London is dying from knife crime

Stab!...Stab!...Stab!
Another death on our street

Stab!...Stab!...Stab!
Another life incomplete

Stab!...Stab!...Stab!
Young body cold concrete

Slash!...Slash!...Slash!
Another Bobby taken off the beat

London is dying from knife crime
Gangs running riot fighting all the time

Innocents murdered for standing on the street
People are killed, pieces of meat

Police have disappeared through funding cuts
Now we're paying the price with blood, gore and guts

We must try to protect our vulnerable youth
Teach them right from wrong, teach them truth

This shouldn't be happening in modern times
Government failure now political crimes

Invest in our kids and the whole of society
If we're ever to stop the killing and relieve anxiety

© Robin Welsh

Donald Trump's remarks on tackling knife crime in London 'ridiculous', surgeon says

Robin Welsh writes poems and rhymes daily about all life in general...but mainly politics, human rights and world affairs. Performing at every opportunity he can get, not yet published because of procrastination.

893.35 Quadrillion to One

I love to camp in the wilderness,
amongst the animals and trees.
Love to sleep with nature,
sleep in the mist,
embrace the light night breeze

But

Wilderness don't like me,
a snake bit me, bad

I love to hike in the mountains,
views and scenery to die for,
excitement beyond no other,
camping wild, camping,
my head on Mothers floor

But

Camping don't like me,
a bear found me and bit my head

I love to go body surfing,
wind in my hair,
salt water swimming,
just my shorts to wear,
swim in the ocean with the fish and the tide,
out in the open with nowhere to hide

But

Body surfing don't like me,
a shark saw me and bit my leg

I really love the beautiful and wild nature of our precious earth

But

It don't like me...

and I don't care!

© Robin Welsh

Man bitten by shark, bear, and snake, had odds of 893 Quadrillion to one

Robin Welsh writes poems and rhymes daily about all life in general...but mainly politics, human rights and world affairs. Performing at every opportunity he can get, not yet published because of procrastination.

Out of sight out of mind

No one will know

They'll just forget

For his own good

I have no regret

Out of sight

Out of mind

Out of society

Soul confined

He's mentally ill

Pain to be around

Messing about

You'll not hear a sound

Not very bright

Not for his age

I'll lock him away

Kept in a cage

For 20 years

More if I can

No bother to you

This is Japan

Violent tantrums

Uncontrollable strops

Bad behaviour

Imprisoned till it stops

In the garden

In a small hut

He'll just exist

With the door shut

Don't worry for him

He's watered and fed

He'll be ok

Well at least not dead

He's looked after

Has no need

Knew nothing else

Until he was freed

Finally released

Released from his cell

Given freedom

From his living hell

© Robin Welsh

Japanese Man Locked Son in Cage for 20 Years

Robin Welsh writes poems and rhymes daily about all life in general...but mainly politics, human rights and world affairs. Performing at every opportunity he can get, not yet published because of procrastination.

We're not human when we become a stat

Data is who we are now

Information is all they need

We're not human when we become a stat

Just a potential lead

Potential profit

Consumer, supporter

Or even the gold mine of a new voter

Harvesting data

Reaping the reward

Analysing you

Selling abroad

We're not human when we become a stat

Lost on spread sheet

Or in some analytical graph

Spied on, listened to, watched

Skills they use

Tricks of the trade

Technological abuse

Trust betrayed

Surveys, poll's

Questionnaire

Giving away your life

Totally unaware

We're not human when we become a stat

© Robin Welsh

Cambridge Analytica: Watchdog examines 'evidence' after London office raid

Robin Welsh writes poems and rhymes daily about all life in general...but mainly politics, human rights and world affairs. Performing at every opportunity he can get, not yet published because of procrastination.

Wolf and I

I know he's watching, he knows I know,

Keeping his distance but on my trail,

Has been for over a week nearly two

Following wherever I go, his instincts are strong

He knows I have water, he knows of my food,

Does he trust me enough to ask?

Waiting patiently to make his move,

Pacing up and down with anxiety, starving, thirsty, on edge,

It all gets too much as I cook up a meal.

He makes himself known, slowly he walks towards me,

Crouching low and moving slow as too not scare me.

Still wary he gets closer, head bowed, tail down,

I reach out with some scraps. Stretching his neck he takes,

He wolfs down the offerings, backing away slightly, nervously.

I offer water from a bottle from which he devours, and doesn't spill a drop.

Our eyes connect, we have trust, understanding, and respect.

A friendship of unconditional trust brought by necessity.

I don't fear him, nor him me, we are one with the wilds,

A relationship so natural, a friendship, a companionship of convenience.

We are there for each other in support, he's watching my back,

I pack up and continue my journey, my new friend follows, closely.

He follows with hope.

I'm humbled to call him my friend.

© Robin Welsh

The Tories have voted that animals can't feel pain as part of the EU bill, marking the beginning of our anti-science Brexit

Robin Welsh writes poems and rhymes daily about all life in general...but mainly politics, human rights and world affairs. Performing at every opportunity he can get, not yet published because of procrastination.

A killer on the loose

There's a killer on the loose and it's heading your way,

Temperature hits -11

Be prepared you'd better be prepared,

No care on who goes to heaven

Jumpers, gloves and scarves are a life saver,

Don't spend too long outside

Roads and streets become impassable,

Time to hibernate or just wrap up and hide

There's a killer on the loose and it's heading your way,

Taking the old and the young

Everything glistens innocently,

With the power to freeze the heart or the lung

Such awesome beauty with a death touch,

No one can deny its wonder

Always respect the strength of mother nature,

Or you will end up six feet under

There's a killer on the loose and it's heading your way,

We must protect the vulnerable and needy

Don't forget those living outside,

Homeless because of the greedy

They will struggle more than most,

In these harshest of times

I'll leave a thought for them or even a blanket

As I want no more victims of these wintery murderous crimes

© Robin Welsh

UK weather: Worst winter for 5 years on the way with temperatures set to plummet to MINUS 11

Robin Welsh writes poems and rhymes daily about all life in general...but mainly politics, human rights and world affairs. Performing at every opportunity he can get, not yet published because of procrastination.

Normal People

A foreign world, nothing I could imagine

People, real people doing different things

They're weird and unusual but it seems,...well...just normal

Normal people, normal people...

No extremism, no radicals, no IS

A foreign world I don't understand, I must brown my face

Who's ever seen a white Muslim?...I must brown my face

Lots of people doing the same thing, in a mosque

It looks normal, normal like a church congregation

No radicals, no IS

Hijabs and skull caps, a foreign world I don't understand

I must brown my face, wear a hijab and see for myself

Why do I fear them?

They're different because I'm white

So, I will fit in...I'll brown my face and wear a hijab

I'm the same now, normal people, normal...

No IS

© Robin Welsh

My Week as a Muslim might be 2017's most divisive show

Robin Welsh writes poems and rhymes daily about all life in general...but mainly politics, human rights and world affairs. Performing at every opportunity he can get, not yet published because of procrastination.

Menstrual tax

Tax me because I'm a woman

Tax me because I bleed

Make me pay more than men

Pay for their unused seed

My life is hard enough

Without taxing my menstrual flow

A monthly period of blood

A period of mess below

Is a towel a luxury?

According to government it is

But it only affects the Her's

It don't affect the His

What happens when I have no means or cash?

To pay this unequal uneven tax

When I can't afford a tampon or pad

These are everyday facts

This is without the sadness of PMT or PMS

Man has no idea of the pain or the bloody stress

Why would you tax a woman just for being her?

How do you tax a towel that woman is forced to wear?

This taxation is way out of line, unjust and morally wrong

Its time to end this crippling tax

Menstruation's been exploited way too long!

© Robin Welsh

Labour promise free sanitary products for girls and women in bid to tackle 'period poverty'

Robin Welsh writes poems and rhymes daily about all life in general...but mainly politics, human rights and world affairs. Performing at every opportunity he can get, not yet published because of procrastination.

Sunday 'Shorts'

A typical Tinder date

"Our date at Nandos went so well, why don't you come back to mine"?

"A scientology doc awaiting and a lovely bottle of wine"

She maybe the special one, the one I've been waiting for all my life

Maybe the one that will eventually become my wife

An hour into our evening and all is going great

Then she tells me she needs the loo, "I think it's something I ate"

Off she went to the toilet to do a number two

But she encountered a problem with a floating poo

"I've made a slight error I feel a bit of a fool"

"I tried throwing out the window a rogue floating stool"

But the turd didn't go it landed between panes

And it all went wrong when we tried to retrieve these remains

She said "As I'm a gymnast I'll reach and grab the crap"

We managed to get the poo out, the window now became her trap

15 minutes upside-down, I panicked and rang the fire brigade

They came within minutes and released her from this charade

I appreciate a toilet more than ever before, it was an important poo

I now raise money for 3rd world countries to have access to a flushing loo

I also learnt a few things from this Tinder date

1stly she's not the one for me

2ndly a diet of low fibre high fat will create a floater

3rdly Don't throw excrement out of windows.

© Robin Welsh

The Story Of A Woman Stuck Upside-Down In A Window Which Has Taken Over The Internet

Robin writes poems and rhymes daily about all life in general...but mainly politics, human rights and world affairs. Performing at every opportunity he can get, not yet published because of procrastination.

Python Round the Bend

All animal lovers down in Southend

Began to gasp with shock and amazement

At what seemed a hoax or entertainment

When a python emerged from round the bend.

But on lifting the seat not to offend

A snake is not part of the arrangement

Stubborn disbelief causing resentment

For the young boy involved did not pretend.

Still the snake catcher arrived most promptly

To confirm the facts from expert training;

Travelling upwards from the sewer below

A harmless serpent most definitely

In search of freedom after escaping,

Scaring a lad who just wanted to go.

© David Subacchi

Python found lurking in bathroom toilet in Southend

David lives in Wales where he was born of Italian roots. He studied at the University of Liverpool and has five published collections of poetry.
He writes in English, Welsh and Italian.

13 years asleep

Asleep, but still conscious

Aware of all around me

I'm not dead

I'm still here

I know you're here too

I can hear you

I can feel you

You don't know I know

You don't care for me

13 years as a ghost

Most wish I was dead

I do too sometimes

I cant take anymore

I don't want abuse

I want to wake

No more nightmare

No more sleep

No more torture of TV

No more scalding food

Treat me as a human

Treat me with respect

I respect you

I know I will awake

I will awake

I will be me again

You just watch...

© Robin Welsh

MAN WAS TRAPPED INSIDE HIS OWN BODY FOR 13 YEARS

Robin writes poems and rhymes daily about all life in general...but mainly politics, human rights and world affairs. Performing at every opportunity he can get, not yet published because of procrastination.

City Boys

They fall from the top

They fall from grace

Home is a penthouse

Never see their face

Lamborghinis

Gucci

The Ivy

And yachts

Gamble with billions

Like playing the slots

That's what they do

These City boys

Make the rich richer

To buy bigger toys

When they lose

A really big bet

Who really loses?

Who pays the debt?

They fall from the top

They fall from grace

These city boys

In the trading place

© Robin Welsh

City worker dies in fall from seventh floor of London Stock Exchange

Robin writes poems and rhymes daily about all life in general...but mainly politics, human rights and world affairs. Performing at every opportunity he can get, not yet published because of procrastination.