Lyrik STILL WALKING (Satis Shroff, Freiburg)
Satis Shroff
June 09, 2009
´I will not walk away,´
Said PM Gordon Brown.
His ministers had walked out on him.
Disgusted with his inner circle
Of soccer-fans
And other fads.
Manchester is United,
Labour isn´t.
Was he walking by a rule?
Mr. Brown ruled with two circles:
His soccer-crazy inner circle
With Ed Balls,
An outer one with grey mice.
He was walking down a lonely road,
It seemed.
When he walked in,
He walked into Blairites.
Gordon was walking into his political savings.
Could he steer Britain´s economy
Out of the big recession?
He walked his legs off,
Pleading to Labourites to stay.
It wasn´t a walk over
For Brown´s pride,
When ministers refuse to walk
Together with him,
After the debacle at the Euro polls.
He racked his brains,
Came up with a belated inquiry
Into the Iraq war,
To save his skin.
In a last bid he reshuffled
His cabinet cards:
Darling, Miliband and Balls
Held their jobs.
Gordon promoted:
Johnson, Jowell, Mandelson,
Cooper, Burham, Ham.
Eh, was it worth to promote Ainsworth?
A soap-opera supper,
Where guests prefer
To sit and walk out at will.
Gordon is certainly walking on air.
It´s become more a walk
On a razor´s edge.
If this silly Labour circus goes on
In Downing No. 10,
He is most likely to walk
On all fours.
The battle is lost,
Er steht auf verlorene Posten.
The rats have sprung overboard.
Councils like Lancashire, Derbyshire,
Stafford, Nottinghamshire
Have become Tory counties.
Labour lost 250,
Conservatives gained 217 seats.
Captain Brown remains adamant,
And runs his ship.
I´m afraid it´s not Trafalgar.
Perhaps Cap´n Bleigh?
He clutches his crutches
And mutters:
´I will not walk away.´
Brown has a strategy:
He hopes to limp towards autumn,
Defying the wind against him.
Can he bend it like Beckham?
Captain Brown, still at the helm,
Insists: ´I will not waver,
Or walk away.´
Britain doesn´t know:
Whether to be awed
Or amused.
And thereby hangs
A tale.
Drinking Darjeeling Tea in England 2008 (Satis Shroff, Freiburg)
Beware the Ides of March
Manchester will be a milestone
In Gordon Brown´s polit-life.
Your economic ´competence´
Has become an Achilles heel,
Your weak point.
The people´s party of New Labour
Wants to get rid of you.
These are the rumours
Heard in the trendy streets of London.
Twelve months ago Gordon Brown
Was the Messiah of Brit politics,
After Blair´s disastrous role in the Labour.
Alas, the new Messiah
Lost his face,
Within a short time.
His weakness: decision making.
England is nervous, fidgety,
For Labour fears a possible loss,
Of its 353 Under House seats.
Above the English cabinet
Looms a Damocles sword.
Will Labour watch,
Drink Darjeeling,
Till a debacle develops?
Labour is in a dilemma.
Hush, help is near.
David Miliband is going vitriolic.
A silly season indeed,
Drinking Darjeeling tea in England.
Said PM Gordon Brown.
His ministers had walked out on him.
Disgusted with his inner circle
Of soccer-fans
And other fads.
Manchester is United,
Labour isn´t.
Was he walking by a rule?
Mr. Brown ruled with two circles:
His soccer-crazy inner circle
With Ed Balls,
An outer one with grey mice.
He was walking down a lonely road,
It seemed.
When he walked in,
He walked into Blairites.
Gordon was walking into his political savings.
Could he steer Britain´s economy
Out of the big recession?
He walked his legs off,
Pleading to Labourites to stay.
It wasn´t a walk over
For Brown´s pride,
When ministers refuse to walk
Together with him,
After the debacle at the Euro polls.
He racked his brains,
Came up with a belated inquiry
Into the Iraq war,
To save his skin.
In a last bid he reshuffled
His cabinet cards:
Darling, Miliband and Balls
Held their jobs.
Gordon promoted:
Johnson, Jowell, Mandelson,
Cooper, Burham, Ham.
Eh, was it worth to promote Ainsworth?
A soap-opera supper,
Where guests prefer
To sit and walk out at will.
Gordon is certainly walking on air.
It´s become more a walk
On a razor´s edge.
If this silly Labour circus goes on
In Downing No. 10,
He is most likely to walk
On all fours.
The battle is lost,
Er steht auf verlorene Posten.
The rats have sprung overboard.
Councils like Lancashire, Derbyshire,
Stafford, Nottinghamshire
Have become Tory counties.
Labour lost 250,
Conservatives gained 217 seats.
Captain Brown remains adamant,
And runs his ship.
I´m afraid it´s not Trafalgar.
Perhaps Cap´n Bleigh?
He clutches his crutches
And mutters:
´I will not walk away.´
Brown has a strategy:
He hopes to limp towards autumn,
Defying the wind against him.
Can he bend it like Beckham?
Captain Brown, still at the helm,
Insists: ´I will not waver,
Or walk away.´
Britain doesn´t know:
Whether to be awed
Or amused.
And thereby hangs
A tale.
Drinking Darjeeling Tea in England 2008 (Satis Shroff, Freiburg)
Beware the Ides of March
Manchester will be a milestone
In Gordon Brown´s polit-life.
Your economic ´competence´
Has become an Achilles heel,
Your weak point.
The people´s party of New Labour
Wants to get rid of you.
These are the rumours
Heard in the trendy streets of London.
Twelve months ago Gordon Brown
Was the Messiah of Brit politics,
After Blair´s disastrous role in the Labour.
Alas, the new Messiah
Lost his face,
Within a short time.
His weakness: decision making.
England is nervous, fidgety,
For Labour fears a possible loss,
Of its 353 Under House seats.
Above the English cabinet
Looms a Damocles sword.
Will Labour watch,
Drink Darjeeling,
Till a debacle develops?
Labour is in a dilemma.
Hush, help is near.
David Miliband is going vitriolic.
A silly season indeed,
Drinking Darjeeling tea in England.
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