Planned Obsolescence

It started with a ball point,

A little plastic pen.

Forget replacement cartridge.

Buy new, begin again.

 

Before too long, repairing

Became something of a myth.

Discard the old, spend afresh.

Commerce’s great self gift.

 

Advancements in technology

Had ideas about forever

But panic is a fearsome foe.

Reduce their spending? Never!

 

‘We’ll have to get a grip on this

Before the market fails.

Put a halt on progress, chaps, or

We’ll be going off the rails.’

 

‘How about some plotting then?

Some bugs to keep them keen?

Repairs cost more than buying new?

Nudge, wink. Know what I mean?’

 

‘You’re joking, man, they’re not that daft.

Unless of course we’re wary.

This could save our arses, guys.

Penury is scary.’

 

‘How about we use components

That fail in maybe five years?

That would keep them buying.’

‘Sure, we’ve found the answer. Cheers!’

 

‘Now profit margin’s down a bit.

Some work is needing done

On putting up the ante, folks.

This could be such fun!’

 

‘Keep in reserve the best of stuff

And filter through the trash,

Give them a taste of what’s to come.

Same stuff, we’ll just rehash.’

 

‘We’re owed some homage for our work,

Humility, some obeisance.

We’ll get our kicks, lads, never fear

By planning obsolescence.’

 

It never ends. Manipulation.

Market forces, it seems,

Determine days from when a pen was filled

For inscribing future dreams.

 

 

Forgiven Not Forgotten

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/12/21/prompt-forgive/

Maggie really messed my mind

I couldn’t focus, couldn’t find

She played with my full deck

The eighties were a nightmare ’cause

I hated all she said, no pause

In drivel. Flippin’ heck!

 

Such a feeling in my heart!

My first to loathe, an awful start

To hate another person

Hearing her on my TV

Could fill my soul with misery

I had to stop from listening

 

If only just to stop the tide

Of hatred that I felt inside

So angry at her reason

How could she quote St. Francis when

Her charity was stripped barren

All I felt was treason

 

That such a one should preach to us

Say she knew because she was

A simple grocer’s daughter

Stripped industry, denationalised,

So many hated and despised

When her minions said all ought to

 

‘Get on your bikes! Go find the work!’

‘No shysters here! Don’t try to shirk!

There’s work for those that matter.’

Of course, the truth was underplayed

Really it was not relayed

That employment was all scattered

 

Across the country far and wide

Leave family and home to find

Or else you get no dole

Humble men with working pride

In earnest, they began to fight

To make themselves feel whole

 

For ethic of the working man

Is so important in their plan

To feed and house those closest

Being called a layabout or worse

Felt like Tories had all cursed

Those who work the most

 

In Scottish land the hate was great

We felt it. God, we filled with hate

At woman and her peers

I shouted and I walked the streets

Demonstrated, fought for weeks

And months and many years

 

Eventually I tired of

The hatred fuelled by her because

It drained my spirit so

I stood at last in public forum

Relinquished feelings of all harm

I really let it go

 

Repentance, no, well not as such,

More preservation for self, so much

Hatred breaks a heart

I let it be and fought with might

Focused on a better fight

We got our brand new start