My Poems

Having written and performed as The Big J in the 1980s, Janine started again in 2014, after a brief interlude of around a quarter of a century.

Froms sonnets to villanelles, limericks to ballads, the occasional rap and plenty of straightforward rants, serious and humorous and sometimes both, here is Janine's verse.

We Apologise for the Disruption

Tweets of distress from Peterborough
The text all drenched in fears

Signal failure - help us please -
Bring crosswords, cake and beers

We've been stuck here for two whole hours.
Now wipe away your tears

And count yourself lucky, I tweet back -
I was stuck there eleven years

Kids in Crates

They keep children in containers
Crate them and detain them
Gate them and restrain them

No watering or feeding
The potted, planted seedlings
In readiness for weeding

They'll live but they won't grow
Goaded, loaded, shipped to go
With winter whipping in the snow

It's probably for the best
To centres to be processed
The furthest and the closest

Letter from America

Dear ...

Hello, I am Erica
I have earning chance for you
I do profitable work at home
My children help out too
I make a thousand pounds a week
At something you can do

Hello, I am Erica
And you have won a prize!
You are this month's lucky one
You won't believe your eyes
You don't remember entering?
Well, what a nice surprise!

Gove Alone

Michael Gove's most wicked crime
As far as most of us can tell
Was not to leave his kid behind
But leaving ours behind as well

BoJo Logic

Boris arms the Saudis
They use those arms to kill
He says if we don't arm them
Then other countries will

So when I next see Boris
His nuts will meet my knee
And if I get arrested
Then this will be my plea:

Oh officer, I claim my act
Was for the greater good
And if I hadn't done it
Some other fucker would

Babyface

You don't look small and cute enough
Your upper lip has grown some fluff
You look quite tall and rather tough
You show the scars of sleeping rough
You look so foreign, feral, wild
You don't look like a child

Alterations to the Schedule at the Picturehouse and Ritzy

We've cancelled Night Of The Living Dead
To show Day Of The Living Wage instead
On strike because Honey, I Shrunk Their Wage
​They've Anger at Management, they're showing Rage

​When they Walk The Line, they mean the picket
It's Independence Day and It's just Not Cricket
​No Terms Of Endearment, but terms and conditions
No Western Union, they want union recognition

Pages

Subscribe to RSS - My Poems