New Poem: Fuckers | London Riots

by , under City Life, Current Affairs, Poems

Fuckers

Are you the same, that yank dogs
with choke leashes, and smash shops?
Tight necks, chain nooses
and restricted passage-ways:
the dispossessed will tonight
by force, take possession
of dogs and televisions
women and matches
and, for a moment,
burn brightly
before waking,
smouldering
with no cause
to kick the ashes
of what time
had tried to build.
Fuckers, all of you
with your weapons out
to club away at that which
you could not control.
This place is going to the dogs,
you sneer, and bark at those who
hold out their hands with nourishment.

 

So sad, so pointless. Young men with no cause. This is sheer idiocy. A very sad day for London.

 


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  1. chris

    Thank you for the poem. Not that I disagree with your poem, but I wonder how to hold these types of actions in tension with piracy that you often laud.

  2. KB

    It’s something I’ve been writing about today – what is a true pirate, and what distinguishes piracy from common theft? What I’d say is that ‘orthodox’ piracy is about action by the disenfranchised against a system that has cut them off from their rightful ‘commons.’ It’s easy to say that these people in Peckham are ‘poor’ and ‘disenfranchised’, but that’s generally untrue. They are not the real poor of London.

    The saddest part of this is that this is action against their fellow community members. Even if they consider themselves to be angry with ‘the system’ over the shooting of Mark Duggen, their action is not against that system whatsoever, it’s against people who have worked hard running shops, or paying for cars. It’s a disgrace, and two fingers up to those who are genuinely in need, and face genuine oppression.

  3. captain zod

    Heres a proper riot poem by Tony Hickson on youtube by someone who lives in london

  4. Timoy Riley

    NEW POEM: Civil Unrest or a Nation of Thieves | London Riots

    The streets are empty,
    And the lamps are dark
    But silhouettes are plenty
    Of angered youths and darkened hearts

    Fists punch the air
    Under a skyline of burning buildings
    Because ‘he who dares’
    Plays the role of villain, in lieu of dejected victims

    Or is he a mere thief?
    A vagabond, with no remorse
    Not driven by grief
    But by carnage, blood lust, and all sorts

    Apes in a ‘Concrete Jungle’
    Lost… Without the concept of shame!
    People who need to be humbled
    And targeted like hunted game

    After all, isn’t Britain just Great?
    Just a very well ran welfare state