Farage Rhymes with Garage 

I feel the time has come for me to publicly disparage
The smug obnoxious Xenophobe Whose surname rhymes with garage

His out and out rejection of immigration, blacks and Hanukkah
Seems to me to be an irony
Given the pronunciation of his moniker!

Farage has rather a Frankish twang
A certain je ne sais quoi!
So how can a man with such obvious French ancestry 
Be so quick to bar?!

I’ve concluded he’s a masochist,
His campaign has left him jobless
He turned up at his office, Friday
And to the lot said “cobblers!”

He’s a man I find so easy to hate
Yet many rally to him
But while the snake may have fooled them
I personally see right through him.

His thin-veiled threats of anarchy 
And Anglo-ruled apartheid
Are not a threat but promises
To whitewash all of England’s past
And make us Dulux White!

But I’m Irish, see. (Well, my grandma was!)
And my name has Norman virtue
And my Grandad’s name’s from Viking times
So where do I return to??!

Do I fly to Cork to find a life
In Ireland’s southernmost town,
Or sail to Normandy or in fact
To Denmark settle down.

There’s no such thing as English
We’re a multicultural nation!
Anglo (French) and Saxon (German) is hardly pure breeding
But these people want to rewrite the books 
Historians will be reading.

Without the Normans
Would an Englishman’s home
His castle still remain?
And without Vikings would we be
The mariners we became?

The Romans built our towns and roads
But what have they ever done for us?!
The Irish built the railway lines 
So you don’t have to take the bus!

The Windies brought us colour
With their music, style and vision
Imagine the long Winter of discontent 
Without the reggae rhythm

The 70’s opened doors to India
And business Pakistani
Well, what would be the lads night out
Without a Biryani?!

As Berlin’s wall was taken down
I wept a tear of triumph
No longer will we leave in fear 
Of those prehistoric giants 

Of xenophobia, greed and envy 
Even South Africa followed suit,
But now arise a generation 
Who gives the lot the boot!

Take a long look at your English lives 
As you dine at Swedish tables 
Watching Japanese TV’s
Drive your German car to work upon 
A hundred foreign labels!

Each wave that came has made this home 
And starting at the bottom 
Has put to shame our lazy lives 
By remembering what we’ve forgotten

Integrity comes from deep within 
From earning honest bread
From working till you are worn out
And collapsing in your bed

No restless sleep for he who works
And earns his daily crust 
But on his efforts he can lean
And on his hands he’ll trust.

The Tories stole your benefits 
They questioned if you’re able
They forced the pound to be so strong 
You struggled to lay your table

But Farage blamed all the immigrants 
Those nasty foreign scum
He said they stole your nationhood
And you believed his lying tongue.

He set the fuse and waited for
The shit to hit the fan,
And now the news,
He’s buggered off!
What a spineless little man!

P J Deakin 2016©

Nether Field

Not the Bakers field 
Or the town of Carl
Not the Gelding misspelled 
Nor Loud ham or ley of Lambs  
Not the Calver Town or the Red clay cliff

But… the nether field
You know? The lower one,
The one that floods!
The one where all the trains go to unload all their pile of goods

No cosy nook of Joyce and Bert 
Or Southerly minster well 
No ford placed west of Bridge for me
Nor Thorpe of Gun to tell…

But a village built fast 
Industrial revolution 
When the industry went
It just left wild confusion

Such a maelstrom of people 
From diverse situation 
Makes for such embittered folks 
In dark times of inflation

Single parents, congregate 
Natter over garden wall
Refugees seek solace here
Maybe it is peaceful after all!

Six o’clock the bus stop’s full 
Of lipstick, heels and pecs
Who leave behind this no hope town 
And it’s Mapperley rejects

Charlie Red potent up on top floor
Of the old faithful green number 20
Their LBD’s glitzy as they head off to Ritzy
To dance and drink MD2020

Left behind, Beggars, drunks and layabouts
And kids who want to play about
Behind the old community centre
And boys like me who still climb trees 
In search of some adventure.

Window cleaner cases houses
To know which ones to rob
Dole queue stretches round the block 
Cos no one’s got a job

Towns of industry
Hubs of community
Left behind till Retail Park revived

So offspring of the factory girls 
Walk aisles with cheese and chives
And top up Pringles on the shelves 
Now that Morrisons has arrived.

And still the cries of drunken yells
Seep deep into the night
As fearless yob rolls up his sleeves 
For Friday’s Fight Night Fight

And as I close my eyes to hear 
Another drunken groan
I smile, 

Perfect it may never 
But Netherfield is my home

P J Deakin 2016 ©

How Do You Get off The Hamster Wheel?

Yesterday I received an email from an agency who have been looking at my skills and experience online and thought they had found a suitable position for me.

Contained within the email were the Pros and Cons the employer had listed for me.  One of their issues with me as a candidate was that I had too much experience!  

After years and years of applying for jobs where I was ill-qualified or inexperienced I now appear to have leap-frogged straight over the time window of the elusive, perfect balance of skills and experience into a realm of being over experienced but under qualified!!

To be fair, there’s not a lot I can do about that! Doing a job which “pays the bills” is not an optional extra when you’re married with two kids, it is a necessity! Yes, I want to do something more challenging but I don’t have the spare finance to retrain. And so for now, my fate and career satisfaction remains firmly in the hands of the HR Managers who, in a saturated job market can afford to be choosy and yet may choose an inexperienced graduate over a seasoned battler from the world of business.

The other reservation which most surprised me was that of my creativity. They stated that although my creativity is most evident in my blog, my poetry and in my spoken word performances; there was very little evidence of this in my commercial experience.

I am somewhat at a loss as to how to make a break into a creative writing/marketing career when I am doing all I can to hone my skills in my spare time (for no payment!) and yet have less opportunity in my current job!

I wonder how many of us are stuck in the 9-5 grind doing what is necessary to feed the mouths and keep the roof on, but aspiring to a vocation which is more fulfilling?!  Am I less of a candidate for a job because I have taken till 38 to discover what I want to do “when I grow up!”

How many of us, at 40 or 50 are still in the same field that we entered at 16, 18 or post university?  I would suggest that the life experience and cross-industry insight that an applicant of my age has gained is of equal worth of a degree, if not more.

The ability to mingle with diverse people, to relate as a consumer as well as a provider, to think on behalf of the business as regards cost and reputation and to lead as well as to follow are invaluable skills I have gained in my 17 years of working in the professional realm.

You may think, well why don’t you tell them then? Well I have replied to them, to be honest I don’t expect to change their mind but I can’t afford to be choosy about the jobs I take, unlike some new graduates and that loyalty and focus means I have much to bring to the table.

It is now up to the HR Manager in question to take a risk and offer a position to what would be a truly grateful candidate…