angrysampoetry

the foundations of oppression can't be plucked up without the anger of a multitude

A Day in the Life of a Land Called Utopia

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At the Peckham Hotel on 14th December, people were asked to stick post-its to a ‘Utopia Wall’, imagining things they’d like to see and do in a day in a perfect world. It was my job to take the ideas and make them into a poem. Here it is. The ideas are not mine although I got to interpret them as I felt.

Let’s start the day in make-believe,
Sleeping Beauty rubs her eyes: it’s been rest indeed,
It is the job of art to make you believe,
So step out of the tunnel where the metal gleems,
Forget the rust of the day-to-day stuff
And just believe.

Obama’s in the kitchen cooking chicken wings in the frying pan,
Can we eat them? Yes, we can!
He’s abandoned power and moved over to the meek side,
Dedicated to the people, his Nobel Peace Prize.
Nukes been decommissioned and armies wished away,
The sun is shining because that’s kind of day
And we’re off to the seaside where the dolphins play,
Flip silvery backs in the azure bay,
Where waves crash enticingly
And white sugar icing clouds high in a blue sky,
We’re going to learn to fly today.

But first we’ll build a boat out of driftwood,
Take the best book you’ve ever read
(We took it out the library where they serve
Free beer and that nice burnt stout),
Lie your head back and float out
Into the night time.

The stars glitter, far away, like hot specks
And we slide into each other and have hot sex:
An interlocking of most loving minds,
never inhibited or flustered,
And when we’re finally done…
There’s a bowl of custard
And hot chocolate
And people to talk to who accept us,
And we travel back in time
And once again it’s breakfast.

This time it’s Dave Cameron at the stove,
Doing his Big Society part,
And we say, “Dave,
This is the way to the people’s hearts.”

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Written by angrysampoetry

December 15, 2011 at 11:48 am

Posted in Poems, Text

Tagged with , , , , ,

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