For National Poetry Day: The Brothers Corbyn - An Historical Tribute In Verse

They lived at Yew Tree Manor

An aristocratic name

So the Yew Tree Guesthouse

It became

David and Naomi 

Jeremy and Piers

Did bed and breakfast

For years and years

Bohemian and radical

Naomi rode a scooter

And used old Guardians

As draft excluders

Piers became an expert

In meteorology

But the world of politics 

Called him and Jeremy

In the Labour Party

Jeremy had sympathy

For his brother, his friend Tariq

And other members of the IMG

That’s the International Marxist Group

By the way

Jeremy was never a member

Or so they say

Jeremy became an MP

For North Islington in London

Waitroses. Marxists.

They have an abundance

Piers bet against

The Met Office. His predictions

Were sometimes accurate

Sometimes fiction

Skipping ahead: Now

Jeremy’s Labour leader

“Theresa May?” He snorts

“I will defeat her.” 

Climate change, meanwhile

Piers denies

All contra-indications

Are mistakes or lies

Believers

They were brought up believing

Evidence and proof

Are always deceiving 

So Piers and Jeremy

Together

Still battle the class enemy

One predicts the weather

One predicts the future

One has a beard

And that would be Jeremy

These days. Not Piers

Copyright Scar Quilse 2016. All rights reserved

The Zetlandic Muse #1: Beardopolis

Beardopolis

Welcome to Shetland, land of the beard

Where weak jawlines are made to disappear

And chins, quadruple down to double

Sprout wispy, weedy down, or fearsome stubble

The kind that leaves a rash or even scars

The casual  kisser, or removes the paint from cars

Should face and body work collide 

Some small refreshment having been imbibed

It can take many months, or even years

To grow a quite convincing Viking beard

And would-be Norsemen, filled with fear and doubt

Their naked chins refusing to sprout

Resort to desperate measures, pills and ointments

To counter any hairless disappointment 

Hormone supplements, consumed in quantities

So vast, they've opened special pharmacies

Male pattern baldness, fought by men down south

Means nothing here. It's whiskers round the mouth

Which mark the man of honour, poise and strength

No wonder here we'll go to any length

Those bristles to obtain

We'll suffer any pain

Abrasion with sandpaper will

Used with a Black and Decker drill

Stimulate, I'm told those Viking follicles

It's a fact, historical, absolute and true

It worked for me. I pray it works for you