Category Archives: Contemporary Issues

Poems about issues of the present day

If Typists Were Poets

If Typists Were Poets

[Reissued for National Poetry Day 2019]

If typists were poets what would be the effect?
Not a single ‘typo’ would you ever detect
The spelling and syntax all perfect would be
And correct punctuation I am sure you would see

But there’s more to a poem than neatly typed letters
If its words are intended to make us feel better
The emotions expressed or the ideas portrayed
Are greater than ciphers however displayed

So let’s never forget when to verse we resort
Lack of good grammar should not ever thwart
Our attempts to convey what comes from our heart
Our stumbling attempts to turn words into art

So if you aspire to be poet or a bard
Of course you will find it is often quite hard
To ensure that your words cause no great confusion
Or your readers bemuse by some obscure allusion

So as you reach for that keyboard have the spell-check to hand
And with your ideas your world will expand
But be careful to type well and present a clear case
And even take care as you choose a typeface

Ken Fisher

 

The Tyranny of the Majority

The Tyranny of the Majority*

 

The tyranny of the majority is the cause of all this woe
Almost equal numbers can turn a friend into foe
Because the larger figure dictates how we must run
Yet a bare majority is hardly everyone

If the rule of a majority is by which we must abide
And by the bigger total on the issue we decide
Then no matter how small the extra votes may be
The disappointed losers still have no valid plea

But the problem then is that it fosters discontent
The significant minority might very well dissent
The referendum winners will expect their will be done
But then the losers find their aspirations overrun

In such a plight our nation seems to wallow
No-one yet knows what from this will follow
Any consensus is very hard to discover
Who from this log-jam will help us to recover?

Politician and judges and all the good and great
Even the Sovereign dragged in to decide our fate
Perhaps all of this is down to our creaky constitution
Being un-written – as they say – perhaps it’s just illusion

But we can’t go on forever neither in nor out
Our friends in Europe wonder what its all about
We need to make our minds up and decide which way to go
Perhaps the tyranny of the majority we simply have to thole

Ken Fisher

*John Stuart Mill in On Liberty (1859) argues for freedom of speech
and argues against “the tyranny of the majority”

 

Climate Change

Climate Change

This is the challenge now we face
Suddenly it’s become a race
Against passing time and rising tide
The threat can no longer be denied

Young folks rise up in alarm
‘Gainst those who downplay the harm
Polar ice continues to melt
Effects around the world are felt

Island strands buffeted by tempests
Little defence against such impacts
Hurricanes wreak devastation
Carnage heaped upon these nations

Some delight in unaccustomed sunshine
But scorching heat is not benign
Forests burn ‘neath rays incessant
While we remain quite acquiescent

But perhaps some sign of hope we can discern
As in loud protest we hear concern
Expressed by thousands on parade
As their urgent warning is relayed

Ken Fisher

Niceness is a Thin Veneer

Niceness is a Thin Veneer to give the Impression of Civilisation

I wonder if you agree that niceness can be  just a thin veneer
Which we apply to our persona so that others think well of us?
But many consider the word nice to be really meaningless
Simply anodyne, not likely to provoke dissent or offence

And yet I suppose most of us would like to be considered nice
That is agreeable, pleasant, good-natured, congenial, friendly
Because few of us make it our avowed intent to be the opposite
Nasty, spiteful, argumentative, arrogant, hateful, repulsive

But if our niceness is only a thin veneer, sprayed on for effect
Then it seems to suggest that we are not always good guys
Yet we feel obliged to display qualities that would meet approval
Pressure is forcing us to be hypocrites, needing public praise

Apparently the social media has shown the propensity
For people to be anything but nice to others
On-line harassment is on the rise, computer rage rampant
The uncontrolled release of these emotions is damaging to health

So perhaps we need to recall that aphorism “It’s nice to be nice”
But we don’t need to sacrifice our honesty, or deny the truth
We simply have to calmly accept the reality of life
Stand our ground but be civil in all our dealings

Ken Fisher

 

The expression Niceness is a thin Veneer ………
Is a quote from journalist India Knight in the Sunday Times
Magazine 19 March 2017

Don’t Reheat the Porridge

Don’t Reheat the Porridge

I don’t know if this is sound culinary advice
Should you heat up your cold porridge twice?
Perhaps this guidance is not about food
But about our lives when we try to do good

Cold porridge is something quite unappetizing
It’s gone off the boil so it is not surprising
That like salt which seems to have lost its savour
This pudding is quite bereft of good flavour

Stale porridge might be just a metaphor
For things we once loved but now seem to abhor
The lost joy from a broken relationship
But no chance to rekindle companionship

Stale porridge may bear some resemblance to
Some passion or cause we no longer pursue
But now all our zeal simply withered away
No light shining forth at the break of each day

Stale porridge is like a thought our hearts once excited
But has lost all its power to make us delighted
No effort the magic can rejuvenate
Or our languid spirits can motivate

So stale porridge is best left quite unattended
No further energy on its substance expended
Sometimes food must simply be cast in the bin
And a new recipe for our life we ought to begin

Ken Fisher

Crystal Clear

Crystal Clear

 

Crystal clear is a term sometimes used by politicians
When they are justifying some proposition they have made
Claiming that there never was any doubt or confusion
About their intentions. In reality it was totally opaque

Crystal clear means completely transparent and unclouded
And so we are not sure if the politicians are implying
That we suffer from blindness or at least myopia
Or we lack the understanding to catch their vision of reality

Yet one wonders how this can be if crystal clear means
Unambiguous, easily understood, unequivocal?
Perhaps it is a different perception of clarity
Which is said to be the quality of being definite or certain

Mind you I don’t think politicians enjoy a monopoly
Of claiming clarity while promoting obfuscation
Perhaps also academic writers, social commentators
And critics of the arts, music, literature and dance

And of course don’t forget  the scientists who lambast us almost daily with
The latest ‘research findings’ intended to clarify our thinking
Many of these new pronouncements are anything but clear
To the laity. Confusion made worse by opposing findings soon to follow!

So what to do about the so-called Crystal Clear concept?

Simply we may be prepared to give the pundits a hearing
But we should not turn our living into a knee-jerk reaction
To each and every pronouncement thrust before us
The reality is that only a crystal is that clear – and even
They can sometimes be flawed with a range of defects

Ken Fisher

ShrinkFlation

ShrinkFlation

You may not have noticed a quite subtle change
Which at first sight you reckon to be somewhat strange
Supermarket items have been subject to shrink
Which somehow prompts me into doublethink

Because as well as this hidden shrinkage in size
At the same time I witness prices that rise
This certainly causes some consternation
A phenomenon now wellknown as shrinkflation

Of course the sellers hope that we will not notice
Otherwise it would surely result in a protest
But because the changes are not easily perceived
By this sleight of hand we are duped and deceived

By the twin tactics of giving less in the packet
While upping the price, a duplicitous racket
The makers extract even more from our purse
Without any intention us to reimburse

Despite this assault on the public at large
Less goods provided, yet increasing the  charge
For our money ‘great value is still guaranteed’
And from too heavy packages we are relieved!

Well I suppose in the end we have little choice
A boycott best way to have a clear voice
Thus express our response to the trick of shrinkflation
Which by stealth has encroached on the whole British nation

Ken Fisher

I’m Absolutely Fine

I’m Absolutely Fine

When you’re feeling down
Your brow wears a frown
And you really just need to whine
You put on a brave face
Although you want to grimace
And say I’m absolutely fine

From the pressures of life
All its troubles and strife
When there’s never quite enough time
There is too much to do
And it’s all down to you
But still I’m absolutely fine

When it seems no-one cares
And you’re nearly in tears
You might even need to resign
But you just soldier on
When the others have gone
‘Cos your still absolutely fine

Perhaps you must learn
That the peace that you yearn
Which all your hopes will enshrine
You can only attain
When you learn to complain
Saying I am NOT absolutely fine!

Ken Fisher

Sunday Morning

Sunday Morning

 

‘Thus, on the day o’ solemn things, The bell that in the steeple swings To fauld a scaittered faim’ly rings Its walcome screed; An’ just a wee thing nearer brings The quick an’ deid.’

These words from A Lowden Sabbath Morn – R L Stevenson

A long way we have travelled from these epic verses
The strictures of habit and belief cast readily aside
Church bells conveniently muted, sleep left undisturbed
The call to prayer a distant wistful echo in our ears

No longer do we acknowledge preachers’ admonitions
Or the authority of Sessions or Assemblies
Are we on a hand-cart to hell?
Rather than a golden chariot to paradise

But do we care? What of our inexorable progress
From the quick to the dead?  Has fear gone with belief?
Our confident exterior shows no sign of terror
And we fill our secular Sundays with worldly pleasures

And yet, and yet………..
Is there not still  some emptiness in our soul
Amidst the clamour of play and pleasure
Turn down the volume and we may yet hear
The whisper of that Still Small Voice

Ken Fisher

Unwillingly to School [August 2019]

Unwillingly to School 

 

“And creeping like a snail unwillingly to school”
[The Seven Ages of Man]
Shakespeare – As You Like It

Spare a thought for our kids today
As once more they join the fray
Wave adieu to days of freedom
As to learning they are ransomed

Knuckle down to discipline
To instruction they must listen
Co-operate with earnest teachers
Help to build a brighter future

Parents too will find relief
Saves them from a lot of grief
As they despatch their young offspring
Called to classes as bells ring

All designed minds to expand
The curriculum thus duly planned
Presented with unending tasks
Where will it lead? Our pupils ask

Who says all this is democratic
Our elders remain quite emphatic
On opening day it’s back you go!
The reason why you need not know

Ken Fisher

The Redoubtable Ms Clarke

The Redoubtable Ms Clarke

 

They said at the start “It’s a position of trust”
And accuracy is an absolute ‘must’
Ms Clarke was aware of the need for discretion
They would not tolerate any transgression

Despite these quite rigorous stipulations
Perhaps even because she liked tight regulations
Ms Clarke was happy to work for that firm
And her acceptance of all she would gladly affirm

Her duties covered a significant range
Receipts and payments, often foreign exchange
Processing documents, checking the prices
Extensive use of computer devices

Payroll and wages presented no problems
Her awareness of tax was really quite awesome
Marginal costing, credit control, even VAT
To Ms Clarke a cinch, no trouble with that

Trial balance, profit and loss, bank reconciliation
All processed without the slightest vexation
The final accounts from these easily prepared
Her bosses, amazed, just stood there and stared!

Thus Ms Clarke was well on the way to a godlike status
As master of the whole admin apparatus
But then it became something of a surprise
To find in the ointment there was a small fly

For actual money handling there was little call
But in this obscure corner began Ms Clarke’s fall
Most firms still have need of some petty cash
And with that fund employees sometimes get rash

The sums of money are merely a trickle
But nonetheless one might get into a pickle
The total fund is called an imprest
But these small amounts can herald distress

Ms Clarke somehow succumbed to temptation
Perhaps she thought she deserved compensation
Anyway by a relentless process of syphoning off
From her worthy employer she performed a rip-off

Gradually over many months and years
A burgeoning total would disappear
But because the account was still called ‘petty’
Not large paper, more like confetti

But one day when Ms Clarke went off on vacation
The auditors expressed a little vexation
About lack of clarity in Ms Clarke’s account
Which spawned in their mind some significant doubt

So while Ms Clarke basked in the sunshine of foreign climes
It became clear she had perpetrated exorbitant crimes
Her petty fraud had resulted in a vast accumulation
Exposed by this somewhat belated examination

On return Ms Clarke became the subject of an inquisition
The result of which, an unwilling admission
That she had helped herself to what she believed she was due
To label her as a thief was not really true

But I am afraid the majesty of the law extended its arm
Claiming that to condone fraud would result in great harm
Ms Clarke was reminded of her position of trust
Where not only accuracy but integrity was clearly a must

Poor Ms Clarke found her freedom somewhat restricted
As of fraud our hero was duly convicted
The law was thus applied in appropriate measure
Detained for some years at Her Majesty’s pleasure

Ken Fisher

Home Again

Home Again

 

Click goes the key in the lock
A gentle push to gain re-entry
Home’s blessed sanctuary

It’s not that we didn’t have a good time
But somehow it’s comforting to return to base
With all its every day familiarity

Travel broadens the mind they say
And without doubt it forces our eyes open
But unless you venture far
Perhaps little dilation of the eyes
Or expansion of the intellect

Home, the arena of domestic life
Of events quotidian and surprising
Moments of joy and despair
Acted out within its walls

But no matter how exiting
Our extra-mural exploits
We still hanker for home
Where we can be ourself

So that key inserted in the lock
That crossing of the threshold once again
Brings relief for a journey now completed
Normality restored once more

Ken Fisher