Remote control
England, mighty England
not such a great nation now.
Government rhetoric , lies, manipulation,
emotional amputation
CONTROL
England, our England –
land of broken promises
government infiltration
prejudicial degradation
CONTROL.
England this England –
no hope for disabled now;
injustice, poverty, cruel affectation
stigmatization
REMOTE CONTROL.
So we think we are free?
So, we think we are free?
It’s news to me.
Free to be poor
intimidated
inspected
…hungry, cold,
crushed, trampled.
infected …
free to be
abused, targeted
threatened by knife …
cold, homeless, alone
rejected …
free to be deprived
earn a pittance
dejected
rot in old age
powerless, hungry, alone,
neglected.
So we think we are free?
our planet was free!
so why aren’t we
cared for
supported
respected.
The all-seeing eye
The all-seeing
deleterious eye
blind to the reality
of life on benefits –
“we know what they need”,
(no idea, no clue)
“we know how they live”
(blinkered assumptions )…
“bet they are on their hols”
(as if disabled aren’t entitled to some respite)
“yeah, bet they are down the pub”
(as if disabled shouldn’t escape their constraints)
“bet there’s nothing wrong with them”
(if they could only live one day in our shoes)
misguided, misinformed,
blind to the reality
of life for the disabled.
The all-seeing
myopic eye
scrutinises
with its blinkered viewpoint,
prejudicial interpretation,
flicks from side to side
searching
seeking out
easy targets –
the all seeing monstrous eye:
judge, jury, prosecutor –
verdict: Guilty!!!”
“Calling all number 3’s!”
“Come in number 3 your time is up!!!
Only number 4 will now suffice –
hurry hurry hurry!”
Remember to ensure
that you can only crawl
on your belly would be preferred
or carried by some willing carer
in fact it may be best to not move at all –
no malingerers here!
You won’t get help if you can walk!
feed yourself
wash
dress
… or hobble
“Come in number 2!!!
your time is up!
no part in this for you!
What? … number 1?
… well, let’s just say that you are done!”
To satisfy regulations:
ideally live
in a mould-infested hovel
grovel
survive on gruel
“Please sir can I have some more”
only allowed for number 4;
you simply cannot enjoy life
or even have a life!
… basically … don’t … even … breathe.
***This poem was inspired by the governments proposed changes to PIP scoring system for care. Normally a variety of scores from 1-3 are allocated for each section providing they add up to the required total. In the new regulations an assessor must award a score of 4 in at least one area. Level four is extremely difficult, virtually impossible (highlighted by the above poem). This is therefore a blatant, cruel, ignorant, plan to reduce the number of claimants at any cost to their health and wellbeing, let alone their desperately needed benefits. PIP is supposed to be awarded to help with the additional costs of being disabled, and to aid independence in whatever form that is beneficial for the claimant, regardless of their work or non-working status.