'Not the American Dream'
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'Not the American Dream'
by
James McEwan Jnr
They call it the home of the brave,
And the land of the free,
Full of opportunity for all,
To have, to hold and see,
They talk about truth and justice,
And the fantastic American way,
Everyone has an opinion,
And everyone has a say,
Their leaders talk of peace,
And a World without hate,
People actually trust their Government,
To deliver their future and decide their fate,
Obesity and ignorance go hand in hand,
A lack of intelligence too,
But that's just the majority of these people,
Making up numbers in the World's biggest zoo,
They dream of love and Utopia,
In every script they write,
They make a big deal of love and togetherness,
Nothing is wrong and everything's so right,
With all their burgers and soda,
Joined by fries and beers,
Bad shows like Frazier, Will & Grace,
Good shows like Friends, Happy Days and Cheers,
Their slogans and quips,
Like 'whatever' and 'cool',
Infect all the empty vases,
From the office back to school,
They send their soldiers into battle,
Where wanted they are not,
All they want to do is 'kick some ass',
But they just end up getting shot,
Looking after big number one,
Is really what they want to do,
Forget the rest of the World,
Like him, her, me and you,
Their leader lives in Washington D.C.,
In a glorious big white house,
But he isn't called Bush, he's called Mickey,
And he's a giant talking mouse,
Their presence is like a plague
It infects everything around us,
But they're liked by all simpletons,
Who just love to jump on the star spangled bus,
Like some of their movies,
There's really good and really bad,
But despite the amount of crap they come out with,
It always seems to become some kind of fad,
Other countries get sucked up,
And copy their 'culture' so much,
They cannot find their own ideas,
No originality and no heart in their touch,
I don't particularly like the Yankees,
But it's not like I hate them all,
I just cannot stand their pettiness,
About girls, love, being American and hanging out at the mall,
But of course they have their ways,
And of course we have ours,
But we don't shove our ways down their throat,
Every month, every week, every day, every 24 hours,
I want to say a lot more really,
About their soldiers, actors, fashion and soul,
But that would take me forever,
Another time maybe, next time they piss me off,
G'night y'all.
END
JMC 2004 ©
James McEwan Jnr
Joni Productions
'Missing'
by
Her Father
Born in August, on the day of the 9th,
In the year 1998,
Toni McEwan drew her first breath,
A breath that decided my fate,
On that special day of days,
I took her in my arms and cried,
That one defining moment right there,
Eclipsed all I'd done or tried,
Her eyes looked like the heavens,
And spoke clearly of our future,
We'd live in unlimited happiness,
Her and me against the World, together,
Her first few months came and went,
And tantrums had been had,
Some days I would just be so happy,
Some days, a little sad,
Some special moments in time we shared,
My beautiful daughter and I,
There were times we just stared at each other,
Could I be any happier than this, I sigh,
I swore to give my life to her,
And protect her from all that is wrong,
The definition of life her existence is,
More than any one, any painting, any poem, any song,
Her being gives me superhuman strength,
I will never give up, I cannot fall,
She defines my reasons as a man,
Higher than any building, I stand proud and tall,
My life was almost complete, almost real,
It wasn't a dream, it wasn't a fantasy,
I thought no-one could dare, not even the Devil,
To try and chase my happiness away,
But alas, that dreadful day came along,
And reared its so ugly, ugly head,
My happiness was over, I was bleeding deep,
She took Toni away and left me for dead,
I suffered and suffered, and suffered more,
I cried and cried, and cried more still,
To those who took my child away,
I wanted them dead, I wanted to kill,
My family and friends rallied round,
Slowly, they brought me back from the brink,
I was drowning in a well of sorrow,
And an ocean full of drink,
But the thought of seeing her smile again,
Kept me alive, it kept me from dying,
I know one day I can be a father to her,
No God on Earth can stop me trying,
I cannot help feeling angry still,
Towards her mother and her family,
They took my baby away from me,
And made me unbelievably unhappy,
But the light in the tunnel I can now see,
Despite the time between us missing,
I am back to full strength, and I will see her again,
And try to make up the time that went missing,
One day we will be father and daughter proper,
Our strength together will be strong,
Our bond will be re-connected,
As long as I know she is out there,
My heart will go on.
END
James McEwan Jnr
www.joniproductions.co.uk
JMC2005©
'Hero'
by
James McEwan Jnr
When a child, he was nicknames Pelusa,
Born in a villa called Fiorito,
The fifth son of his mother La Tota,
The fifth son of his father Don Diego,
When a boy, there was no nickname needed,
Everyone knew what was happening,
They all watched in amazement at his genius,
The boy was becoming a king,
Born to play the beautiful game,
From the tender age of three,
He is a wonder, a gift, a God,
And he made millions of people happy,
His skills are unbelievable,
They have to be seen to understand,
That this man could make grown men cry,
With a little help from God and his own left hand,
He won his first World Cup in '79,
He was captain, as usual, of his team,
It may have been just the youth version,
But then again, he was just eighteen,
Menotti made a huge mistake,
When he left Diego out of WC '78,
He surely must have realised, surely,
That his young captain was already a great,
But Luis Cesar lacked a little vision,
It's for his protection, he said,
He took Diegos' world from under him,
El Flaco broke his heart and left him for dead,
That pattern of pain rained from time to time,
To darken the skies around this man,
But little Pelusas' strength could never falter,
You can't stop Diego, no-one can,
Come 1982, his dreams became alive again,
When his champions went to Spain,
He went to prove himself as the world's best,
But Gentile and others just gave him hurt and pain,
His nightmare went from bad to worse,
When Goikoetxea snapped his ankle in two,
The colours of Barca were fading,
To be replaced by the Napoli blue,
But now his time had come,
His powers were at their peak,
His genius would silence all that watched,
To the point that they could not speak,
In Mexico '86, Diego created football heaven,
His skills were like a dream,
Like Barry Davies said as he watched his every move,
One man truly can make a team,
Never has a player in history before,
Been so famously branded,
To have done what he done and the way he did,
And win the World Cup almost single handed,
The domestic scene got better still,
As Naples won again and again,
Two Scudettos', Copa Italia and the Eufa Cup,
As the world's finest footballer, Diego continued to reign,
But along came a thunderstorm brewing,
And it stayed over Diego's head,
It seemed that everyone in football,
Wanted the little Pelusa dead,
We all have our private problems,
And we all commit our sins,
But Diego became a public voodoo doll,
And the bastards everywhere had their pins,
Both Havelange and Blatter,
Tried to kill him off,
By trying to douse his bronca,
With their Federation cloth,
But Diego is a man of genius,
He cannot be sold or bought,
The Federation are just pissed off,
Because, for the hidden truth he fought,
So I thank you Diego Maradona,
You inspire me so to try,
To be the best man I ever can be,
And like you did, to touch the sky,
God bless you little pelusa,
Your beautiful daughters too,
You are the greatest footballer of all time,
And I will never forget you.
END
James McEwan Jnr
Joni Productions
Jmc © 2004
'The Word'
by
James McEwan Jnr
A name that defines faith and hope,
A word that spells out an endless life,
Five letters that tell them they can cope,
Two syllables that ease the constant strife,
A concept that towers above all else,
An ideal that is meant to save them all,
A perfect dream that will never end,
The prayer is answered when they call,
No longer depending on themselves,
They rely on a power that belongs in a tale,
Putting responsibility on the shoulders of a myth.
Giving excuses as reason for when they fail,
They all missed the point entirely,
When the word promised to return again,
They all thought that, despite the death at their hands,
The word was coming to take away their pain,
The human race believes in that,
The human race believes in this,
The majority of them live in a fantasy,
And totally give reality a miss,
The concept of faith has lost its way,
It is no more than a new trend of fashion,
The original ideals have disappeared,
Replaced by words without any passion,
The word was said to speak again,
An attempt to unify a lost race,
The letters spelled would save them all,
From the ultimate fall from grace,
But alas, it is all truly just a dream,
Tangled thoughts that haunt their mind,
Visions of paradise that will never happen,
No matter how hard they try to find,
The people will begin to help themselves,
They will learn to use their own two feet,
They will soon realise that they are the word,
And their own destinies they will meet,
But maybe, one day, the word will speak again,
And appear directly in front of us,
He will say three words that will change all life,
And the words will sound out, "I am Jesus"!
END
JAMES MCEWAN
JONI PRODUCTIONS
JMC©2005
www.joniproductions.co.uk
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