“When I despair, I remember that all through history the ways of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and, for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall.”  Mahatma Gandhi

​Who’s afraid of the big bad truth?
Lock down, stay alert, keep it from the door.
Don’t you listen to the big bad sleuth
                                                from 1984.

‘O brave new world,’ exclaimed Miranda.
Prospero said, ‘’Tis new to thee.’
She never knew the propaganda
only a wise old Duke could see.

John was shot by the magic bullet
fired through the trees from Lee’s Carcano,
Lyndon’s trigger. No, he didn’t pull it
but he took the prize, like the Duc di Milano.

Propriety was Jimmy Savile’s
as with Gary and Rolf and Stu.
Before we saw how the truth unravels,
I thought well of them. Well, didn’t you?

See the strength of the towers downtown.
Think on fires and the works of hands.
That same morning they both came down
yet, three years on, still Grenfell stands!

Eight hours after the towers crumbled,
Building Seven, in dust-cloud hid,
the BBC announced had tumbled
twenty odd minutes before it did!

I wonder how much more we think
we know, and all this time awry
while the guilty perpetrators slink
away, leaving people and truth to die.

Who’s afraid of the big bad truth?
It’ll huff, it’ll puff but it won’t be heard.
Built with bricks is the voting booth,
                  where ‘X’ is the only word.

Jesus, why did you answer the Roman
Pilate’s question, “What is truth?”
only with silence? We poor yeomen
can’t tell it now in tones uncouth.

Here He is in the bread and the booze:
body and blood. Still liveth He!
But the church is heaving with empty pews
and no one drinks to ‘remember me’.

Massacred innocents tell no lies.
All in heaven now – all gone home
for the sake of the pizza the big buck buys,
washed down with yummy adrenochrome.

Google it, Twitter it, Wiki it, Bing!
Debunk sites come top of the queries.
They’ll deny every god-damn thing!
Damn those ‘conspiracy theories’,

an idiom coined by the CIA
to quell the question, ‘Who shot the Pres?’
‘Lee, on his own, killed JFK.’
‘Hear, hear,’ the whispering TV says.

But when the theory turns out to be true
the lie still wins. It’s written by the winners.
The lie is the scoop and The News is new:
wrong ’uns pitched by skilful spinners.

Perfect eyesight in twenty twenty?
The Year of the Rat, but how can it be
so blind with fear, so ratty with plenty
of plain-sight rodents we cannot see?!

Doctor, what cause do you inscribe
on deeds of death when your patients die?
For the covid-count do you take that bribe?
Have you sold your oath to a damnèd lie?

Well, if it’s a sin to have been deceived,
forgive us, Lord. We were taken in.
The mainstream lied and we all believed.
Oh yes, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin.

But fear not. I’ll still put on this mask,
and on each hand a disposable glove
till Truth’s door opens (we need but ask)
and evil is blown away by love.

Who’s afraid of the big bad truth?
No need. Come alive! Open up the door!
Embrace your age or embrace your youth!
                            The virus is no more.
Don’t be afraid of the truth, dear friends.
You need not fear it in the least, because
bullshit blows away, brainwashing ends.
                               The virus never was!