Motherfucking England …

On the ‘Moving back …’ section of the British Expats website, someone posted the following poem. I was sick a little bit in my mouth when I read it, I’m not sure whether that’s due to its content or the Madras chicken I had for lunch. Anyway – I was struck by the poem in more ways than one and decided to pen my own little response. First the original which was apparently printed in This England magazine.

Mother England
By Gillian Parker

If you plan to leave My shores
Do it when you’re very young,
Leave before your memory stores
Knowledge of your mother tongue.
Leave before you call Me “ Home”
And before your Heart is given
Because , if after that You roam,
Then forever you are riven.
though your eyes may seek and find
wondrous sights on land and sea
you will always find your mind
Turning homeward back to Me.
You will hunger ,you will thirst,
You will suffer all your days ,
Yearning for what you knew first,
English folk and English ways.

English lanes with hedges high,
English gardens all in bloom.
English earth English sky,
English fields and English coomb.
English habits ,
Eyes that smile,
English jokes I think are funny
English clothing worn with style,
English weather , damp or sunny.
And in your rememberings,
Let the pride blot out the pain.
Pride in England’s Kings and Queens.
Pride in speaking England’s name.
Pride in all that made me great ,
Pride in my illustrious past.
Pride in that I played the game
And shall until the very last .

Wasn’t that lovely? I think the images that conjures up of olde englande, ploughmans lunches, cricket greens on hazy Sunday afternoons in July and the changing of the guard are just excllent. Here’s my version.

Motherfucking England
By Hutch

If you plan to leave My shores
Do it when you’ve earnt the cash,
Leave before your number’s up
Perhaps by selling coke or hash.
Leave before you get in “Debt”
And before you join the throng
The unemployment offices are full,
And council housing lists are long.
Though you book your tickets now
Wondrous sights on land and sea
Trollies in the local canal
And sweet fuck all on BBC
You will blossom, you will grow
You will enjoy life’s new phase
Finding out that it’s a bigger world
Than England and her eccentric ways

English lanes with speeding cars
English gardens strewn with trash
English fields now all built over
English towns don’t look so flash
English people,
Don’t dare smile,
English jokes I think are funny
Shellsuits are the height of style,
English weather, more damp than sunny.
And in your rememberings
Don’t forget the endless pain.
The way the royal family’s leeches
Went to the trough again and again
Shame we left it so late before leaving
Shame the planet’s changing fast,
Because life too short and of this I’m certain,
England’s living in the past.