Windsor Street

No bunting flutters in the breeze,
no boys and girls, dressed up so neat,
with not a scratch upon their knees.
There are no flags on Windsor Street.

There are no parties in the yard,
the sandwiches will hold no meat.
They will send no greetings card
‘from the residents of Windsor Street’.

There are no beds of scented flowers,
there are no open arms to greet
the crumpled masses who spend their hours
huddled in corners on Windsor Street.

There are no canapés or quince
or any kind of special treat -
just calorific saturated fats since
the jobs were lost on Windsor Street.

So when the bride comes down the aisle
with platitudes thrown under her feet
the folk will try to raise a smile
at the injustice wrought on Windsor Street.

The cheering crowds will sing the happy couples praise,
choreographed to match the beat
of marching bands on sunny days
that never pierce the shadows on Windsor Street.

When the happy couple go to be bed
and lay beneath their privileged sheet
not a single thought enters their heads
of the detritus on Windsor Street.

Little England has it’s sideshow
with celebrities they’ll never meet -
meanwhile resentment will flourish and grow
in the humble abodes on Windsor Street.

© Ian Whiteley

Royal wedding 2018: Anti-monarchy group seeks police promise over protests on big day

Ian Whiteley is a performance poet from Wigan. He has had 2 poetry collections published and has released 3 CD’s of poetry/music. He is also ¼ of the performance poetry group, Bard Company.

Safety Off

The FBI and the CIA got ‘em

Good ‘ol boys in the KKK got ‘em

Even Doris Day got ‘em

But it don’t make ‘em safe

Kids in their daddies cars got ‘em

Rednecks in Dallas bars got ‘em

Sheriffs with tin stars got ‘em

But it don’t make ‘em safe

The white and black and brown got’ em

Old folks in mid-west town’s got ‘em

Even the Whitehouse clown got ‘em

But it don’t make ‘em safe

Clint Eastwood and John Wayne got ‘em

The holy and insane got ‘em

I’ve heard that Citizen Kane got ‘em

But it don’t make ‘em safe

Shopkeepers in their stores got ‘em

Vets returning from their wars got ‘em

Pimps and two bit whores got ‘em

But it don’t make ‘em safe

The Washington Post and Fox got ‘em

Randy high school jocks got ‘em

Snipers in tower blocks got ‘em

But it don’t make ‘em safe

Heroes on TV got ‘em

The brave and the free got ‘em

Babies on their mamas knees got ‘em

But it don’t make ‘em safe

The Waltons and the Brady’s got ‘em

The good guys and their ladies got ‘em

Tupac and Slim Shady’s got ‘em

But it don’t make ‘em safe

Every Independence day got ‘em

Every bullet that goes astray got ‘em

The whole of the USA got ‘em

And they’re never gonna be safe

© Ian Whiteley

Nearly 1,400 people were shot in the US during the week following the Las Vegas mass shooting

Ian Whiteley is a performance poet from Wigan. He has had 2 poetry collections published and has released 3 CD’s of poetry/music. He is also ¼ of the performance poetry group, Bard Company.

The Walkin’ Man

Serendipity Spangle was a walkin’ man -of that, there is no doubt,
he walked across great continents and was seen round here about.
With his low slung jeans and guitar, he had no need for fancy suits,
he just roamed the great blue yonder in his worm down cowboy boots .

Those who were there at his birth cross their hearts and tell no lies -
they say he came into this world singing and walked straight from his mammas thighs
out into the dustbowl road out there where he promptly disappeared
into the heart of America and was folk and country reared.

He walked the fields of Gettysburg, dried the tears of the crying.
He strolled the trenches of the Somme and comforted the dying.
He raised the flag at Iwo Jima, hung his head at Nagasaki,
stirred the spirit in Vietnam - his heart is red and khaki.

He’s been around a long, long time and many times he’s died,
but he walks into the valley of the shadow of death and comes out the other side
with a pale horse trailing behind him, riderless and out of breath,
Serendipity Spangle always wins the wrestle with Death.

For the poor, the weak, the hopeless - he will pacify the soul,
the depressed, the hurt, the dispossessed - chew it up and swallow it whole.
With his raging songs of freedom, you will hear the old folk talk,
of the time that Serendipity Spangle stopped by on his long walk.

You hear his footsteps echoing along these highways of dust
when Bob or Bruce or Pete Seeger ask you to place your trust
in poetry and a guitar and a minstrel of the road.
Serendipity Spangle will help you carry your heavy load.

A lonely figure steps out and walks into the moon
at the top of a country road, whistling a mournful tune.
When the sun rises tomorrow his footsteps will have blown away
on a warm and soothing prairie breeze. Walkin’ into another day.

For Pete Seeger (May 3rd 1919 – January 27th 2014)
Pete Seeger's Death
©Ian Whiteley

Ian Whiteley was born in Wakefield but lives in Wigan.

He is a performance poet with a poetry collection ‘A Step Towards Winter’ published recently and a CD of music & poetry ‘Poetic License’ released under the music project name THE CROWS OF ALBION.

http://www.writeoutloud.net/profiles/ianwhiteley

Daniel in the Hyena's Den

his limbs break like sticks
and these protectors
these vermin hurt him
he has no more dreams
only the lonely nights
locked in the room
where pain will come
with demon eyes.

Others see a thin child
nothing more
but much less in soul
they justify
their negligence
by quoting
numbers
pressures
temporary blindness.

Loveless little boy
whose only sin
is being born
to savages

the night comes
and the darkness
makes him cry
and in that crying
his fate is sealed
as one by one
the blows fall
until there is no
breath to breathe
no heart to beat
no tears to cry

pity etches scars
upon a tiny coffin
we should remember
and, as a nation, mourn him
we, who could not protect
a child
from the clutches
of hyenas

© Ian Whiteley

Daniel Pelka murder: Mother and partner given life

Ian Whiteley was born in Wakefield but lives in Wigan. He is a performance poet and his poetry collection ‘A Step Towards Winter’ was published recently. http://www.writeoutloud.net/profiles/ianwhiteley