismo

saltan sin lastre

en busca del paraíso.

 

Ya planean majestuosos

por nubes de purgatorios,

ya planean sin miedo

para escapar del tanatorio.

 

Europa les jalea.

Alea jacta est.

 

Copyright © 2015. Tony Martin-Woods (A.M.A.)

Todos los derechos reservados. All rights reserved

 

Solidarity

SOLIDARITY

 

Prime Minister,

 

This is dramatic.
Humanity can’t wait.

 

Her Majesty,

 

Children die,
rotting in the streets.

 

Chancellor,

 

Let’s pull our weight
to end this misery and hell.

 

We understand, Tony,

 

Equipment, water, food
can be sent in due course.

 

But we’ll do things properly,
we’ll connect with the nation
capturing the imagination
of every decent mind and soul.

 

Let the public jump
off our glorious cliffs
with hand-made parachutes
and Mickey Mouse full kits.

 

Let them fly to the jungle,
to run a triathlon,
in the scorching heat,
wearing a fur coat
(a plastic one, I mean).

 

White nose Johnny
will sing a love song
in 5 different languages,
naked,
in the North Pole.

 

Oh,
and Chris Evans can auction
a red gorgeous Ferrari,
on a BBC show.

 

Bidders will flock!

 

…and forget about politics,
forget it, you fool!

 

…forget taxing the rich
they could leave us soon.

 

…forget about solidarity,
charity will just do!

 

Copyright © 2014. Tony Martin-Woods (A.M.A.)
Todos los derechos reservados. All rights reserved

Sweet little sperm

Japanese workers in California. Flickr. Library of Congress

SWEET LITTLE SPERM

 

Keep moving your tail,
sweet little sperm.
Show us what you are made of,
thrive to compete,
reach for the stars
in England’s global dream.

 

Keep moving your tail,
sweet little sperm.
Don’t worry if it’s just white tissue
where you have to navigate:
The world’s changing fast,
don’t refrain to adapt
to exciting new terrains.

 

Keep moving your tail,
sweet little sperm.
We don’t want any
foreign,
faster,
bastard
sperm
to get there,
to get anywhere,
in fact,
before you.

 

Keep moving your tail,
sweet little sperm,
if you’re idle, you’ll be dead.
I know there is no egg,
but who needs more of them
if technology will soon
allow to replicate,
even in their solitude,
individuals like you
who can’t find a mate?

 

Keep moving your tail,
sweet little sperm,
it’ll do you good.
You don’t want to be fat,
like me,
or have cholesterol.
Football game on campus, McGill University, Montreal, QC, about 1900. Anonymous. Flickr. Notman photographic Archives - McCord Museum.

Football game on campus, McGill University, Montreal, QC, about 1900. Anonymous. Flickr.
Notman photographic Archives – McCord Museum.

Keep moving your tail,
sweet little sperm,
it’s in your DNA
(and in my IDS),
like our sporting traditions,
discipline, skill,
our culture of duty,
glorious league tables,
sacrifice, routine.

 

Keep moving your tail,
sweet little sperm,
but do not demonstrate!
Do not complain!
Do not affiliate!
Put a brave face
and get on with it!
Keep calm, carry on!
Don’t believe what anyone says,
just believe in you.

 

Keep moving your tail,
sweet little sperm.
Your welfare depends
on the vibrancy of your motion,
your speed up the stream
and so does my wage,
and my job,
and the profits of thousands
of savvy businessmen
who trade
with the energy
of the movement
of your tail,
sweet little sperm.

 

Rubber Bands A worker at the recently opened Dunlop Factory in Cork slicing rubber for tyres. 13 September 1935. Flickr. National Library of Ireland

Rubber Bands
A worker at the recently opened Dunlop Factory in Cork slicing rubber for tyres. 13 September 1935. Flickr. National Library of Ireland

Copyright © 2014. Tony Martin-Woods (A.M.A.)
Todos los derechos reservados. All rights reserved

The Echo of the Story

THE ECHO OF THE STORY

 

The withering heir

Gave a name to the empire

Of brave ornaments

And healing chronicles

For the tarnished glory

Of the ruling heroes

Who tamed him

With whisky

And killed him

With a bullet of gold.

 

And now it’s David,

the star of the quiz show,

Who has the key

Of the victim’s coffin.

 

Rule Britannia

Britannia rules the books

 

Copyright © 2013. Tony Martin-Woods (A.M.A)

Todos los derechos reservados. All rights reserved.

It’s a Free Market

IT’S A FREE MARKET

 

Lively chit chat

At the infallible tempo

Of the clinking of glass.

 

A drizzle of jazz

On live canapés.

 

Waiters who model.

 

Our man

Keeps his business cards

Very close to his chest.

No rush, no push.

He knows what is right

He knows who to approach

He knows how to wait

He knows when to fall

Softly and warmly

On his pickled prey:

The greedy relation

Who awaits with a smirk

For the usual courting.

 

Education,

Health,

Weapons,

Research,

Transport,

Land,

It’s all up for grabs,

It is all fair game,

It’s all the same,

It’s all just money,

At the end of the day.

(We don’t discriminate cash for its colour).

 

And

 

When the deal is ready,

 

The cloths of both parties

 

Drop discreetly on the floor.

 

Only Private Eye

Knows the strength of their bids.

 

No chance

For clean

Spreadsheets,

No need

For financial

Prophylaxis,

No point

In trimming the hedges.

This is,

Brutally,

A family affair,

Lubricated with the spark

Of Conservative Champagne.

 

Sneaky voyeurs

Pay a good price

For the steam in the room

Where business thrives,

Where public assets

End up privatised,

Where bastards in arms

Trade our demise.

 

Broadcasted in Bloomberg

For the rest of the world!

Close-ups available

In the salmon press!

 

 

Copyright © 2012-2015. Tony Martin-Woods (A.M.A.)

Todos los derechos reservados. All rights reserved.

Industrial Revolution

INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION

 

Aisles of stone along the river

Fed tall incestuous mills

With innocent blood and talent

In tamed pastures of England’s glory.

 

Selfless surrender of joy and pride

Bread, butter, beer and sweat 

 

Casually awaken plastic dreams

Watered down metal pain

Fractured spikes of wooden bones

In hung-over dark junk yards

 

Selfless flowers of art spring

Organic rot of Northern progress

 

Copyright © 2012. Tony Martin-Woods (A.M.A)

Todos los derechos reservados. All rights reserved.

El “banco malo”

El “banco malo”

 

Para que el banco malo funcione,

tiene que ser malo de verdad

y si no que no lo hagan

y que se queden como están.

 

Empleados de banca sin sueldo

que vendan opciones de ahorro

y futuros de cuenta corriente

a quebrados, muertos y tontos.

 

Letra pequeña invisible

comisión del mil por cero

para contratos sin fecha

escritos en arameo.

 

Tarjetas redondas de agua

cajeros hechos de harina

que den billetes de viento

con tinta blanca corrida.

 

Hipotecas sin inmuebles

para deudas sin acreedores

monjitas de la caridad

que embarguen males mayores.

 

“Pagarías” y “chaqués”

librados sin ningún fondo

firmados con pluma verde

de pingüino albino rojo.

 

¡Sucursales en barrancos

balances duodecimales

teléfonos insonoros

atracadores policiales!

 

¡Ingeniería contable y legal,

imaginación al poder!

 

¡Enciende la luz, amigo,

que en Europa empieza a atardecer!

 

Copyright © 2012 Tony Martin-Woods (A.M.A.)

Todos los derechos reservados. All rights reserved