Hammer and a Match

Chips all brown and crispy
Sizzling in the bubbling fat,
Fish wrapped in golden batter
Sitting in the cabinet, safe and hot.

Steam on window coldly beads
Queue shuffles slowly round the room
All served up by jolly lass
All heated up by natural gas.

Owner’s wife watched the cash
She counted in the tubs of lard,
Sacks of spuds, trays of fish.
She knew the cooker old,
She knew those pipes of lead.

Routine to descend cellar steps
Armed with hammer and a match.
Ran flame along those pipes of lead,
Watched the little blue flames
Leap for freedom in the dark.
Such glee was soon cut short
As wielded hammer struck its blows
Bashed shut each and every tiny hole.

She dare not breathe a word
To her upright husband, greasy.
Just took a hammer and a match
To keep those dancing blue flames
Back in their proper place.

Martin Delemare

3rd November 2010

Early Irene

Early Irene stands the market
Surrounded by vegetables; colour and shine.
Stands under the clock, tick, tock
Headscarf tied tight, apron just right
Feet snug in wellies, hands rough,
Tongue rougher to lash the lads
Keep them in their place, just so.

Spuds, cauliflower, carrots and swede,
Fennel, pepper, parsnip and dill
All bring money into the till.
Fingers turn black from dirt and from grime
Smile on face, muck with money is no crime.

Early Irene stands the market
Sells under the clock, tick, tock.

Martin Delemare

2nd August 2010

Blood Diamond

Sit now air-conditioned
Treated as a human being,
Far from the heat and the flies,
Far from the machete hack
Severed limbs, bloody stumps.

Intrigue of night exposed
Your henchmen’s secret visit
Beauty presented to beauty.

Sparkling symbol of love and power
Hewn deep down by broken bodies
Slyly traded for weapons
To cut down your enemies,
Proud of race and heritage.

You have no tribal name.

Sit now air-conditioned
As the wrath of vengeful spirits
Eats away your remorseless soul.

Martin Delemare

6th August 2010