Poems and ponderings on the health crisis that hit the world in early 2020.
Submitted by Janine on
My profit margin's wracked with doubt
My tax demands encumber
I think I know a good way out -
Now, where is Johnson's number?
I manufacture hoovers, mate,
but with a bit of luck
I'm sure I'll make them ventilate
and blow instead of suck
I'll slip the goods through Pirate Bay
and ship them up the Humber
While Customs look the other way -
Now, pass me Johnson's number
Submitted by Janine on
Janine launches her new collection of covid compositions with an hour (or maybe a little more) of verses versus the virus.
There will also be a contribution from special guest The Repeat Beat Poet - not to be missed! And there will be a presentation from the Safe and Equal campaignm, which has helped workers to win full sick and isolation pay during the pandemic.
Submitted by Janine on
Janine’s poetry is a raw and powerful expression of the solidarity between working- class people (in all our diversity) throughout history but also particularly the community resistance and togetherness that we have felt during the pandemic.
Nadia Whittome MP
Janine has, through these poems, accurately described life through the pandemic for millions, the frustrations and feelings of being undervalued throughout the mismanagement of it whilst low-paid, undervalued key workers have kept the country going. Absolutely brilliant from start to finish!
Sarah Woolley, General Secretary, Bakers Food and Allied Workers Union
Unprecedented Rhymes is a clever, big-mouthed, bitesize commentary on the first year of Covid-19. Its rollercoaster mirrors these broken times perfectly, right up to wondering if your legs are gonna work when you get off.
Gail ‘Something Else’, festival organiser
Prolific, radical and always topical, Janine Booth is one of the great performance poets of our age.
Attila the Stockbroker, poet, musician, troubadour
Janine Booth brings her trademark indomitable spirit to a collection of dangerously direct and honest poems, bottling a cocktail of emotions and human stories gathered across the first year of life under COVID-19 lockdown in the UK. Janine lays out the reality of corruption, neglect, and mismanagement, and rants her way to a definitive, defiant, and hopeful chronicle of life-under-lockdown.
The Repeat Beat Poet
No poet strikes a [power] chord with the feminist punk sorority more than Janine Booth.
Cassie Fox, Loud Women
Janine Booth is that rare creature, a political poet’s poet. In her work, fire and commitment stand clearly and fearlessly alongside creative clarity and razor-sharp warfare. She takes no hostages. These poems bluntly debunk the bullshit which we’re endless fed. Hers is no hackneyed voice. It comes to us fresh, fierce and fulsome. Embrace it.
Nick Toczek, poet and writer
Submitted by Janine on
Submitted by Janine on
If you're locked down with books
and a partner who cooks
better than you
Then you'll probably get through
If you're locked down with a garden
it might not be so hard and
with a nice glass of wine
You'll probably be fine
If you're locked down with games
and people who play them
and plenty of space
You can probably face it
Submitted by Janine on
Launching this anthology of pandemic poetry, Janine and other poets will read their contributions.
Email Janine for Zoom link.
Submitted by Janine on
Some people know what it is worth.
Some people can now buy fresh fruit.
Or keep the heating on for another hour.
Some people can get a decent present
for the kiddo's birthday.
Or a coat when winter comes in.
Some people don't always have to make an excuse
when their mate invites them out.
Submitted by Janine on
This is the text of my contribution to the debate at TUC Disabled Workers' Conference on 10 March 2019.
Hi. I'm Janine Booth, representing RMT. Our members work in the rail, road transport, shipping and offshore energy industries.
Submitted by Janine on
What if I can't stand the train
without the carriage to myself?
What if I can't stretch and strain
to reach up to the luggage shelf?
What if all the outside seats
are taken and the queue's too long?
And I don't recognise the streets
and can't see left or right or wrong?
Submitted by Janine on
Day 1 confined to room - no going out
Day 2 do push-ups, Netflix, clean the floor
Day 3 phone friends and scrub the tiling grout
Day 4 a breakfast bag outside the door
Day 5 phone friends and tell them how I'm feeling
Day 6 lean out the window for some air
Day 7 sit-ups, Netflix, clean the ceiling
Day 8 phone friends to tell them I still care
