Peter Lilly: Poems

When another's border is opaque, windows blocked with the coagulated death of hopeful escapees, reinforcing our borders  is a reinforcement of that death. When political concern  prioritises  the comfort of British holiday-makers over the survival and humanity of an other, we commit atrocities. But we want, need our distractions, excuses to turn our heads so Cameron, please don't mention refugees.  When he speaks of  'illegal migrants' to refer to people who  face death at home  and are cleaved from their soil, face death on their own borders  and burrow beneath detection, face death on the M editerranean  praying to stay buoyant through squalls  and over sharks, face imprisonment in Europe and attempt to assimilate as they climb north, face death in the dysentery of the glass-ceiling-camp of Calais and wait and wait not allowed to move forward or turn back, he knows he speaks of refugees and he lies. ...

These lies cast a thoughtful zeal from the heart of their origin and it convinced so many in the necessity of shadows, that is the necessity of corruption. It was some sort of impatience that drew its teeth across the shivering flesh of the already emotionally tortured, And so many twisted hands reach for the escapism of free-market capitalism that has the individual all wrong: Equating relational significance with collecting eroding materials in the makeup of glittered vomit. And so may twisted hands reach for the razor-wire scaffolding of communism which has community all wrong: Negating the significance of the particular and fashioning flesh cogs which will never rotate cleanly because we are persons, not machinery. Desperate people will grasp for any answers they can reach.  This poem is a call for care and consideration, it is written to highlight that there is more than left and right, conservative and labour, blue and red, ...