Poem: British Summertime Ends
The clocks go back.
Hear the tock tick, tock tick,
as the clouds darken and the sky
bleaches for the winter months,
the ground turning soft and grey.
An hour is lost for an hour, but where?
It joins last summer’s absent sunshine
in a secret place, with odd socks,
the megalomaniac rain staging a coup
in this rapidly changing world.
Poem: Public Orders
You have the right to remain oppressed.
Do not think unapproved thoughts.
Stay where you are until we come for you.
We are watching you at all times.
If you smoke you will die.
If you are fat you should die.
If you are rich we like you.
If you are poor we pretend to like you.
Are you terrorist or citizen?
Your dustbin is too full.
You have the wrong face.
You are either with us or.
Remember to always take your dog shit with you when you leave.
tags: 1984, Big Brother, creative writing, Labour, Orwell, poem, poetry, surveillance
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