As I grow old
Iwill not shuffle to the beat
and make that slow retreat
to the right.
I will be a septuagenarian insurrectionist
marching with the kids. I shall sing
‘La Marseillaise’, whilst brandishing
homemade placards that proclaim
‘DOWN WITH THIS SORT OF THING’.
I will be an octogenarian obstructionist,
and build unscalable barricades
from bottles of flat lemonade,
tartan blankets and chicken wire.
I will hurl prejudice upon the brazier’s fire.
I will be a nonagenarian nonconformist,
armed with a ballpoint pen
and a hand that shakes with rage not age
at politicians’ latest crimes,
in strongly-worded letters to The Times.
I will be a centenarian centurion
and allow injustice no admittance.
I will stage longstanding sit-ins.
My mobility scooter and I
will move for no-one.
And when I die
I will be the scattered ashes
that attach themselves to the lashes
and blind the eyes
of racists and fascists.
Daily Archives: November 15, 2023
I was in Truro Cathedral this afternoon with both my choirs as we rehearsed for a very special Carol Service, the ShelterBox Carol Service on December 19th.
The poet, Brian Bilston, has very generously given me permission to share this excellent poem with you. I hope, as I progress through these decades, I can stick to this resolution. We will be at a demo on Saturday, marching ‘with the kids’ and ‘brandishing homemade placards.’