Ode to Jeremy Hunt

( a rather silly ode, composed this morning)

Oh Jeremy Hunt, I'll be rather blunt
you really are a complete Tory c***t
it is not junior doctors that are a threat to patients
the true danger lies with you and your friends
cutting funds and asset stripping, tearing apart our beloved NHS
because your conning us, letting this essential service to be broken
carving it up, allowing its put upon workers to carry on choking
your laugh is like bad medicine, poison for our soul
you refuse to  face our questions, your simply out of control
you continue to use damaging words against health professionals
won't meet  demands, reach out and find some concessions
but we will keep pleading for more consistency 
as we rage and rally against your toxicity
cos Jeremy Hunt, you really are a stupid runt
I hope the people of this land  give you a shunt.

'I'm turning into an anarchist' - Benjamin Zephaniah

Writer and poet Benjamin Zepaniah, who I've  always considered one of the good guys, Anarchist or not  he always speaks from the heart, and like George Orwell, the more he understands and continues to inspire, as he rejects a society that rejects people, and dehumanises along the way, I  will agree with him, in the sense that those that those against mutli-culturalism here In Britain, are truly the most anti-British among us.
Long may he help us and inspire, with his revolutionary attitudes and passion and long continue being a  poet of the people, his words nurturing people from all walks of life . We need men like this, in days like these, I for one am grateful for his attitudes and beliefs, his words. He is certainly not mellowing  with age, respect to him always, long may he release his inner rage.

This is Syria

This is Syria, this poem bears witness,
to all that suffer upon it's land,
muslims,Shiites, Druze, Kurds,
Circassion, Sunni, Ismaili,
Alawites, Mershdis, Sufi, Christian,
brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, 
sons and daughters,sharing a common burden, 
all in need of our tears, and deepest sympathy.
deliverance from both Assad and Isis
                                 
Syria is their land, their shared identity,
whose people carry a fierce pride,
in ancient traditions and culture,
their history and tales, now lost in misery,
because the scent of their homeland,
is stained now with  tears and blood,
souls daily carried on voyages of weariness.

Not all these people are extremists,
neither should we call then terrorists    
these are labels given by the the media,
that feeds us daily with fear and hate,
do you seek the truth, or do you look away?
turn your backs, forget their situation?
disregard these compromised states of existence,
as the smell of death encases their land.

Do we carry on walking, with our eyes shut,
pass the tragedy and misery of their struggle,
do we allow these proud spirits to be subdued,
as they plead  for their shared pain to end,
as their world implodes, and darkness engulfs,
let us deliver to them peaceful solutions,
no more bombs  allowed to fall on innocents,
let jasmines soft sweetness bloom again,
to shower this land with everlasting peace.

                                                            
                                                



    

               


               

100th Anniversary of the Murder of Joe Hill ( 7/10/1875-15/11/15)

I have written of the great Joe Hill before, he is a great inspiration, so on the centenary of his judicial execution, it gives me the opportunity to write about him once more.
Swedish born ( his actual name was  Joel Emmanuel Haggland ), he emigrated  to New York aged 23, with his brother Paul, after the death of his parents, spending his time as a wandering itinerant and musical troubadour, engaging in the struggles of his time, hopping from one freight train to the next, working as a labourer, washer of dishes, sweeper of floors, moving cargo on docks, picking crops and working in construction. He was later to adopt the name Joe Hill after being blacklisted after trying to start  a union in Chicago,  he was to become a legend in in his own lifetime because of his actions and deeds.
He also wrote satirical  songs to be sung by the people, songs about struggles that he was actively engaged in, using  his songs as weapons  in the class war that he was engaged in such as  There is Power in the Union, The Preacher and the Slave and The Rebel Girl along with hundreds more . He also became a senior organiser of the Industrial Workers of the World (the IWW) most commonly known as the wobblies . His aim along with hundreds  of other fellow workers and revolutionaries was to emancipate the working classes, creating unity and solidarity under one big union.
He would go to Mexico at the time of the revolution in 1911, fighting with his comrades under a red flag like the true rebel that he was. trying to overthrow the dictator Porfirio Diaz. Next stop onto San Diego in 1912 to support fellow workers protesting against police banning of street meetings. Then onto British Colombia helping organise a national construction strike,  then on to San Pedro to help dockworkers. This  would  lead to the first recorded encounter with the police who arrested him on the charge of vagrancy.
He would inspire many, his fellow workers and comrades, but to the bosses saw him as  someone to be feared, someone they considered dangerous, he was in their eyes a marked man.
On the evening of 10th January 1914 in Utah  he sought medical treatment for gunshot wounds, he claimed they had been inflicted upon him after quarrel with a man over a woman, and refused to elaborate anymore, earlier that evening in another part of town, a grocer and his son had been shot and killed. One of the assailants was wounded, so Hill's injury  implicated  him in the incident. Yet despite the uncertainty of witnesses, no one coming forward to identify him as one of the assailants at the scene of the crime no blood of Hills found at the scene a local jury was convinced of his guilt. No physical  evidence linking him to the murder he was accused of.
He was scheduled to be shot by firing squad,  this  caused outrage across the world.  an international campaign to exonerate him was launched, from Britain to other European countries and even President Woodrow Wilson calling for a retrial.  Those looking at the case eventually declared its willingness to hear testimony from the woman's husband, but Hill loyally  refused to identify his alleged assailant in case it damaged the reputation of the lady involved.
Sadly the eventual day came and he was executed and shot down by firing squad on this day 19th November 1915. 
Whilst waiting his execution he wrote the following words which were later turned into song :-

My will is easy to decide
for I have nothing to divide
My kin don't need to weep and moan
Moss does not cling to a rolling stone
My body?  oh, If I could choose
I would to ashes it reduce
And let the merry breeze blow
My dust to where some flowers grow
Perhaps some fading flower then
Would soon grow up and grow green again
This is my last and final will
Good luck to all of you, Joe Hill

Among his  final words were  " Don't mourn , organise "

and just before he was assassinated  in reply  to a question if he had anything further to say he answered "Fire" unfortunately they did.

Up to 30,000 people would attend his funeral, he was subsequently cremated and his ashes divided into 600 envelopes, that were sent to IWW branches across the globe.

Scenes of Joe Hill's funeral cortege

He would become  a martyr for the Labour Movement across the world, who is forever remembered today and tomorrow because he planted a seed upon the earth  that still makes the parasites shake,  in every place where people organise together  his legacy still spins, his power still resonates, as we remember that " an injury to one is an injury to all."
You can't  kill the spirit of Joe Hill,  this spirit lives on in his songs and in the deeds of men and women across the globe who carries his message  forward, in unity and  strength, in solidarity forever.

Paul Robeson sings the song  Joe Hill

Joe Hill's Preacher and the Slave as sung by Utah Philips

Link to last years with poem dedicated to him, and links to two other posts here :-

http://teifidancer-teifidancer.blogspot.co.uk/2014/11/joe-hill-7101879-191115-injury-to-
one.html

Some useful links :-

IWW Cymru/Wales

https://www.facebook.com/walesiww/

British and Irish region of the IWW

https://iww.org.uk

USA Branch

http://www.iww.org


https://www.iww.org

The late great Tony Benn on the Middle East

The late great Tony Benn, spot on as usual , check out the following video where he talks about arms sales to the middle east, make you think.
It should be noted that serving in Egypt during Britain's colonial days he witnessed the cruel effects of the British Empire. The speech  I post below that he delivered to the house of commons in November 1992 sadly still has so much relevance to us today. At the moment the profiteers of  pain and sorrow, the arms manufacturers are seeing their deadly trade boom. 
It should also be noted that ISIS  strength in power arose after the destruction of Iraq and Syria, largely funded by selling oil on the black market and by using weapons left by Americans in the Iraq war, and then in Syria used to fight Bashar al- assad.
I do not understand how more violence will help the situation, but sadly the ones clamouring for war seem to have the loudest voices at the  moment.We should not succumb to fear being stirred up at moment  but must keep pushing for peaceful solutions to the massive problems we are currently facing. 

Tony Benn - Arms sales to Iraq

What Jeremy Corbyn actually said about the shoot to kill policy

This is what Jeremy Corbyn actually said about the shoot to kill policy regarding a terrorist situation,that he has now been forced to accept,  but don't expect to read it in the right wing corporate mainstream media.

- " We live in dark and dangerous times and the shoot-to-kill-policy is specifically aimed at terrorists in a hostage situation, is the right policy given the emergency situation that members of the special services will find themselves in" he said .
" It is the right thing to do in those circumstances and  we have given that power to those responsible to make that decision."

Corbyn has also long been opposed to a wider military campaign and said this morning that French strikes would "probably not" make a difference. Once again only saying what a lot of people genuinely feel. Do we really  feel it necessary to spread more danger  that could end up highly counterproductive. I have little sympathy for Hilary Benn, and other Labour dinosaurs rushing out to condemn.  loved his father,  but have the utmost respect for straight talking Jeremy Corbyn holding on to his principles along with his friends at Stop the War.
Are we not allowed to question things anymore?
Let us not forget that the last time that guns and high adrenaline got together in London, an innocent Brazilian electrician named  Jean Charles De Menzies was executed in cold blood in error. 
Of  course we must continue to be on guard in the aftermath of the Paris terror attack and carry on opposing the cycle of war, terror and racism, not forgetting either that it was Western interventions in the Middle East that have been partially responsible for many  terrorist attacks taking place.

Confession

I admit I suffer from depression, anxiety too,
but if you bumped into me in the street, 
could give you a misconception,
as I release my smiley face,
offer you a firm handshake,
as the weight of the world,
brings me down.

A constant war inside myself,
mind in constant rearrangement,
feelings lift from  time to time,
clouds depart, to provide glimmers of hope,
from the darkest of nights,
to bright days awakening.

I chase dreams, vapors of positivity,
never feel that I'm losing the fight,
it might be hard, but often I win,
find some dignity stored, some self respect,
but depression can be such a lonely thing,
often grateful for the friends who have called.

I've got better at coping nowadays,
but should avoid the internet and the daily news,
guess that's just a pattern of my behaviour,
sit in  the library within the confines of knowledge,
found in moments of waking, this is my confession.