News From Bromham - Dateline Sunday 13th September 2015

Bulletin From Bromham: Dateline – Sunday 13^th September 2015

                                             

Here is our weekly round-up of events from Bromham:

1.       Bromham’s Swarfega Memorial Hall was packed to the rafters last night for the Last Night of the Toms.  The crowd, dressed in traditional costumes which heavily featured baler twine and grockle hats sang all the usual favourites such as “Jerusalem Artichoke”, “Land of Kale and Glory”, “God Save The Bean”, and “Auld Lang Leek”.

2.       The result was announced yesterday lunchtime of the election for the leadership of the Carrot-Rooters Action Party (CRAP), after the earlier resignation of Ted Willeybanned.  The new leader will be Jezzer “Cor” Binn, a bearded left-wing intellectual who had previously been working as a slopper-out at the local pig-farm and abattoir.  His first task will be to re-unite his party around an agenda and manifesto to ensure that they will never form the majority in the Parish Council ever again.

3.       For details of these and all other Bromham stories, don’t forget to listen to local radio station Carrot FM.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

Wargames - Game of Drones

Wargames     - Game of Drones

                                                                                                            

Heads bowed forward

to concentrate upon the task

clean-shaven faces

beneath the headsets

reflect the screen-glow

amid an arcade of work-stations

computers and communications

racks and tangled cables

hands upon the joysticks

making careful corrections

to course and altitude

fingers flicking nervously

around the bomb-buttons

as the targets come into focus

An aerial view of desert landscape

criss-crossed with beaten tracks

unfolds slowly far below

small settlements of human habitation

at the correct co-ordinates

and the sought-after compounds

encompassed by perimeter walls

home to suspected fighters

insurgent enemies

in a distant combat zone

The transmission time-delay

of remote telemetry

muffles the stark reality

of sound and vision

of the over-flying drone

dealing out its deadly cargo

of silent sky-borne death

whilst the pilots sit secure

removed from any jeopardy

detached and unconnected

bunkered beneath the ground

in a rural homeland

amid cool and air-conditioned calm

within the secure perimeter

behind the blast-door

 Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

Outrage

Outrage

The explosion comes

Always without warning

The ear-drum splitting noise

The force of the blast

And the percussive shock-wave

Of shrapnel flying in all directions

Screams of terror filling the air

And dust-clouds billowing

As if to coat the bloody bodies

And hide them from inspection

The cracking of concrete

And the crunch of shattered glass

An uneven layer of dusty debris

The smoking aftermath of bombers

Dealing out death and indiscriminate injury

Damaged bodies and severed limbs

Casualties littered across the street

The wail of urgent sirens

Heralds the arrival of police and paramedics

Who crawl across the wreckage

Pulling out maimed and mangled bodies

In unseen heroic acts

But who later on are more visible

Standing outside the hospitals

And before the cameras

Detailing the deceased

And estimating numbers

And yet these official figures

Take on very different meanings

Whether in Boston or Baghdad

In London or Afghanistan

Where the value of a Western life

Becomes inflated by the media

And where a Middle Eastern soul

Who was someone’s husband

Mother, father, brother

A lately-living person

Is reduced to just a cipher

Just a nameless victim

And somehow worth a little less

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

Shakespeare's Plays Explained in Three Lines

Shakespeare’s Plays explained in three lines

A.      The Comedy of Errors

1.       Two sets of identical twins are separated at birth

2.       One set goes looking for the other set

3.       Everybody gets mixed up and some very high jinks ensue

B.      A Midsummer Night’s Dream

1.       Two couples run into fairy-infested woods

2.       Puck puts a love potion into people’s eyes

3.       Everyone falls in love with the wrong person

C.      The Winter’s Tale

1.       Leontes accuses his wife Hermione of adultery

2.       Some poor guy gets eaten by a bear

3.       Sixteen years later a statue comes to life and all ends well

D.      Troilus And Cressida

1.       Troilus loves Cressida

2.       Cressida is given to the Greeks

3.       Homer’s Iliad happens

E.       Henry VI Part 3

1.       Henry is king (twice)

2.       Edward is king (twice)

3.       Henry dies

F.       Richard II

1.       Richard banishes his cousin Henry

2.       Henry comes back & takes Richard’s crown

3.       Richard dies

G.     Richard III

1.       Richard wants to be king

2.       Richard kills lots of people in order to be king

3.       Richard is killed

H.     Macbeth

1.       Three witches tell Macbeth he will be king

2.       Macbeth kills lots of people in order to be king

3.       Macbeth is killed

I.        Hamlet

1.       The ghost of Hamlet’s father tells Hamlet to avenge him

2.       Hamlet talks a LOT about avenging his father.  I mean on and on and on

3.       Hamlet avenges his father

J.        Julius Caesar

1.       Cassius and Brutus assassinate Julius Caesar

2.       Mark Anthony gives a really long speech

3.       Cassius & Brutus kill themselves

K.      King Lear

1.       Lear gives all his wealth away to two of his three daughters

2.       Lear loses his marbles, big time

3.       Lear dies a miserable old man, along with all three of his daughters

L.       Othello

1.       Othello believes his pretty young wife has deceived him

2.       He kills her in a fit of pique

3.       Lots of people get stabbed and Othello dies. Oh bollocks!

M.    Titus Andronicus

1.       Lots of deaths

2.       More deaths

3.       Just lots and lots of death

Safari, So Good

Safari, So Good – a poem un-inspired by a visit to Longleat in the rain

It might be a strange thing to want to do,

But I had a craving to go to the park,

Not to that flat thing at the end of the road,

But to see the creatures saved from the Ark.

I wanted to see animals all exotic,

From Asia and Africa and such.

(I know that I’m living in Wiltshire,

But surely, it’s not asking too much?)

So we drove off down to Longleat,

And followed the signs right up the path,

Where they’ve got all sorts of creatures,

Including the latest Marquess of Bath.

Now I know it probably costs a few bob,

To build a few enclosures and cages,

But I didn’t think it’d cost me so much:

To get in was at least a week’s wages!

And we should have picked better weather,

Cause the day was all cloudy and wet,

And I think it were on a cold Monday,

The most miserable day you could get.

The animals were getting over their week-end,

Sunday must have been better, I’ve no doubt,

So they were all sleeping it off,

And none of them wanted to come out.

We couldn’t choose, to go on a Jungle Cruise,

For the boats were all moored up that day.

We had a short phase, lost in the Monkey Maze,

But even the meerkats slept – what can I say?

We repaired to the Capybara Café,

But they didn’t have anything we’d want,

Nor did we stay, in the Hippo Hideaway,

And ended up in the Rhino Restaurant.

My Safari Burger had made me feel bad,

So I had no wish to go on the Funfair,

What I needed were the great open spaces,

The Africa Drive-Thru and get some fresh air.

This’ll be good, we thought as we drove,

We’ll see the wide open Savannah at least,

With buffaloes, giraffes and some zebra,

And great herds of wildebeest.

  

Alas the experience was somewhat different,

Past warning notices and thence,

Two sets of gates and piles of barbed wire,

Warders in Jeeps, and a security fence.

Security cameras watched our every move

To ensure that we weren’t in any danger,

You weren’t allowed out of the car,

And we were watched every few yards by a ranger.

It was a bit like being in Parkhurst,

Not that I’ve been there, you know,

Except there was nothing for the captives to do,

Not even some mail-bags to sew.

The lions were bored and sat under the trees,

Like listless teen-agers kicking their heels;

Eyeing all the tasty-looking people in cars:

To them we must’ve looked like Meals on Wheels.

Then out of the final enclosure,

The short line of cars and vans waggled,

A quick trip to the Tiger Toilets,

And then homeward, weary and bedraggled.

So if you’re looking for a wildlife experience,

Whilst you’re dreaming, or lying in bed,

Take a word of advice from someone who knows,

Save up, and go to Africa instead.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

I saw her again the other day

For the first time out in sunshine

Smiling, bright and happy

Laughing with the other guests

At some dreary garden party

And I admired her whitened skin

Pearlescent clear

Smooth and unblemished

Her long elegant arms

And her perfect figure

Exquisitely displayed

In her low-cut summer dress

And as she turned away

To talk to someone else

Revealing the perfect curve of her back

I could see the merest whipline

A long extended tongue

Curling from out the mouth

Of the dragon hidden there

Emerging from beneath

The taut and silken edge

Of the light material

Where it entwined itself

And inter-mingled

With the crouching tiger

Peeking out from just below

And I thought of the ferocity

Of these two snarling beasts

Which invaded the empty canvas of her skin

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

Mole

Mole

Early morning garden wandering

Feeling the wetness of dew

From the lawn’s long grass

Soaking through the shoe-soles

I stumble across something

That upsets the leisurely stroll

The tell-tale signs of spoil-heaps

The unmistakeable evidence

Of the presence of mole

Mounds are scattered round

Creating an irregular landscape

Pitted by small soil-mountains

Piles of loam above ground

Tunnelled out from down below

Such vandalism is not caused by the vole

These burrowings and diggings

Are of something a size larger

That can only suggest mole

I can trace the track of his wanderings

The lines that betray channels below

As he blindly pursues his lone destiny

And I wonder if he ever pokes his head up

To see where he’s got to today?

The underneath’s now riddled with holes

A scene of rural despoilation

Where the worms have scattered in panic

In their heedless flight from the mole

And I’ll whack the piles with a spade

Trying to flatten them down once again

In a quite futile gesture of anger

That will do little good in the end

For my little invader won’t be deterred

And I know deep down in my soul

That once he’s taken up residence

He’ll stick around for some time

And I’ll be sharing my lawn with a mole

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015