Year End Ballade

Make the best of Hogmanay!
It's never easy, but we try.
Should we drink the night away
or count the seconds as they fly
towards the bells that signify
the moment we've been waiting for
when we can raise the age-old cry -
another year, another war.

Send your sons into the fray.
No need to worry. We apply
elastic combat rules that say
only civilians have to die.
Geneva's dead and buried. Why
pretend to love the rule of law?
The cynic heart can justify
another year, another war.

Refugees are tedious. They
fade from the papers by and by.
If thousands die along the way
we never asked the fools to fly.
Our bombs are clean, our alibi
is ignorance, our metaphor
for death is damage; so, we buy
another year, another war.

Girls and boys, come out to ply
the evil trade we so abhor.
Our actions give our words the lie -
another year, another war.

The Pessimistic Ballade of Arbitrary Behaviour

Nathaniel thought the way ahead
was clear. He looked at Clementine
(a silly name) and softly said
"My only love, will you be mine?
A word, a nod, a glance, a sign
that I'm your Jack and you're my Jill?"
But then he swallowed turpentine
for people do as people will.

She laid him on her mother's bed.
(Her dad had gone to Lichtenstein
in search of mirth and maidenhead,
which some considered out of line.)
She called the priest at ten to nine.
He leaned across the window-sill
and purred, "Your arse is very fine!"
for people do as people will.

He died (Nathaniel) but, instead
of grieving, she went out to dine
(that's Clementine) on garlic bread
and marinated porcupine.
She choked (of course). A lonely spine
that lay concealed in fronds of dill.
The waiter gave her shoes a shine
for people do as people will.

Rational souls, though you decline
to heed my dismal codicil,
pull up a chair, uncork the wine
for people do as people will.