Subject: Prejudice
"Mathematics" by Hollie McNish
He said those god damn Pakistanis and their god damn corner shops
Built a shop on every corner, took our British workers' jobs
He said those god damn Chinese and their god damn china shops
I told him they're from Vietnam, but he doesn't give a toss
I ask him what was there before the damn Japan man's shop
He looks at me and dreams a scene of British workers' jobs
Of full time full employment before the god damn boats all came
Where everybody went to work for full time full weeks every day
A British business stood there first he claims, before the Irish came
Now British people lost their jobs and bloody Turkish are there to blame
I ask him how he knows that fact, he said because it's true
I ask him how he knows the fact, he said he read it in the news
Every time a Somalian comes here they take a job from us
The mathematics one for one, from us to them, it just adds up
He bites his cake, he sips his brew and says again he knows this plot
The god damn Carribeans came and now good folk here don't have jobs
I ask him what was there before the god damn Persian curtain shop
I show him architectures, plans of empty godamn plots of land
I show him the historic maps
A bit of sand, a barren land
There was no god damn shop before the Pakistanis came and planned
Man I'm sick of crappy mathematics
Cause I love a bit of sums
I spent three years into economics
And I geek out over calculus
And when I meet these paper claims
That one of every new that came
Takes away one's daily wage
I desperately want to scream
Your math is stuck in primary
Cause some who come here also spend
And some who come here also lend
And some who comes here also tend
To set up work which employs them
And all your balance sheets and trends
They work with numbers, not with men
And this god damn heat you talk
Ignores the trade the Polish brought
Ignores the men they give work to
Not plumbing jobs, but further too
Ignores the guys they buy stock from
Accountants, builders, on and on
And I know it's nice to have someone
To blame our lack of jobs upon
But immigration's not that plain
Despite the sums inside your brain
As one for one, as him for you
As if he goes, they'd employ you
Cause sometimes one that comes makes two
And sometimes one can add three more
And sometimes two times two is much much more
Than four
And most times, immigrants bring more
Than minuses
Explanation: This poem is about the stereotypes and prejudices that people often have about immigrants. Despite what the facts may be, many choose to ignore them, or worse, to create their own (false) facts about immigration, using dissonance to uphold their beliefs, even though even they probably know they aren't right. The poet said she wrote this poem based specifically off things she experienced and heard from one of her co-workers are a previous job, and despite anything she told/showed him, he stood firm in his racism. This poem uses a lot of assonance to convey its message, but the content is so enthralling that it is not immediately obvious that it is a "rhyming poem".
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"A British National Breakfast" by Hollie McNish
They start the day with a small glass of orange juice
Bought at Sainsbury's, South African produce
Mugs emblazoned with our German-bred queen
They sip English breakfast tea
Forgetting those are Indian leaves
One and a half teaspoons each of sugar grain
Bought at Asda, Barbadian cane
Husband fries eggs, wife waters wisteria
Cooking oil from Italy, heating oil Nigeria
They swallow two pills each
To help their bowels and digestion
Invented by a research team of US and Indian
Newspapers flicked through, headlines are read:
Says "More Crime, More Violence, Less Hospital Beds"
She complains to her husband, he complains to his wife
They complain it must be those
Foreign people
Ruining their lives
Voting polls open, UKIP is ticked
Pen bought from Staples, Iranian ink
They drive home on roads laid by Irish Jamaicans
She sprays on her perfume, an Arab invention
Complaining to each other about "foreigners" joining our country
Forgetting the source of our dear British money
Desperate for someone to blame for her boredom
She waters the pansies, fertilizer from Jordan
Desperate for someone to blame for his misery
They complain that "foreigners" are ruining the country
Afternoon nap to TV, both sigh
Made in Sri Lanka, sold from Shanghai
Mumbling that Polish have run to this country
They watch "A Place in the Sun"
Repeated from Sunday
Shop down at Asda cause the stuff there is cheaper
They complain:
"More British Jobs for more British people"
Buy two for one offers from low wages abroad
Claiming:
"The price of local farm shops is robbery fraud"
Pick up a pizza on the short journey home
Complaining:
"British cooking is being pushed to death row"
Home on the couch, watch TV all night
Claiming that "foreigners" have ruined their lives
Finish their day with a cup of hot cocoa
Beans made in Kenya, profits to Tesco
Complaining in bed about closing our borders
They don't learn Spanish, and retire to Majorca
Explanation: This poem is about how the poet is tired of the hypocrisy between how we treat foreign goods, products and money, and how we treat foreign people. It is also about UKIP (UK Independence Party) which, according to their website is "a Libertarian, non-racist party seeking Britain's withdrawal from the European Union." The poet says she doesn't like UKIP, and she doesn't like how other parties are bowing to them either, it scares her. This poem also uses assonance in the same way as most of her poems.
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"Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted
lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll
rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with
gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living
room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of
tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you
want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down
like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness
offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold
mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your
words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your
hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset
you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At
the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I
rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean,
leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind
nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously
clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream
and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Explanation: This poem is about the way the poet is treated as a black woman, and how despite all the horrible treatment she endured, both subtle and blatantly obvious, she will always rise above it. This poem uses assonance as well as metaphors to convey its message.
He said those god damn Pakistanis and their god damn corner shops
Built a shop on every corner, took our British workers' jobs
He said those god damn Chinese and their god damn china shops
I told him they're from Vietnam, but he doesn't give a toss
I ask him what was there before the damn Japan man's shop
He looks at me and dreams a scene of British workers' jobs
Of full time full employment before the god damn boats all came
Where everybody went to work for full time full weeks every day
A British business stood there first he claims, before the Irish came
Now British people lost their jobs and bloody Turkish are there to blame
I ask him how he knows that fact, he said because it's true
I ask him how he knows the fact, he said he read it in the news
Every time a Somalian comes here they take a job from us
The mathematics one for one, from us to them, it just adds up
He bites his cake, he sips his brew and says again he knows this plot
The god damn Carribeans came and now good folk here don't have jobs
I ask him what was there before the god damn Persian curtain shop
I show him architectures, plans of empty godamn plots of land
I show him the historic maps
A bit of sand, a barren land
There was no god damn shop before the Pakistanis came and planned
Man I'm sick of crappy mathematics
Cause I love a bit of sums
I spent three years into economics
And I geek out over calculus
And when I meet these paper claims
That one of every new that came
Takes away one's daily wage
I desperately want to scream
Your math is stuck in primary
Cause some who come here also spend
And some who come here also lend
And some who comes here also tend
To set up work which employs them
And all your balance sheets and trends
They work with numbers, not with men
And this god damn heat you talk
Ignores the trade the Polish brought
Ignores the men they give work to
Not plumbing jobs, but further too
Ignores the guys they buy stock from
Accountants, builders, on and on
And I know it's nice to have someone
To blame our lack of jobs upon
But immigration's not that plain
Despite the sums inside your brain
As one for one, as him for you
As if he goes, they'd employ you
Cause sometimes one that comes makes two
And sometimes one can add three more
And sometimes two times two is much much more
Than four
And most times, immigrants bring more
Than minuses
Explanation: This poem is about the stereotypes and prejudices that people often have about immigrants. Despite what the facts may be, many choose to ignore them, or worse, to create their own (false) facts about immigration, using dissonance to uphold their beliefs, even though even they probably know they aren't right. The poet said she wrote this poem based specifically off things she experienced and heard from one of her co-workers are a previous job, and despite anything she told/showed him, he stood firm in his racism. This poem uses a lot of assonance to convey its message, but the content is so enthralling that it is not immediately obvious that it is a "rhyming poem".
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"A British National Breakfast" by Hollie McNish
They start the day with a small glass of orange juice
Bought at Sainsbury's, South African produce
Mugs emblazoned with our German-bred queen
They sip English breakfast tea
Forgetting those are Indian leaves
One and a half teaspoons each of sugar grain
Bought at Asda, Barbadian cane
Husband fries eggs, wife waters wisteria
Cooking oil from Italy, heating oil Nigeria
They swallow two pills each
To help their bowels and digestion
Invented by a research team of US and Indian
Newspapers flicked through, headlines are read:
Says "More Crime, More Violence, Less Hospital Beds"
She complains to her husband, he complains to his wife
They complain it must be those
Foreign people
Ruining their lives
Voting polls open, UKIP is ticked
Pen bought from Staples, Iranian ink
They drive home on roads laid by Irish Jamaicans
She sprays on her perfume, an Arab invention
Complaining to each other about "foreigners" joining our country
Forgetting the source of our dear British money
Desperate for someone to blame for her boredom
She waters the pansies, fertilizer from Jordan
Desperate for someone to blame for his misery
They complain that "foreigners" are ruining the country
Afternoon nap to TV, both sigh
Made in Sri Lanka, sold from Shanghai
Mumbling that Polish have run to this country
They watch "A Place in the Sun"
Repeated from Sunday
Shop down at Asda cause the stuff there is cheaper
They complain:
"More British Jobs for more British people"
Buy two for one offers from low wages abroad
Claiming:
"The price of local farm shops is robbery fraud"
Pick up a pizza on the short journey home
Complaining:
"British cooking is being pushed to death row"
Home on the couch, watch TV all night
Claiming that "foreigners" have ruined their lives
Finish their day with a cup of hot cocoa
Beans made in Kenya, profits to Tesco
Complaining in bed about closing our borders
They don't learn Spanish, and retire to Majorca
Explanation: This poem is about how the poet is tired of the hypocrisy between how we treat foreign goods, products and money, and how we treat foreign people. It is also about UKIP (UK Independence Party) which, according to their website is "a Libertarian, non-racist party seeking Britain's withdrawal from the European Union." The poet says she doesn't like UKIP, and she doesn't like how other parties are bowing to them either, it scares her. This poem also uses assonance in the same way as most of her poems.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted
lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll
rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with
gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living
room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of
tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you
want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down
like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness
offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold
mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your
words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your
hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset
you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At
the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I
rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean,
leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind
nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously
clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream
and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Explanation: This poem is about the way the poet is treated as a black woman, and how despite all the horrible treatment she endured, both subtle and blatantly obvious, she will always rise above it. This poem uses assonance as well as metaphors to convey its message.