Comrade Corbyn's Allotment, 2018

Another excuse to satirise Labour Party politics of 2015-20 and its leader, Jeremy Corbyn, in particular. It seems unbelievable and horrifying now that he could have held that position for so long.  The background to this pot is the attempted murder in 2018 of former military officer Sergei Skripal and his daughter Yulia in Salisbury - presumably on Putin's orders - using the nerve agent, Novichok. There was a repeat use of this chemical weapon that killed two UK citizens. Corbyn refused to condemn Russia for an attack that might have resulted in the mass poisoning of much of the population of a British city. 

Comrade Corbyn's Allotment, (based on Mary Mary Quite Contrary): 

Comrade Corbyn

Puppet of Putin

How’s your allotment grow?

With Novichok

PIE

Antisemites and a

Spy

Poisoning pretty maids

And then

Lying

Low.

Corbyn leans on his spade, a basket of beetroot at his feet. There's a story in that but it is a minor detail for this pot, anyway. Shami Shakrabati waters the allotment as Niobe, 'all tears,' as she fondly strokes an Ermine and John Mcdonnell is wheeling away the skull harvest in his barrow. 

Death calls by and does a final sweep. 

Politicians, Preachers, Prophets, Protesters: Five jugs in 'Ideas Worth Fighting For,' 17th-23rd, October 2016, at the People's History Museum, Manchester.

The Ballad of Gorgeous George, (2015)

Meet my friend George Galloway, 
He worships Ayatollahs
He genuflects to Ba'athists
And he LOVEs the Hezbollollahs.
He entertains his Islamists in a purple leotard,
He's not much good at pussy
But he licks cream good and hard.
OH Galloway's coming to London,
He wants to be the mayor,
Anjem's lot'll love him up
But he doesn't stand a prayer.
When we've thrown him out London, 
He's off to Liverpool,
He's buggerd off from Bradford, 
No one wants him, bloody fool. 

How the Prophet was driven to drink (2015)

And it came to pass
In the land of the Assyrians and Babylonians
That a vile scourge of Ba'athists, Islamists and Barbarians
Did invade and ransack the ancient places.
Bloody was the conquest.
And though the fields were fed with the people's blood
Yet did they yield forth nothing
But more food for vultures.
And even the mighty seas were in tumult
Devouring small boats
Spewing forth corpses
Leaving terror in the hearts of those that reached land.
Verily the prophet did rage at the carnage
Crying out in despair:
"You bastards!" He thundered.
"Goddam! Don't you gettit, you arseholes?
It's fiction!
I lied about gays, about Jews, and addiction.
I don't care who you love, how you worship, or feast.
Eat and drink! Wine or cider! But for fuck's sake, live in peace!" 

Cider Party for the Corbynati, (2015) 

Jeremy Corbyn
Likes it cosy
His beard and bonnet
A little bit posy?
Perhaps his glasses are tinted rosy,
His politics are Crap.

He's a great admirer of Hamas
Khaled Meshal is his friend.
In bed with Hezbollah
Sir Hasan Nasrullah
Doth ram-rod his glistening rear end.

So watch it if you're arty
And offend the Shariati
Or blaspheme the Cornbynati
You'll feel the force of their knee-cap

And mind if Corbyn wins the day
If you're a Jew, or if you're gay
Because jihadis want their pay
And he's a squirming in their lap.

So soddit let's just have a party
Proper Bacchanaliati
Lest Cobyn's sychophantiati
Turn off our cider tap!

Stop The War, jug, (2015)

Stop the War!
Protest in a tweet,
Kiss Assad's arse,
Prostrate at Putin's feet.
Salute the Ayatollahs,
Appease the Caliphate,
It's Israel and America
We all love to hate. 

John McDonnell's Farm, jug, (2015)

John McDonell had a farm,
Eee Aye Eee Aye Oh.
And on the farm he planted cash,
but it wouldn't grow.
With a deficit here
And a printer there
And quantitive easing everywhere,
With normal times here
And special times there
Borrowing and spending and selling off shares,
With Osbornes here
And Camerons there,
And Tory porkers hogging the air,
With campaigns here
And protests there
and Corbyistas tearing their hair,
Poor Jonny 'Donnell's printer jammed.
His farm just had to go. 

Calipahte Seaside jug, (2015)

We are all
Stop-Start a War
HamaHezbolicious!
Come and join us at the seaside
In Islamocalificious!
We think you'll find the food out here 

is really quite delcious
The weather, beach and swimming, dear, 

is always beneficious.
Bit it's beheading infidels, my dear,
The rape, and crucificious,
That's what makes the Caliphate,
the Best Vacationicious. 

Jeremy Corby's Cider Jug

A Cider jug for Jeremy Corbyn - the Corbo-sensitive should look away now.

Jeremy Corbyn
Likes it cosy
His beard and bonnet
A little bit posy?
Perhaps his glasses are tinted rosy..
His politics are Crap.

He's a great admirer of Hamas
Khaled Meshal is his friend.
In bed with Hezbollah
Sir Hasan Nasrullah
Doth ram-rod his glistening rear end.

So watch it if you're arty
And offend the Shariati
Or blaspheme the Cornbynati
You'll feel the force of their knee-cap

And mind if Corbyn wins the day
If you're a Jew, or if you're gay
Because jihadis want their pay
And he's a squirming in their lap.

So soddit let's just have a party
Proper Bacchanaliati
Lest Cobyn's sychophantiati
Turn off our cider tap!