Detained at her majesty’s pleasure (Part Eight)

Ramblings from a prison cell 

MY SONG AND SPOON ACT

My daily juggling routine gained me some notoriety throughout the prism and I was told I needed to put on a show for inmates, by the inmates! This happened a number of times and I was taken by screws to other cells. I performed some juggling, balancing a plastic spoon on my nose and sang this song which they loved most of all – it must have resonated strongly.

Billy Bragg – “Rotting On Remand”

I stood before the Judge that day, As he refused me bail

And I knew that I would spend my time, Awaiting trial in jail

I said there is no justice, As they led me out of the door

And the Judge said, “This isn’t a court of justice, son, This is a court of law.”

They first sent me to Windsor, And then to Stoke on Trent

In a holding cell in Liverpool, Three days and nights I spent

My solicitor can’t find me, And my family don’t know

I keep telling them that I’m innocent, They just say, “Come on son, in you go.”

I was picked up on suspicion of something I haven’t done, Here I sit in ‘F’ wing waiting for my trial to come

It’s a cruel unusual punishment that society demands, Innocent till proven guilty, rotting on remand

Is the price of law and order the stench of Wormwood Scrubs, With judges quick to sentence more down from above

It’s a cruel unusual punishment that society demands, Innocent till proven guilty, rotting on remand

I ended up in this jail, Built in 1882

When one man to one prison cell, Was a Victorian value

Now three of us are squeezed in here, And you can’t escape the smell

Of that bucket in the corner, And we eat in here as well

They let me out of this cage, To slop that bucket out

To get my food and bring it back, And if I’m lucky, get a shower

Apart from one hour’s exercise, I’m locked in here all day

You don’t turn criminals into citizens, By treating them this way

SMALLER BUSINESSMAN

I am the smaller businessman, In turnover not stature, 

The future now belongs to me, Or so says Mrs Thatcher. 

We are two million or maybe more, Awaiting our deployment, 

And if we each employ one more, We’ll drop the unemployment. 

I am the smaller businessman, But wish that I were bigger, 

I’m told that small is beautiful, But big is on the trigger. 

And what’s between the interest, And loans for which I hanker, 

I wish my dear old mum and dad, Had trained me to be a banker. 

I am the smaller businessman, Getting so much smaller,

With sales tax and income tax, My creditors grow taller. 

I found some customers to buy, On terms including credit, 

And so my income only grows, Pro rata to my debit.

I am the smaller businessman, Not taking on much labour, 

Unless you count the wife and kids, And recently the neighbour. 

I found the almost perfect way, Of conquering inflation, 

For since I can’t afford to pay, They do it for the nation. 

I am the smaller businessman, Thinking of expansion, 

But it seems the only way, Is mortgaging the mansion. 

So with my new collateral, I’ll back my innovation, 

But I may not get that far upon, My family’s adulation. 

I am the smaller businessman, Depleted but defiant, 

I don’t suppose I’ll ever be, A conglomerate or giant. 

But something makes me want to keep, My little business flying, 

And if I never make the grade, It’s not for lack of trying.

17. MOTHERS

My sentence hurt my mother much more than it did me.  She suffered untold shame and humiliation while her family and friends just didn’t know how to comfort her. Was it better to pretend I had just disappeared or talk about it and drown in my mum’s tears.  

ANGELS

Mothers are angels who are way underpaid 

If they form their own union they’d get an upgrade 

For now all they get is a hug and a kiss 

Let’s show that we love them and give them more bliss

FOR MY MUM (Mother’s Day 1989)

There’s no end to beginning and no beginning to end 

no words can describe this love that I send 

no card can contain and no letter can show 

the thoughts I am feeling and the things that I know 

how a mother can suffer again and again 

how her love for her children can cause so much pain 

Though with separate hearts the seed that grew 

will always remain another part of you 

and though from you the child was born 

the cord of love can never be torn 

While parted by oceans full of tears 

some cosmic connection survives the years 

perhaps it’s your temper or maybe your grin 

that reminds me now of this love that’s within