Remember the emperor

In Japan, especially in Tokyo, people are a strange mix of efficiency.
Young people are adolescents until they are forty living in an aspic
of western pop culture that does not exist anymore; when their parents die
they either grow up or become recluses unable to cope with the world.
The older generation did well and there are many of them like shingles
in the emperor’s driveway.
Japan had a meltdown 12 years ago which was good for the country
people have less haste and go to karaoke cafes once a week singing
a sentimental song about lonely cowboys.
I was in Nagasaki once, just as Nippon was rising on the financial firmament
but got too close to the sun.
I was amazed how quickly the scars of the nuclear had physically healed
but mentally, there must be a corner in their psyche
that can´t forget and will find revenge one day in the land of the rising sun.

The perception

I was two years old sat in the bomb shelter in the basement of an old school
when I became aware of myself.
I looked at my hands, knowing what I did now I would remember the rest of my life.
Above us, English bombers circled they were trying to find the airport,
which was occupied by the German army,
The bombers did not find the airport but dropped bombs anyway before returning home
hit a school, a fish factory and some houses.
I looked at my hands again I had a will could use in my struggle
in the world of adults, the liberty of my thought made me feel jubilant
but also, a bit frightening because from this moment I was responsible
for my action.
What I fear is old age is it going to rob me of awareness
of what I´m and what I was.

The disgrace

So, it is coming to an end
and the lesson that will not be learned is this:
the occupied people will not love the occupier.
The army of the Kabul government is melting away
the soldiers know. they will even if they won
a battle or two, lose, the Taliban are the people
Of the Pashtun are as strong as hemp.
The west has to live with the knowledge of having lost and work out what can be done.
The women might be the biggest losers
if the Taliban rulers, chose to follow their strict interpretation of the religion,
one hopes not.
So many ruined countries come to mind
Everything the west touches in the east is degraded
to dust, death and rusty weaponry.

If not burned

Hellas is burning the Athens is surrounded by invading fires
no modern weaponry can stop this brutal onslaught.
Greece is far from here, where the Atlantic breeze is cooling
it doesn’t concern us, should it?
Further afield, people have too much water the drown and
become refugees trying to find a safe place.
Are there any safe places left?
Those who think their country is secure will not share
it with the driftwood coming to their shores.
California is burning villas made of timber are matchboxes
for the rich to feels the heat, but does it make them kinder.
Of course, it has nothing to do with us, we who live in a place
where the breeze from the north Atlantic is cooling.
In this time of life, the pandemic is just the beginning
of a total breakdown of the world we knew, the day may
Come when Afghanistan is a relatively safe place to go
as it has no flooding to speak of but has plenty of drugs
to pass the time while waiting for a fire to reach us.

Nature is acceptance

Three hatchlings in a nest high up a tree,
It was time to fly the mother had stopped feeding them.
So small the wings, so far to the next tree,
The first one tried and made it looked embolden,
the next one to try landed on the ground but was able
to find a branch of a tree.
The third one was not made the heroic stuff, it hesitated
too long and when it did it ended up a vat of water
meant for the sheep, where it drowned.
Forgotten by mother and siblings it was only sentimental
humans who felt the sadness of the scene.

The pursuers


Under the celestial awing
there are degrees of darkness
stygian and silky night-blue.
Secret light seeps out of hurts
soon absorbed by night´s hue.
By the quay, lovers watch the light
Commit suicide in dark waters.
Night prowlers with knives
killing someone with a passion
and bath in blood at midnight.

The mist makes you see far.

Driving home, it was late after a clinic visit
the mist hung heavy over the valley that looked like a different landscape.
I might as well drive in Bhutan, a place where mad royals live.
At the dinner table, the prince excused himself, returned with a machine gun
and shot them all, a truly Shakespearian moment.
The prince was declared mentally unfit sent to a secure place
but since he was now a king, he can walk around and be free of relatives, sits in the throne-room
wears a crown and nothing can be done about it.
The French got rid of their royals but not totally some of them still walk around calling themselves
duke or baron, but politicians occupy their splendid castles.
I saw them, the royals of yore moving about in the mist, reminded me
of the ghosts on the island of Saragossa where blind old tars are forever trying to escape back to
the sea where they once were the princelings of the oceans.

Bards and society

Poets are gentle people who like to form a group for writers
with an eccentric title, “a thousand poets against war.”
Poetry is only useful for dictators and those who like to demonstrate how literal they are.
Dictators find them valuable if they extoll the regime
If not, you are exiled or jailed.
Poets are subjected to flattery, the lucky one gets a medal before they die
of consumption.
I was thinking of this when lost in a city, with many statues of generals riding an iron horse.
And a bust of the sensible poet in the entrance of a downtrodden hotel.

Don´t walk on the grass

Do not have thoughts and opinions  
That is not the official western version of democracy.
Do not tell gags that is funny, it will upset someone
that find it invasive and crude
Humour is not comical especially if irony is involved.
We are living in a woke time and like covid disappear
In the meantime, be careful of what you say.

Rainy Belgique  

I will invest in Belgium near Brussel
14% increase in two years, pine tree I think
inferior with a bad reputation.
They make good clogs in Belgium, I thought
clogs were a Dutch affair.
There is not much these between these countries
full of canals and old wind-mills
The tree itself has the appearance of an addict
without an umbrella.
Anyway, Belgium is too small and rainy for a forest
I will collect bad poems and use them to decorate
The out-door loo, the cowshed and other places
Of disinterest

A waste of time

I have been so busy writing
that I have not had time to write.
Ploughing meagre soil
the harvest not enough to feed my heart.
A mountain of words that tell nothing
more than a wall to hide behind.
“what was it all about Alfie?”
A question that has no answer.
My August casts long shadows
and the famine continues.

The failed Revolution

In my childhood´s town, there was a blue neon sign
On top of a five-level building, “Jesus Saves”.
I asked my mother what “saves mean.
Souls, she said without looking up as she was reading
the communist manifesto dreamed of the day when workers would take over the factories
and throw the obese capitalists into prison.
She tried to emigrate to the Soviet Union. but she was turned down
she had no skills other than putting sardines into tins.
Mother made gruel that day, and I was allowed to scrape the brown sticky residue in the ***.
A famous over-rich capitalist sits in jail in Siberia
He has the internet and can talk to his friends. I wonder what
my mother would have thought of this.
He had been found guilty of stealing his oil
to avoid taxation.
No, not, the revolution mother was dreaming of.

The transferable tourist

The old ship striped like a rusty zebra
one, that has survived the big storms and attacked
by sea monsters how she still floated was a mystery.
From one obscure port to another, her captain had
forgotten how it felt to be sober.

She was like an old horse that knew its way by instinct.
Offloading clandestine crates, rats in the cargo hold.
When did the vermin come, and what was their destiny?
Morning in La Plata, tonight we will go ashore
in Buenos Aires eat fresh meat and dance the tango

Cobwebs of the impossible

It was a clear day…too lucid, perhaps.
Mother sat in the kitchen; the sunlight made her white hair into a halo.
I asked how old she was?
Ninety-two, she said I knew this was not true she didn´t live that long.
By the slow river, I saw furniture drifting along,
brother said people living downstream went upstream to buy furniture
to save on transport costs they dumped the furniture in the river
and picked up when they came floating by.
Sometimes they lost a table or a commode, a risk we all have to take.
Walking along a soft road in the forest, but something was wrong
I was trapped inside a painting by a mad Russian painter,
Where trees emitted light of wonder, and my mother was 101 years old
I had a knife, cut the painting in half and walked out.
Sometimes the line between reality and subconsciousness merges
perhaps yesterday is today.

Sleeping sun

The audacious sun finally showed up
and green was the winter landscape; I also saw
where the sun sets, behind the carob tree
soundly and snug under a carpet of wildflowers
the sun snoozes till dawn.
Over the easterly range, which is the first defence
against Spanish marauders and the rain on the plane
the clouds were dark blue, more rain tomorrow.
I the fading light musical notes dance down a phone line,
The first flirt of spring?
Should it rain tomorrow, I will not be downhearted
this day will keep me warm for a week or so.

Old animals

When my dog got old, she liked to sit
Beside me on the sofa when I watched Tv.
If I turned the volume up, she grumbled
it disturbed her snoozing.
She became contemplative, apparently
in deep thoughts.
Does a dog know that life is not unlimited?
Can a dog dream of the past how fun it was?
chasing rabbits in the wood.
Or does a dog only live in the now?
Some dog owners put their elderly dogs down
saying they will not see their pets suffer.
Balderdash, they do this because an old dog
is no longer playful and attractive.
Old dogs need more help to get up on the sofa
and are, sometimes,
incontinent.
Get a puppy, oh, so charming happy children
running in the grass.

Spiritual

We hear a person speaks fluently with trained ease
which we later find is of little value.
This person is well-liked as he tells a joke and uses irony
when describing people, he does not like.
We can call him witty.
The person is a politician and knows nothing
about spirituality.
But he knows how to pander to our prejudices.

Spyware

It was no surprise reading Israel run this practice
and sell it to anyone with money to pay.
Israel, this enclave in an Arabic world, is an anomaly
its inhabitant lives in a bubble they call democracy.
It brokers no criticism, not even in its mildest form
and calls people who they find disagreeable:  
antisemitic or haters.
They picked up a golden nugget called victimhood
to the point, they believe the whole world hates them.
Israel is not a victim but a ferociously aggressive state
what will never give up its shabby mentality,
But it can be remedied if other countries stop all trade
with land, whose psyche needs an adjustment.

The dawn, after the rain had trumpet its force on the old roof tiles
it ceased to a soft drizzle harmless and tender.
Yes, I know I should get up at seven steeped as I´m a protestant work ethic.
Overcome by laziness, I slept for two hours more.
In my drowsiness, thought about how our freedom has been restricted by the internet,
our thought and secrets are no longer our property but shared by authorities that want
to know our innermost thoughts.
We are prisoners of an all-embracing society that will not tolerate thoughts
other than banal comments about a friend's birthday.
What we heralded as a great instrument for communication
is perverted and spied on by our leaders.
Free speech only exists for those who have nothing to say and accept living
in the land of the convention.
Nothing can be nobler if we demand our right
not to be censured
and called seditious because we will not be trapped
in the trivial acceptance of perceived lies.

Riches

Once when the river ran slow sunlight, makes stones look like gold,
I threw into the stream a silver engagement ring, among the gold
it looked trite like a poor cousin wearing leftover clothes.
I saw her kiss another man at a restaurant I could not afford to take her,
my misery was total and my disgrace deep.
How deluded I had been, she proffered gold to my silver.
I looked at my ring in the water it looked like a sliver of leftover moonlight
after the ancient gods, bacchanalia.
Forever I will not speak of this to her, a young man's romantic heart.
The river is now a road, and the romance is dust on a pond,
but in the evening glow you can, among the gravel, see a silvery shine
and my heart is glad.

Not of Café Material

I walked into a café, asked the man behind the counter
for a pork sandwich
Wait he, said I´m plucking a chicken.
You can pluck that chicken later after giving me what I asked.
Ok, said and grumbled about difficult old men.
You have to clean your hands, they are feathery, I came here
for a sandwich without chicken fluffs.
I ate, mainly because I was hungry, paid and left.
At the door, I said you better get a job at a chicken factory,
as it is the café business will shut by lack of consumers.
Angrily he threw several bratwursts after me I ducked
like Bush did when a shoe was thrown in his direction,
and the street dogs had a feast.

Heavy Rain

After Christmas, the angels have a bath,
they also have a bath in the summer.
There are more angels now than before the rules for getting in are relaxed.
It is no longer about being a Christian, but about leading a good life
helping others and so on.
Even Moslems are welcome.
It is no longer needed to have an angelic smile. look cherubic and asexual,
golden locks and a fairytale attitude to life.  
Heaven is getting a bit crowded, thus, when they all have a shower
it rains for days and causes flooding.

The story of the young Jesus

Jesus was sceptical of his tribe as a trainee carpenter
he was lousy, could even make a bookshelf, he was bullied for this.
Jesus took umbrage and criticized the establishment of bootlicking priests
whom the Roman occupiers had given them power?
He took to hanging out with a group of radicals of the day
and since he was good with words soon became their leaders.
The groupies, one of the Magdalene, were for the pleasure of the flesh,
although Jesus was fond of this woman, he didn´t show it openly.
Jesus got big-headed thought he could take on the establishment
like when he chased money lenders out of the church.
He was wrong!
He was arrested mocked, and given a thorn crown, but he insisted
he was the proper leader of the people.
they crucified him, but women come to the rescue, healed his wounds
and sent him and Magdalen, the despised ****, to France.
He had seven children and ended his days as a valued goldsmith.

French “The Language of love”

Darling, speak French when we make love
wicked words I don´t understand but has a whispering meaning of delight.
I stand before you with salutial *******, a soldier of love
ready to sacrifice myself in your subterranean pleasure.
Your wishes have to be expressed in French, or the steed will not react
with proper force thinks it is time to return to the stable
On the subway in Paris, I got in the way of a woman who wanted to exit
she swore at me, thinking she said words of love, I kissed her and was arrested.
But soon released when they understood I was a foreigner
lost in the ways of the Gallic idiom.

I never had a rocking-horse

Having read books of rich boys having one, I wanted one too.
I found the tail of a rocking horse, at home, I fastened the tail on the gate into the yard.
I sat on the gate swinging through and thro and for a moment
I was Hopalong Cassidy till the hinges broke and I fell off.
There was no witness to my ignominy.
I removed the tail, the gate had nothing to do with me.
The owner of the property swore said it was the work
of hooligans.
Years later, mother found the tail behind the wardrobe
by then I was nearly an adult and didn´t bother about childish things

South Africa

The rainbow paled in South Africa
the end of apartheid has ended, freedom for all.
Not quite, the poor in Soweto are getting poorer.
The difference it now consists of white poor as well.
The new leadership behave like the old one corruption
and shade dealings.
South Africa is practically a democratic one-party state.
Or was democracy and equality brought on too early?
It takes time.
What is there to say when people riot and burn down
the places where they buy their daily bread and have to walk for miles
to buy milk for their children, other than an act of despair.
Big business is doing well, thank you.
But nothing has been done to alleviate the suffering of the poor.
The rainbow state has lost its lustre.
If you wonder why the poor ran amok was the jailing of Jacob Zuma
Despite his failings, he has an African heart, which the new elite, dipped in white culture,
failed to see.
He is the chieftain dethroned and Africa bleeds.

The games we played

I was busy when you rang, I said, I will ring later.
When later came around I rang you, but you were busy too
had no time to talk.
You will sit by the phone waiting for me to ring,
but hurt by the tone of your voice I will not ring before tomorrow.
So, when I ring you will say something sarcastic
I will slam the phone down.
Sleepless and restless, something has to give
I finally ting you to say “I love you.”  
Empty words, what I would have liked to say was this:
“*******, you silly woman.”
Pretence never lasts our love fizzled out.
So long ago. I can´t remember her face.

The end of a life

There were many flowers on her grave
from family, friends and foes.
They feared her lashing tongue.


The evening and night were cold
in the morning the flowers looked
white and bloodless.

Why does it end like this?
The utter silence it is as she never lived

The morning traffic is heavy
Friday, the week is coming to an end
and no one will ever know here wisdom
the suffering she endured.

If remembered, she was an old woman
who spokes the truth?
No one wanted to hear.

Acting class
When I went to get the last vaccine
my wife came with me, alone I get into a muddle and lose my temper.
The people at the centre treated us like we were made of glass there was a long line of people
but we were ushered in first.
I´m not that helpless and can sit on a chair all by myself
except, I'm an actor at heart, act vague and befuddled and hesitant
when answering questions.
When leaving the guard, at the centre called us a taxi
and let us sit in the shade; when we came home, I jumped out of the taxi
I helped my wife out, my feet didn´t sub along the pavement.

The Unanswered


I look up to the night sky, so vast too big for a mere human
to comprehend.
Why should I be alone in this immensity?
No, there must be something more a ruler of this beauty
How else can I understand?  
Am I, a lone star fading into the universe of none existence?
people seek god, any god, as cosmic loneliness
has no answer.
That is why we turn to religion that offers a simple response
to our foreboding.
Our inability to accept the loss as a natural conclusion
of being born into conscious life.
To know how wondrous the world is.
O, the splendour of the night, what is the beauty I will not see?
In the end, the sun goes on shining, rain falls every spring
flowers bloom as our quest goes unanswered.
What´s left is silence.

The night I died
I was not asleep, this was not a nightmare
my eyes were open as I struggled to wake up
from the deep hole of sleep.
I had sunk into a sinkhole of sleep
that could only end in unconsciousness drifting into death
helpless as an autumnal leaf falling off an oak.
With all my might with every fibre of my aged body
I heaved myself to the surface.
I landed on the wooden floor
tried to get my breathing under control
My wife came running, asked what happened?
Nothing dear, nothing at all.
I was looking for a coin that fell out of my pocket
when *******.
My head was still fuzzy by unwanted sleep.
I had died, but it was untimely
my heroic leap out of bed had saved me.

Vaccination

I have had my second shot of the vaccine
but with some trepidation, it appears many professional people
refuse to be vaccinated.
Many say it is out of principle or a religious reason
our cleaner, who is in the Jehovah witness, refuses out of religious grounds.
I bet the cleric in the protestant church where the first
to be inoculated, because they do not believe in anything
and lives in perpetual dread of death.
Like some doctors who see their patient die, but not them,
So, they fly in small planes they are not trained for.
When the plane falls from the sky
They say “why me I´m a doctor?”

Armageddon

As I was coming out of the local shop
with bags in both hands, I do this to keep the balance
as I’m elderly and not a steady walker,
When the heatwave like a shimmering wall was
coming towards me.
I turned my back to the inferno of heat as horses do
When the winds blow, but there was no respite.
I believe we have degraded our planet; this is proof.
I struggled home not far was near, but the going was slow
Finally, I entered the building exhausted and dizzy.
The porter took the bags and helped me up some stairs to the lift.
At the flat windows were shut to keep the heat out.
I knew, had I been less fortunate, say, without an abode
the heat, would have killed me.
Sudden heatwaves, unexpected frost freezing fog, hurricane
and burning forests, it might be too late to save humankind.

The Occupiers

Outside, the only road in my village
a horde of carts pulled by skinny horses full of furniture and children
demanded access.
Our great grandfathers built this house we have
the right of return.
I contemplated giving them the shed but knowing they would
demand a larger part of the house, thought it best to resist
my thought of being kind.
The people outside were of Roman ancestry and had lived
in this area for hundreds of years and had been harassed wherever they went
It was time to take back the village and the right to defend ourselves
I rang the police, fifty officers came and disbursed the crowd
and a guard post erected at the entrance.
I normally have a liberal heart, but in this case, I had no empathy
by those who tried to make me homeless

the crying


Silent tears fill eyes
From a well deep inside
Regrets.
A life lived but not fulfilled.
Silent tears fill eyes
Love not received
Love not given.
Silent tears fill eyes
The sound of a plane afar
Will it ever land.
Silent tears fill eyes
If not dreams
Will fade and flowers wizen.
On the steps a child
Looked towards the morning sun
Her heart was full
Of love and future.
A bomb falls when it stops
The child will be no more.
Silent tears for the cruelty
That kills children.

The past are memories
Going back to my old house in Algarve was a sad affair,
we took the old road it is a bit longer but less speedy and free.
The motorway also cost a lot of money in toll and for those who use it
driving big cars, like BMW and Mercedes, for them, the trick is to
minimize the time it takes driving from A to B.
The village was empty I saw no one and nobody came out to say halloo,
except for the village idiot and his dog, the cur is always delighted to see me
I play with it strokes its stomach and play hide and seek.
The friends I had were either died, moved away or lived in an old people' home.
The idea was to send the furniture to some people who needed them
but the white van never showed up.
In the end, we decided to leave the furniture to the new owners
I was only interested in the full bookshelves, unfinished manuscripts
and a few original paintings.
We tried to make lunch at the house, but it was heavy going, mostly
we had lunch in the nearest small town.
I got an old TV going, only had a few canals which consisted of football.
Football and more football.
To think I loved living here, now it was a nightmare.
I tried to walk in the woods walking on overgrown paths, falling over
olive roots, and worst of all, the small lake where the dog and I used to swim
was fenced in, for a reason the baffled me.
We needed help; old age had defeated us.
Driving back to Cascais, we took the old road since it was slow and had
many good cafés I had to check my diabetes in case it fell too low.
The travel took 7 hours, rest breaks and food,
my wife was the co-driver, so are all women, don´t drive too fast,
There is a car in front of you and so on.
Otherwise, it was an enjoyable outing.

The beauty of lies.

Darling tell me lies tell them gently
Lies are so much softer than the cruel truth
that leaves behind the cold taste of winter storms
demanding the truth, we rather forget about it.
You slept with a man two days ago, I have been told.
if it was a sudden fling,
we can laugh about it and for a good meal.
However, if you tell me, you have been seeing him behind
my back for many months, I will see it as a betrayal.
I will not condemn you, but you will be ignored, for all time
I will never speak to you again.
While I walk the streets and crying roof panes,
wondering why I had done to let you down.

The water well
There is near the houses a deep well
you can´t stick a bucket on a rope many ropes are needed.
They used to hire a man usually the village idiot
to spend his life hauling up buckets of water.
Villagers believed the water came from the Yanjing river
A man who had gone to school disagreed; it is a deep
underground river, he said. For this, he was disliked.
One day he fell down the well, but since it was not
manmade and smooth a big stone sticking out saved him
from falling all the way down.
Broke his leg in the fall, he did.
With a dangling leg he had to claw himself up, however
they gave him water to drink, his struggle made him thirsty.
When he got out, he spoke a strange language
the villagers, thought was Chines, it never struck them
he was stark raving mad.
Now, an electric pump was installed, they saw him limping
out of the village talking gibberish.

The absence

He was trapped on a carousel
that went around and around, never stopping.
For him, every day was a new day
he had lost the ability to remember yesterday.
A woman, who said she was his wife
gave him coffee and breakfast and which made him happy.
Every day he watched the same movie and it was for him
a new movie he must have seen hundreds of times.
There was a family meeting, his wife was so old and tired
he had to go to another home, this distressed him greatly.
In the afternoon he sat in a room with many elderly people
watching a movie, his brain told him he had never seen.
In a clear moment, a light was switched on, it dawned on him
this was not his home.
He cried then, before sinking back to his absence

A Gentleman´s Alexandria

His wife came into the living room looking sideways
she had brought cold beer and snacks.
She walked back to the kitchen where their four daughters sat.
This was a modern household; his wife wore no vail.
When we left the children had disappeared, just as well
I don´t know how to speak to the young ones.
My Egyptian friend took me to a nightclub, music and noise
not to forget belly dancers.
My friend soon left with one of them, and that was ok,
I had been his cover for a night out, and all bills were paid for.
Strange man, the shipping clerk, he had four daughters but no boys and that made him sad.

Crossed lines
Why are quiet evenings not enough
the mind will not slow down or make sense
in the blinking light of thoughts.
Wine is of no use the brain turns into ruby.
I must hurry, catch thoughts before they
turns into banalities.
The night waits for me to articulate the mystery of art.
I have to nail down words that are always
a bit paler than the ones thought of.
Once again, I have given birth to an ugly duckling
but I will not send them into the abyss of delete,
I will wait till they can walk unaided before sending
them into the world.

The fly

Mother had gone to work
I, a precautious child, was ill and at home.
By the window I caught a fly
pulled its wings off to see how long it would survive.
It didn´t.
Overcome by guilt I burrowed it in a *** plant.
When mother came home, I told her,
I think I wanted to be punished for my sin
she said nothing.
It is easy to love a new-born lamb or a cute kitten
but all life is here for a reason.
It is unsightly life that tests us as human beings.

A tomato Video

Conversation with an omelette you can, if it is filled with tomatoes.
Apparently, trees talk to flowers a tomato soaks up this information
gives it to us when we eat one. After going on about tomatoes
the lecturer cuts a tomato in half and we hear a scream
the speaker declares he has two tomatoes plus a ****** finger.
Many videos’ maker's dreams, is to stand alone on a stage and talk about
things the makes no sense to others other than themselves.
They thank, the audience who are blissfully absent, and blend
into the dark background convinced they are famous.
Spending an evening looking through videos, I determined after due deliberation,
they were inane and utterly dreary.
Their point was to stay under the spotlight, applauded by phantom fans,
their mother and aunts for a few minutes.
Finally, I struggle to know what a tomato makes out of being eaten alive!

A bluebottle’s tale.
Flies, dark a biblical curse flew, over Alexandria
darkened the sky and hummed hell´s song.
This was not butterflies, in a summer glade.
A bluebottle got to a small hole in the window
they were bringing profanity upon the world.
I looked into its intelligent eyes a soldier drafted
to bring wars and hunger to the world,
(No, not a locust plaque that for its own sake
headless exists.)
to make wars and split nations into many pieces.
God had fated humans should remove each other,
he had made the error given humanity free will
and refused to be held responsible for this fault.
Since we are at the foothill of doom
His will be done.
A new breed of mankind, with small brains and no imagination.
of a Zarathustra or Jung, to give us the idea that we deserved
a better way to find harmony and everlasting niceness.

Food Revolution in England

That was what a middle-class paper wrote
and it could not be more wrong.
To eat this esoteric food, you need a thick wallet.
most people in England are poor and since
the food industry has taken over
People, eat pizza, fish and chips and occasionally a Chines meal of chicken and rice.
They have unlearned how to cook a nourishing simple meal.
Yes, we need a deep social revolution.
The paper in question “the Guardian” appear not to notice
the rampant poverty we live in,
Instead, they talk about luxury restaurants where you need a workman´s wage to enter.
To write this article is fraudulent, pandering to the haves
and poking their noses at the hungry in the street.

UFO

I believe UFO exist it would be strange if they didn´t
considering the many planets in the vast galaxy.
I have not seen a UFO person close up with the exception
of my face in the morning before coffee.
The picture I have seen is always at a distance
and tend to be grainy.
Some people insist they have been captured by UFO,
analyzed and sent back to earth again presumable because
the UFO being found them of no interest.
The UFO world does not call us human but the strange
blubbery beings with a penchant for killings and fighting wars.
They, the UFO is petrified by us keep their distance
hence “grainy photos.”
Still, I believe the UFO people are a friendly sort all we have
to do is to stop wars, be polite and they will come to us
not necessarily in human form, and show us how it is possible
to move so fast through space and defy gravity.

What fame can do

Parked outside the local supermarket I saw a Rolls Royce
I straighten my shoulder and walked in with dignity.
The staff looked tense like an Imam had visited a church sermon.
Then I saw him, a tall elegant man deeply tanned, I can´t say black
anymore, but my wife comes from Kinshasa.
He walked around the shop looking at things unnerving us,
finally, he bought an apple, ate it on his way to the rolls,
Threw the apple core away entered (open-topped)
And drove away.
The staff was relieved, told me he was a famous actor,
It is not every day such an elevated personality visited our shop.

Silent grass clippers
Why must lawn movers make such a noise?
Why do people with a garden seek to make an outdoor carpet?
Why people seek to make lawns look like an arrested childhood?
We can understand football stadiums, the ball runs faster
and the players do not stub their delicate feet on mature grass.
One day grass will give up growing turn into sand pits a place
For children to build sandcastles.
as big signs telling us not to walk on the grass?
This is not nature but humans trying to tame the natural world.

Dark life matters

Woke up in the night it was very dark
put a hand out couldn´t see it.
I wonder how it is to be blind?
In this flat, if no one rearranges the furniture
it would be easy, find the kitchen too.
Opening the fridge is a breeze, it is of no interest
if its light comes on or not.
Remember to clean your hands!
On nights like this, I should be contemplating my death
but my vanity gets in the way.
Should I smile or look grim, and would they remember
to put tanning cream on my face?
I friend of mine who works at the local supermarket is black and carries his skin with pride,
is always glad to see me.
How can you drive at your age, he asks?
Easy, I feel my way.
He finds this hysterically funny.
If I stopped at a handicapped place and a police officer
asked me why I parked there.
I park here because I'm handicapped.
You don´t look handicap, he will say.
I will take off my sunglasses and say, officer, I´m blind.

The horror of the night

I had rented a room in the town of Puerto Lemon
in wonderful Costa Rica.
I was going to have an affair with stewardesses
but since the crew came from one of the ******
gossiping little coastal towns in Norway,
we had to be discreet.
From the darkness of the night and into the light
in the room, flew a wonderful insect.
It was made of gold and the size of a cockroach,
the unsightly insect that once had been human
but had committed a grave sin and in his anger
God had turned them shuddering ugly creatures.
Out of the cracks in the floorboard burly ants came
attacked and ate the golden beauty.
It only took a few minutes then they disappeared
back to their hiding places.
I awoke the woman who was fast asleep,
we walked back to the ship, she first, I took longer.
Needed a drink at the nearest bar to overcome
the horror I had witnessed.