2019 05 – Poems


  • Legal aid to defend an ISIS girl causes a storm,
  •   but not as big a storm as that which destroyed Iraq,
  • in fact, the demise of Libya and almost Syria,
  •   was, and is, the norm.
  • Big buttocked British Army majors rant on TV as if correct
  •   when they took away the civil and human rights
  • of Middle-Eastern nations at a cost of billions.
  •   It was a neo-liberal carpet-bombing fight
  • to the dance of the cotillion.
  •   They who fought back survived a cyclone of steel rain,
  • the falling suns of incredible temperatures.
  •   Those who volunteered, as they did for Republican Spain,
  • inherited death, torture and beheading as their signature,
  •   answered by kindly fighter-bombers who sought only
  • to kiss the earth,
  •   backed by a C-of-E choir in khaki uniforms,
  • as if evensong filled in for the meanness of spirit
  •   and its dearth,
  • though to acknowledge the truth is to have an Imperial brainstorm.

Wilson John Haire. 15th April, 2019



  • What a week, what a week
  •   made worse by a media tweak.
  • That English Canute crowd
  •   sat on roads cold-arsed and proud.
  • Lyra reported from an armoured position,
  •   not remembering her parent’s situation
  • when petrol bombs glared
  •   and stray bullets never cared.
  • The Minotaur, birth parents Bush and Blair,
  •   fed ferociously in its Sri Lanka lair.

Wilson John Haire. 27th April, 2019



  • If dinosaurs could have fixed climate change
  •     they’d still be about within our range.
  • If Britain had cancelled the industrial revolution
  •     there would only be peasants now as a solution,
  • instead of being occupied by a nation-state
  •     who burnt coal and forged steel at a hell of a rate.
  • Now the UK lives by the casino and the air is relatively clear
  •    though a whiff of manufacturing puts them in fear.
  • They want to get back to the grass and the woods
  •     but with iPhones, and growing their own shoes if they could.
  • Meanwhile
  •   with guile
  • plant life fills the lifeless, the pale of face,
  •     a paranoid anxiety hits the elitist race.

Wilson John Haire.  29th April, 2019