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Showing posts from 2016

Satan's Truck

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I'm going to shout
I'm going to cry
I'm going to pout
I'm telling you why
Satan's truck is coming to town

He's making a list
He's checking it for
The kids who are rich
The kids who are poor
 Satan's truck is coming to town

He haunts you when you're sleeping
He taunts when you're awake
Don't matter if you're bad or good
Its kerching for goodness sake 

I'm going to shout
I'm going to cry
I'm going to pout
I'm telling you why
Satan's truck is coming to town

Pray with Standing Rock

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Standing Rock is where Native American Water Protectors stand between the greed and recklessness of big oil and the future of our planet. The American government needs to know that the world sees the ongoing injustice towards Native Americans, the state sanctioned terrorism perpetrated by law enforcement and its utter disregard for the health and wellbeing of its citizens.

However, in keeping with the principles of the Water Protectors we stand, not a aggressors but as protectors. Our prayer vigil looks for love and peace to win over hatred, greed and violence.
I am planning a vigil on the Millenium Bridge in Lancaster at 9pm on 26 November. A silent prayer for the Water Protectors and the future of our planet. I propose we gather just before 9pm, pray in silence for 2 minutes and then simply communicate with each other.

This event has a spiritual element but is not religious. It is not promoting any religion, god or creed. If you are supporting another event in the city you can alway…

Forever Arms

Hold me in arms that trustBeyond the trust that I deserveBeyond the trust that I have earnedBeyond the fear that lies dead deepThe dark primaeval fear of deathLay cold in quiet familiar graveShow me scenes of wanton hateCallous acts of naked spiteFlaunted in religious garbWith glee that would have Satan blushChrist still warm nailed to his crossAnd in his name poor wretches crushedI will beat the wailing wallUntil my hands are torn and scarredAnd shame the lying bastardsWho pimp the Holocaust for what?Excuse their callous disregardFor life they think so lightly ofChristians, Jews and Muslims allFanatical, their virtues strainedRebuke us for our moral filthWhile we show flesh and choose our matesThey scratch and spit at flesh and boneAnd whore their faith for pen and inkRead me a Psalm, I'll share your EidI'll tabernacle for a whileSustain me with your words of hopeInstead of laws that I must breakSo I must beg your moral godand owe a debt I cannot payLet me drink till I am dru…

Neoliberalism Must Die

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I was born into an age where a slap on a woman's bottom was neither condoned nor condemned, where there was no such thing as a chair person. We laughed with black and Irish comedians who weren't just self deprecating, they were perpetuating the racism we now find totally unacceptable. Homosexuality was illegal. Equal pay wasn't even a policy, never mind a reality. But we got free health care and there was an extensive stock of council housing. There were soup kitchens for down and outs but no food banks for working families. We were still celebrating our victory over Nazi Germany, the civil rights movement was cutting its teeth and the mighty British Empire was being dismantled.There wasn't a great deal of money around but there was hope. There were real opportunities for working class people (albeit mainly for white, heterosexual men) and the wealthy and successful had no choice but to feed back into the economy. The post war economic model not only gave rise to unpre…

Lancaster Music Festival event

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I'm Fine

I had a heart for dreams
A head for heights
Not risk averse
Not one for scripts
Or destinations life predicts

But with no desire to wake
Afraid to fall
Or to rehearse
Fluffing every line
Eyes on the map, missing every sign

Being untrained and unprepared
I hit the rocks
And what is worse
I could not own
Whatever I'd defused or I had blown

I was subdued by guilt
Who knows what for
A petrifying curse
Where every corner hides a threat
Round which no expectation might be met

Its hard to change
Or shed a skin
Forsake the nurse
Detach the safety line
Append no 'but' when I reluctantly declare "I'm fine"

© Chris Price 2016

Horns and Islands

Smaller now the island seems
The refuge, once, of hopes and dreams
Is just a pile of bricks and beams
Where doorways in are doorways out
And certainties give way to doubt
While reservoirs defer to drought

The paper trail has washed away
The oracles have much to say
But not pertaining to today
The path that led us hence is clear
But where we are to go from here
Needs wisdom that we must revere

But we revere the seers no more
Nor trust the mantle that they wore
Our hope is not the hope of lore
The orators in birthday suits
Sew leaves of figs but bear no fruits
We'll beat our drums, not heed their flutes

We'll board a crusty ship of fools
Defy the odds and break the rules
With hasty plans and makeshift tools
We'll chart a course around the horn
Where bows are broke and sheets are torn
Where futures are destroyed and born

© Chris Price 2016