The Kemptown Verses

By JJ Leahy

Opium of the People

Adagio

Weekends should be peaceful, for quite reflection
But comes the that day, it changes direction,
The opium is cheap – addition of the masses
Talent show phenomenon and chicken madras.

Hypnotised in tune, for the coming weeks
To laugh at the deluded, the funny looking geeks,
Harmonies of satin and sweet vocal melded
With assessments are so loftily – so passionately held.

Truth to the populous, they fictitiously pander
Opinions inducted, by the TV propaganda;
My name is Reginald and his name is Stan
A number one hit, expect the best that we can.
After some consideration, we call our group
The Stan and Reginald – Entertainment Troupe!
Throw the microphone down with an echoing thud
Now the public bays for contestant’s very blood.

The show’s hotting up now, dare you not miss
Fintan gets a cuddle and touching kiss;
Innocent fools in queues they are abundant
Judges so haughty, on stage now incumbent.

I ‘m doing this for my children, and fortune I’ll get
Win for my dead granny, who I never actually met
I had many troubled times, a very tough life
Producers release stories, the gossip is rife.
You’ll be sorry, but it’s your choice
Just everyone says, I got such a good voice;
I sing in the pub – enjoy the hooky cokey
Larger than life, I do loads of karaoke.

Now to adhere to the template is the primary rule
And reiterate the usual trite, I was bullied at school
Get myself a husband; I’ll be a footballer’s wife
With the public’s adoration, give my kids a better life.

From the quirky ballerina, singing on her toes
To lout girl embarrassment, a punch on the nose!
All up to the fans, the important public vote
Keep it controversial the producer has wrote.
Decide twix the stereotypes, but can any sing?
Rent, the pretty boy band or the rapper in bling;
Program after program, use the same old script
The diva with identity issues, for the top she’s tipped,

Our favourite is losing her voice and faints in a muddle
And Fintan, Bless him – he gets another cuddle.
The judges are obsessed, more cash or yourself
To amass a huge fortune – of personal wealth;
A thousand percent, I’ve spotted my next muse
He winks at the camera, he’s got nothing to lose.
The contrived scenario, now understood fully
Beg crumbs from the table, of an all empowered bully,

Hype the situations that gossip really rocks
Why all the fuss, its just Opportunity Knocks.
Now favourites lurch from scandal to scandal
Amide the breakdowns, too much to handle.

Matter not complaints, of who’s inducted to rage
Most critical factor accepted, just get the front page!
Once more in the press lead a public outcry
Has the situation been rigged, I wonder why?
It’s the judge’s decision and they are in a huddle
While Fintan himself, he gets another cuddle;
Vote rigging controversial, but it happens of course
Electronic enhancement and who’s the dark horse?

Now the final is here, whittled down to two
Make sure you’re on time and do take a pew;
Franks’ not bright, but he’s very resistant
Forget not the words and stays consistent.
Sarah finds the pressure, so hard to bear
But a voice like hers is considered as rare.
Clichés repeated from the judges they drone
You really made that song, your very own,

A recording voice indeed – now you’ll go far
Great choice of song, a ready made pop star.
Frank’s grandfather died, when he was just seven
I’m singing for you, I know you’re in heaven,
Sarah for her kids – the obligatory Xmas hit
You’re a star my girl, you really nailed it.
The last telephone vote, so eagerly awaited
Excitement is too much; I’ll need to be sedated.

A bit more cuddling with lovely Fintan
Phone up again, vote as much as you can,
The bookies love Frank but reckon Sarah by a metre
On the very brink of history, Dear God we teeter!

The phone vote outcome, we wait and see
Strange that Judges has already pressed the CD?
Smile at camera two, through the tears if you can
Yet another a cuddle with our compare man;
Oh no! Fintan’s auto queue is retching, it’s verbally sick
And he’s overdosing on adjectives reiterated too quick.
Choked and spluttered ‘Oh, fantastic, unbelievably great
Most spectacular, incredible, totally first rate.
Brilliant, just genius, magnificent, amazing
Astonishing, fabulous, marvellous’ – all praising.
The finalists are deities, completely mind blowing
And to the corporation – life long they ‘ill be owing;

Pick your favourite contestant, of which to be fond
From start to finish, you may have been conned?
Wreaked dreams and shattered aspirations
Of simple folk with unattainable expectations.
From humiliation to gratitude does the winning entity lurch
For this is fast becoming, the people’s new church.

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