A Poem for 2020 - channelling the love child of John Cooper Clarke and Victoria Wood.
That was the year that was, it’s over let it go.
When we all began last winter, how were we to know
We'd have bubbles and shields, and be ungregarious
Life would feel so much more precarious
Oh what a time we've had, let it go.
At the start of the year in Beijing
There was talk of a virus type thing
But we weren’t concerned
As half the world burned,
And shopping in sales was the thing.
Brexit began, we left the EU,
‘We claim Britain just for the few!’
Then the virus took hold
And we did what we’re told
And stayed in with nothing to do.
Meanwhile, all forrins were rudely ejected
No matter how old, their papers inspected.
Well now they’ve all left,
I feel quite bereft
And the fields fill with fruit uncollected.
Well, thank heavens for Zoom
For right into my room
New friends just arrive to inspire
And give warmth to my heart like the real world wildfire
Which is still burning its way to our doom.
Well, we all gave the clap to the good NHS
And so, too, to old major Moore, may god bless,
He walked, and he walked this fantastic old geezer
Only slim-ly avoiding a cardiac seizure,
Doddering on, he did his absolute best,
for the jolly old, overworked, good NHS.
The whole of this year we were obliged to stay in
No dancing, no theatre, no music, no nothin’.
Unless, that is, you like to shoot Grouse
Or happen to own a very large house
It‘s been strictly from kitchen to bedroom commutin’.
They closed the pubs and made a play
Of changing the rules every day
You can all meet safely until 10pm
But go home quick because it’s then
That the virus spreads, for it hates the day.
Near the end of the year, as everyone knows
Young Donald was rudely and sweetly deposed.
Brought down by the votes
And his very own folks,
Who don’t check their facts even when it means they have to pretend they intended to hold the post election rally in a car park, in front of the Four Seasons Landscaping office, in between the morgue and the shop that sells... dildos.
Then we have the conspiracy feeders
Who claim that we have lizard leaders
The virus is fake
The new vaccine will make
You into a mind-controlled under achiever.
We’re resisting extinction and calling ‘me too’
Black lives matter and the patriarchy’s poo,
All the world is on the brink,
Harvey Weinstein’s in the clink...
Well, he was. He caught a nasty virus, oh, boo-hoo!
It’s a year that’s caused us all to wonder
Has mankind really made a blunder?
If the virus don’t kill us, then climate change might
And then maybe Earth hits a massive meteorite.
There are too many people, the earth has an affliction
Of man with their plastic and travel addiction.
But life still goes on, just a little less fun,
We look to each other for connection and sun,
Perhaps we will learn that we need to be meek
That the earth can’t sustain such a numerous peak
Kiss goodbye to the old and put all your bets on
Some sort of reprieve in the months yet to come.
Oh what a year that was - it’s over let it go.
Now we’re all experts at making sour dough,
I’ll remember Twenty Twenty
As the year I had plenty,
But I thank the Lord it’s finally over, let’s all just let it go.
Be the first to get the latest updates
Read the latest news and thoughts posted occasionally
Formerly known as the '100 Day Write Club', hear about how a simple idea grew into a movement and caused me to write a book, by mistake.
Edition One: Hand-made with love to inspire and delight, these wooden cubes are created using water transfers to keep the artwork bright and clear.
As novice writer, I share my work only occasionally. Here's my ode to the weirdest year so far.