GODDEN, Salena
It Isn’t Punk to Seek Permission
Because if we had just one hour in your sun
We’d show you how it’s done
We’d show you how quickly things can turn around
Go on, give us one hour in your sun
And watch us bloom a field of colour
Look, look how our labours blossom
Look how we flourish with no sun, no heat or warmth
Because we know how to make love grow in the frost
In the hard dirt, in the winter underground
We make magic mushroom from shit
And spin gold from flakes of hard life
Our hunger is bears, our thirst we share
No boots, no armour, nothing but love drives this
And love is where this comes from and
Love is who this is for and love knows
We have nothing but each other to protect this
No gloves, bare hands, no certainties
And no money, no, never any money
So go on, I dare you, and I dare it
Give us a go on your sun and watch how we’d share it
Give us a paddle in your sunlight, a splash of shiny-shiny
One hour of the sun that is fixed on you and your privilege
For look how strong we are and how tall we can already stand
Without your sun, without your gold and
Without your permission.
Courage is a Muscle
Courage is the muscle
we use when we speak,
if we’re being talked over
and told we’re too weak.
And when we get weary
and when it gets tough,
it’s our united courage says
Enough is enough.
Courage is the muscle
we work night and day,
to get equal rights
to get equal pay.
Our blood is taxed
our blood is shame,
our courage unites us
for we all bleed the same.
Courage is the muscle
we flex when we must,
courage is the muscle
for truth and for trust.
Courage is the muscle
we use when we speak,
if we’re being walked over
and told we’re too weak.
And when we get weary
we march side by side,
100 years, we’re still marching
with courage and with pride.
The Saturday Shift
…..
He was in the pub every day;
we watched his sallow deterioration.
He was swollen-bellied and cold all summer,
a stale perfume of decay,
like a snappy threadbare dog.
But we were used to him, we loved him in our way,
and the fireplace is empty and strange
without him standing there now.
…..
Cervical Smear
Open your legs, poke your inner flower.
That’s it, lady. Did you bathe or shower
before you came to surgery today?
Looks like you should have, shall we say.
Now see these metal razor-sharp utensils,
As wide as sellotape around one hundred and fifty pencils.
Now, that’s to clamp you like a car jack.
Just relax, lie on your back.
Ooh, lady! You are a wide one.
Have you had children or just a good run?
Let me shove in this splintered wood,
ram it in carelessly, oh you are good.
Now breathe slowly while I insert
some broken glass covered in dirt,
and twist and spring catch it wide,
with fourteen mirrors and spoons inside.
There you go, slip back into your clothes.
I place my glasses on my nose.
You’ll have the results in a few days.
Try to use lube and not mayonnaise.
Now, what exactly seemed to be the trouble?
A little itch? That’s your shaving stubble.
Now, take the Pill until you’re forty.
See you then, if you’re not naughty.
Next patient please, nurse, there’s a sweet,
As I mop Vaseline off my plastic sheet
and sterilise my razor-sharp sticks of lead.
Hello lady, hello lady, hop on the bed.