Competition: Vote for us

In Competition 3351 you were asked to send in an election manifesto in verse (lucky timing). The entries threw up plenty of bold ideas for strategists to pick over, though a degree of cynicism was in evidence – the general mood captured by Basil Ransome–Davies’s ‘Opportunist party’: ‘If you favour easy answers,/ Vote for us, the British chancers’. I’m sorry not to have had room for Alan Millard’s Cross Your Fingers party, Bill Greenwell’s Horny-Handed Sons of Toil, Adrian Fry’s Bigots of Britain, Frank Upton’s moon-is-green-cheese promises, Sylvia Fairley’s manic-festo, and more. A special mention for Chris O’Carroll’s last-ditch Tory plea: ‘Vote with us for a Parliament that’s hung.’ Those first past the post win £25.

What does modern Britain need? Our manifesto states
That we don’t have the foggiest, because our candidates
Are picked to be uncertain, and to dither at a choice –
Which is why the Don’t Know party’s the authentic national voice
We don’t know what we’re doing, and we don’t know where we’re going,
And Ipsos Mori tells us our support is huge and growing.
We’re not sure what our policies are, but we can promise this,
We’ll build a happier Britain, if ignorance is bliss.
All other politicians may pretend they know what’s what,
But we alone will honestly admit that we do not.
Instead we shrug our shoulders, and take little interest,
And hope we’ll muddle through by sort of hoping for the best.
And so we speak for Britain. You may be asking, though,
Whyever should you vote for us? We truly do not know.

George Simmers

Our pledge is to reclaim the throne of France;
Along with it, the pens of all your aunts!
All those vineyards – just imagine it –
Like Henry Five, Plantagenet,
Once more, unto the beach we’ll all advance!

One nation ours, from Nice to John O’Groats –
The plan is guaranteed to stop the boats.
The French will hardly rue it;
It’s the only way to do it,
For want of any safe and legal routes.

No Frenchman’s really going to miss Calais;
Be fair, it’s not exactly Saint-Tropez.
Some have travelled a long way
To arrive in the UK
Et voilà, ils sont déjà arrivés!

David Silverman

Voters, lift your glasses clinking,
bend your elbows, lend an ear,
join the party that loves drinking;
Sort It Out Over a Beer.
Cure what ‘ales’ you: debt, inflation,
bring the bar to Number 10,
booze up at the polling station,
make this country drunk again!
Be like Churchill, sloshed and proud
on the hustings, scotch in hand,
your voice matters, say it loud,
pick your liquor, choose your brand,
we’ll debate between our bitters,
we will cheer for People Power,
campaign with the heavy hitters,
vote for us at happy hour.

Janine Beacham

The Guild of Formal Poetry requests
all true-blue patriotic Brits to vote
for us. The free verse movement that infests
our Isle must at the ballot box be smote.

Our land is home to Wordsworth and the Bard,
so everyone should speak in metric feet;
and formal English language has been marred
by slang, a vicious trend we will unseat.

Those citizens who can’t converse in rhyme,
and those who chop up prose and call it verse
will be incarcerated for a time,
and afterwards comes unemployment’s curse.

Let’s talk of Grecian Urns and Light Brigades,
of mortal coils and daggers. Every bloke
and lass – elect tradition lest it fades,
expunged by all too liberal-thinking folk.

Paul A. Freeman

I’ve invented a marvellous party!
The rest have been doing it wrong.
We’ll declare honestly
That each new policy
Will be made up as we go along.
There is always a problem with leaders,
And when we should show them the door
So we’ll take it in turns so that every MP
Does the job for no longer than two days or three,
Since they wouldn’t enjoy any more.
It’s really a marvellous party!
The Commons was once such a bore,
But we all know debates are just playing with words,
So in our cut and thrust, we’ll be using real swords,
Then we’ll leave government to the House of Lords,
So no one needs to vote any more.

Brian Murdoch (with apologies to Noël Coward)

We’re movers, shakers, power-takers,
Set to rule the land.
We know exactly what you want:
Check out our groovy plans!

The details, though, we won’t reveal,
Until we’re voted for,
’Cause simple stuff, like how things work,
Like, man, is such a bore!

The task for now is just to smash
The other parties’ views,
Then disinter the good bits,
Deciding which to use.

Vote Middle Ground, vote nicey-nice,
And see just what’s in store:
A nest of mediocrity,
The type you’ve loved before!

Nicholas Lee

No. 3354: Outta palo alto

You’re invited to send in the musings of a tech billionaire (150 words/16 lines maximum, and no billionaire should be able to sue). Please email entries to competition@spectator.co.uk by midday on 12 June.