I grew up in a rural, seaside spot.
Where winters were cold, and summers were hot.
Spent sunny days on the riverbank fishing all day.
Until the bailiff came and chased us away.
We’d play games on the beach and soak up the sun.
Until strangers arrived and ended our fun.
They took over the beach and shooed us away.
And told us to find somewhere else to play.
More and more strangers arrived every year.
The farms were all built on as jobs disappeared.
The strangers kept coming and were happy to pay.
When our landlords sold out, we could no longer stay.
The place is now heaving on hot summer days.
The remaining few busy on minimum wage.
Priced out of the village where we had all grown.
A winter a ghost town, we once called home.
Our magical haven of tranquillity
Is now full of holiday homes and Airbnb’s.
The farm hands and fishermen no longer belong.
The strangers now own it and the locals have gone.
'Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! all stand,'
said the bailiff before remand,
as legal eagles had looked for loopholes,
flaws in the law,
large enough to lose a lorry,
is that what they became lawyers for?
If I had taken their advice,
blindly handed out to me,
I'd have gone directly to jail,
if not in a trice.
Attorneys, barristers, solicitors,
ambulance chasers,
searching for victims
so they may litigate,
seen one you've seen them all,
what's not to hate?
Tinge, thy colors terrific.
Weather wave, point where?
Heaven and Hell, this may stick!
Brick upon the bare.
Red the rampant real? Rind? Rhyme.
Tornados in time.
Wind above the city, chime.
Tequila, thy lime.
Yak upon the mountain;
Which way doth trouble lurk?
Rubbish, fill the garbage bin!
If you work, you shirk!
Psyche, soul tormented;
This place sure stinks of doom!
Lyre of love lamented!
O curse on pharaoh's tomb...
Bloom upon the tamarind?
Reality grinned.
Sin, thy light the whole world pinned!
Challengers a-chinned...
Roll that boulder, vagrant king!
Silver is thy sting!
Drenched upon but undying!
Rail about the ring!
Levels sinking in the pool?
Silent lies the spool.
O young people, keep it cool?
Flayed dismayed, fair fool...
Ghoul, thy magic terrible;
Golem, shall we ride?
Room within the brazen bull?
Bailiff, how you tried...
Sam was cleared of all charges
Anita’s family was shocked
Audible gasps filled the court room
Someone began shouting and was led out by the bailiff
Mr. Tweed has been cleared of all charges,
The jury has found him not guilty.
Someone began to sob.
Anita’s family sat motionless, in horror.
They wanted to blame someone for her murder.
Sam was the likely culprit, he had beat her, hadn’t he?
They began planning their revenge. They would kill him.
They were enraged, indignant, and incorrect.
With a roof over your head,
A key to your door
Fire in the grate
Clippie rugs on the floor
The countryside to roam
A dog by his side
A boy may be poor but
He’s still got h!is pride.
Another spring approaches
Weather more and more mild
Memories rush back from
When I was a child
More than fifty years ago
My dad used to say
Nights were drawing out by
A cock stride a day.
A man of the land once of
The shire drawn plough
Earning his weekly pittance
By the sweat of his brow.
A man of his time when
Most of the working nation
Were condemned to poverty
And blatant exploitation
My mam and dad never
Ever had a lot
But seemed so happy
With what little they’d got
And I had a childhood rich
In everything but wealth
Loved and wanted and
Blessed with good health.
Times have changed and today,
Poor materially have much more,
But the bailiff does at times seem
Never far from a worker’s door,
And I never thought I’d see the day
When a worker gave thanks
For the charity donations
From now essential food banks.
Mithering - North England dialect - worrying , complaining, countering
He'll leave the baubles in the loft this year;
he so dislikes those sparkly plastic trees,
and real ones these days are far too dear.
The cost of heating home has put a squeeze
on almost everything that's fun, I fear.
He'll send some greetings texts, no Christmas card;
now that he's seen the cost of postage stamps,
using the pub's free wifi in their yard.
A happy holiday to all, love gramps!
He's worked his life; it shouldn't be this hard.
He'll walk to do his Christmas shop through snow;
not at the store but at the free food bank;
the bailiff took his car some months ago;
rising interest, he has that to thank!
A very Merry Christmas Ho Ho Ho!
He'll watch a little telly on the day;
a slice of bread, cold chicken soup from can,
to keep the dreaded hunger pangs at bay;
this hero veteran, this old guardsman.
And in the cold, alone, he'll fade away.
The beating of the Mill,
we hear it down the hill.
It is the town's heartbeat.
No children on the street
already in the shop
to labor till they drop.
Sold to the upper class;
the mother needs the brass.
The father on the beer;
not working since last year.
The bosses own their soul,
their houses, so they toll;
boy, sister, young as four
stay bailiff from the door.
They; hardly off the teat,
meet quotas, or get beat.
Most dying all too young
from ailment of the lung
or bodies ripped apart.
No healthcare; caring heart
so poorer lose their health
while richer gain more wealth
on broken bodies, pain.
The workers take the strain.
Not distant, in the past
but present, and to last.
You think that things have changed,
you all must be deranged;
The Beating of the Mill
is calling us all still!
The Sweat Shop Poetry Contest placed 5th
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Date wrote: 15th February 2022
Hapsburg bailiff Gessler’s hollow kow-tow;
was a farce William Tell would disavow.
A hat on a pole! I'll never bow.
Such disregard tagged him, non-compliant
in a poem told by William Bryant -
William Tell was the one most defiant.
His snub of the snob gave reason to dread
Tell must shoot an apple from his son’s head.
"Now off to prison!" Boss Gessler then said.
Mountain man in prison swallowed his doubt
dreaming of freedom's well-followed route.
Swiss subjection he would soon hollow out.
January 15, 2021
inspired by William Cullen Bryant's poem, William Tell,
Legendary hero of Swiss independence.
I’m here I’m there I’m everywhere
But I cannot be seen
I’m the bailiff when your skint
The traffic warden with pencil in hand
The ex-girlfriend with a new man
That cough, that ache
I’m the empty shelf in the supermarket
The que in the doctors surgery
I’m even on your news feed
I’m that bad smell that will not go away
My friends are fear and selfishness
I’m sure you will meet
I’m a Politicians promises
The good news I’m not staying
Its just a flying visit
But I might just come back next year
As covid-20
All my love covid-19
Knock, knock who is it,
The bill collector is at the door
He keeps on coming back for more
Knock, knock I can't open the door
He keeps on threatening me even more
Knock, knock I can't take this anymore
The bill collector keeps knocking at the door
Knock, knock go away
Why do you choose to stay
It's not like I don't want to pay
I just haven't much to give a way
I don't wish to delay, I want to repay
Why can't you wait till payday
Knock, knock the Bailiffs at the door
He keeps on banging down the door
I can't take this harassment anymore
It's like he provoking war
Knock,knock I need to escape through the back door
Before we get into an argumentative war
Whereby I am on the floor
Asking him not to harass me anymore
Knock, Knock who is it ,the Bailiffs at the door
I wont knock you to the floor
But I will be back for more.
The earth has been drowned by the fiend
Deprived from its undergrowth
Stripped from the edible seed
Killed to the last in loath
By the toll of the sully
Millions have tasted the loganberry
But neither can you nor I
Neither go around the mulberry
Nor savoured what it bore
By the toll of the sully
The derrick has ruined us all
And the motors breathed venomous gas
The colour of life drained out of sight
The tone of silence now perished for the mortal
By the toll of the sully
The languish fossil, now a bailiff
The wrapper now an agitate
The weaklings now warlords
Littering around bunkum bombs
By the toll of the sully
The beings to consult for this
Our chart of lineage
Who sprawled obsessed with greed
Keeping the globe busy at risk
By the toll of the sully
The distinguished judge sat on the bench for many years.
He was highly esteemed, loved by the community and his peers.
The challenge of the law since a young attorney was his passion.
For those washed up on perilous shoals he had great compassion.
An unpretentious county judge was all he ever aspired to be,
Upholding his solemn oath to serve the people of the community.
Dispensing justice fairly to the rich and penniless as well,
Interpreting the Constitution as he saw it and in this he did excel.
He cautioned youngsters of the challenging life that lay ahead,
And to learn from mistakes and pursue productive lives instead.
His long-time and faithful bailiff saw to his every need,
Taking care of all details no matter how small the deed.
Blind justice was a vision in his mind as he balanced the scale.
You see, the judge was legally blind, working with the aid of Braille!
Entry for Carolyn Devonshire's "Justice" Contest
Courts fine you STEALS YOUR MONEY!
Police stop you STEALS YOUR MONEY!
Council taxes you STEALS YOUR MONEY!
Government taxes you again STEALS YOUR MONEY!
Parking attendants fine you STEALS YOUR MONEY!
Private car parks add extra charges STEALS YOUR MONEY!
The banks raise interest STEALS YOUR MONEY!
A bailiff comes to your home STEALS YOUR MONEY!
The royals are rich STEALS YOUR MONEY!
A private company uses tricks STEALS YOUR MONEY!
Energy companies over charge STEALS YOUR MONEY!
The water company charges you for water STEALS YOUR MONEY!
Loan companies use small print STEALS YOUR MONEY!
Ever wonder why you can't afford to eat? Look at who STEALS YOUR MONEY!
Hey little piggy who's your real master?
You can't catch me my minds faster!
Just obey what they taught and no real thinking
The peoples rights are surly shrinking.
You fail to see the bigger plan
With fines and illegal arrests, just because you can.
You've become money grabbing whores
No better than a bailiff, kicking in peoples doors.
Protect and serve as gone with the wind
Your oath has been binned.
You don't even listen to your laws
You think its for some higher cause.
Its no longer about protecting the people
You're not a Sheppard, just another sheeple.
We can't walk the streets without being harassed
You think we have to tell "just because you asked".
It's not my job to be nice and respectful to you
I refuse! Until you stop working for the few.
It's time you did something that will matter to all
Arrest the elite and make Babylon fall.
To stop these people you have the power
We'll stand with you, so you never cower.
It's time you learned what's wrong and what's right
Only an unjust system the people would fight.
A system that works for only those at the top
It needs to change, the Banksters you need to stop.
Imprisoned patched in pumpkin parachute,
Detained up-high by paper-airplane trails;
Vines draw a line through dirt urging dispute,
Between emotions locked in playground jails;
An epic battle waged of see-sawed thoughts,
Hacked anger versus calm forgiving tone;
Where punches land upon still tender spots,
From childish rants this bailiff claims as own;
Yet resolution now demands a shift,
As sonnets do when octaves run in place ;
I’m neither swing-set nor a schizoid miffed,
But grown-adult per hair seen on my face -
Aware, at last, a patient mind unlocks,
An end to quicksand fights inside a box
10/6/2016
Submitted for: 'Sandbox' Contest
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