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WHATEVER HAPPENED TO VANDAL RAPTOR? UK tour

Find The Right Words, Leicester : 16th May

The Hovel Session, York: 25th May

Gong Fu Poets, Coxhoe: 31st May

Depresstival Presents..., London: 3rd June

Off Yours!, Leeds: 6th June

Good Shout, Peterborough: 13th June

Supporting Jollyboat, Knaresborough: 22nd June

Brig-Aid Fundraiser, Fruit, Hull: 23rd June

Slam Dunk, Hastings: 28th June

Word Club, Leeds: 29th June

Verse Matters, Sheffield, 5th July

Say Owt @ Deer Shed Festival, 21st July

Say Owt @ Great Yorkshire Fringe, York: 25th July

Working Title, Lancaster, 26th July

Poetry Jam, Durham: 4th October

Friday, 28 September 2012

The Future Had Arrived

Here's a poem about tuition fees/EMA/Gove shake-ups.  It's a bit down and depressing.  When school pupils and college students start occupying and the NUT start striking, I'll write an inspirational one.

Click HERE to listen and download
 
The Future Had Arrived
While we carved our names into school desks when we were boys and girls, politicians carved their names into history books as they carved up the world.  As the bombs dropped abroad, we dropped out or tapped in.  The future had arrived, we left the Millennium Bug in the dust and caught the iBug, got connected to the world then downloaded our fair share, let the world come into our homes, became secure in 21st century software.

Our names were written on application forms, added to Student Union databases and exam timetables.  Or printed on name badges at the local High Street store, proudly taking our paychecks home and feeling independent while the High Street names put their money into independent islands.

Some of our names ended up on gravestones to mark the end of a life lost in the foreign wars we fought in.  Some battles were local, and when we were defeated, we were forgotten.

I remember being the future, but then I became the present.  Sold on the pretext Things Can Only Get Better, a line from the past played on repeat until the words lost meaning.  England was still dreaming, slept through the world crashing down, let the bankers tip-toe around.  Then, fuelled by this belief we were still the future, we voted, believed a lie disguised as a promise.  A generation crippling the next, believing a politician could be honest.

In these low times, these names are unlikely to make the history books.  Alongside war-mongers, Yes We Canners and future Kings and Queens, who will remember the little men and women implementing shake-ups to education schemes?

The children and teens of today will learn these names.  And remember them.  Children never forget playground chants, as they grow-up these choruses remain.  Teenagers never forget insults or nicknames.  Even when the world spins round, and the future becomes the present, the youth become the adults, those names of early 21st century leaders will be detested.

Names followed by a spit.  Who took welfare and education and carved it up.  A generation tagged underachievers, left to rot.  Whose names mean nothing, statistics and digits.  Bled of choice until there is nothing left.  Just names of boys and girls carved into school desks.

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