Tanka like
we the classless
seek no revolution, only fairness
we like quality
a well- balanced diet
And cold German pilsner.
The stinking rich,
one assume they do not have bath often,
can continue to pong
we seek no egalitarianism
but cold German lager

The Smallness of things
There are not many elephants left on the savanna
Near the houses graceful nature has made them
Smaller with tusks not bigger than an oxen's horn
And can hide in the bushes or look like a tree if
People come near.
They are hunted by people who would like  
To have an elephant's head on the wall.
With so many humans being killed everywhere
Why should I care about elephants, it is just they
Are my friends and when leaning against a tree
That is an elephant’s flank there is a contact
Between us and an understanding that we are
Both a dying breed, like tigers and lions
Cute Vietnamese pigs and flying genii that will you
No harm, it is not it’s their fault having black wings  
And screams as when a barrel bomb hits its target
Startled I wake up and there is blood on the carpet.

The resurrection

It was a shoe box, black on the outside and white inside,
I had a puppy dog, it was run over, and it was so very still.
Funeral in our neighbour's garden, we used the shoe box.
I told my audience how much I missed the dog, and how
funny it had been, sang religious songs and went home.
In the evening we hear a scraping at the kitchen door,
mother investigated, I was afraid of ghosts, in she came
with the puppy and there was a wonder in the air.
The puppy was spayed and lived to be eighteen years.

A lover's lament

By austere shore
I linger.
Look skyward
try to read the pattern
of a rapidly
changing sky.
Light and dark
painted the sea
first grey
and then blue again
I call your name,
because you are
where sea and heaven
merge.
To read your silence,
I must first understand
what is in my heart?

Brexit 2

They don't get it the politicians
why people voted to leave.
there is and rightly, so a deep
discontent among people, the see
their water, gas, train and bus prizes
privatised by pirates.
There is a revolt in the air, the Brits
are tired being led by the nose
by a capitalistic system that long ago
ceased to be a democratic, free vote is not
democracy and EU has nothing to offer
only more dictates.
The Brits know the future can be tough
(As tough as it is now,) but at least
It is their choice, and there be better
days to come when they throw the shackles
off, walk free towards a new down as equals.

Alone in the night


During the night I had no angst
but my teeth hurt and sleep had gone truant
Time is relative the clock on the stand
appeared to have stopped checking the time
in the living room, it was 2 minutes faster.
Four in the morning too late for a glass of wine
not a common drunk, got nothing to hide.
When awake the toothache had gone for now
it was overcast nine o'clock and gloomy

Me To!

The corniest
Less sincere slogan
Ever written
By fake Hollywood stars
Who has?
Been doing and will
Be doing
Anything
To become famous

The oddity of the truth
To shift through information
And false intelligence
Delivered by men in suits
Paid lackeys reading from a cue
Semitic voices
Feeding the air way
With hatred
Compliant press repeat the untruth
Rill, we believe
Wax lilies in the pond is real

The Savannah
The wildebeests have been crossing the same stretch
of the river for years going back into a foggy history and lack
of interest. At the river, some are eaten by crocodiles  
and on the other side by lions. Meat on hoof and
a calf cannot find its mother, Gnus don’t do friendly and
there never is a sympathetic aunt. It must find its mother
now, because it has been earmarked as a possible meal,
easy to catch, no bother.

Did that calf survive? I don’t know history does not concern
itself with trivialities and as for its mother her memory is
short. A dumb beast, yet there are more wildebeests in
Africa now than twenty years ago which means fewer lions
and more crocodile handbags than before, which means
the calf probably survived

Mortal Man

The water broke
Jubilation
Soon a child be born
The pain
Has gone
The battle
Is done
Can't see or speak
Slowly life
Ebbs
And a life
Is extinguish
Sometime
The unspoken
Relief
Is etched
In mourners
Faces

At the end of a fjord

The fjord was long and dark
on both sides, hard granite could not soak up the sun
it was like descending into hell.
But the fjord arm opened and at the bottom
could be seen a small village with red-painted houses,
the people here at been isolated from outside influence
for many years and everyone looked the same,
alas, some were giggling idiots.
I big piece of rock fell off the dark mountainside caused
a tsunami that washed the village away and there
were no survivors, except one who didn't have the brain
to tell what befell, at the time of the accident he
had been high up in the valley to get the cows home.
The village was moved higher up, and new people moved in,
today it has an airport and has joined modern life

the horse of dreams

I never had a rocking horse, but having read
about rich kids having one, I wanted one too.
On a dump, I found the tail of a rocking horse
fastened the end to the gate into the yard.
Sitting on the gate, swinging through and thro
and for a moment, I was Hoppalong Cassidy
till the hinges broke, I fell off.
The owner of the property swore, thought
it was the work of hooligans.
Years late, mother found the horsetail behind
the wardrobe, by then I was grown up
and didn’t bother with childish things.

To be the best

My husband is Europe's best salesman
she said proudly.
What does he sell? Things, she said.
What things? Well, many different things.
Putin is a good seller of hopes, I said.
Who is Putin? A man who sell dreams
and other things, I have never heard of
him does he sell houses too.
Reflecting upon “things” Brexit came
to mine, people didn't want to buy it
founds “things” a burden importing stuff
they could produce themselves.
“Don't look a gift horse in the mouth,” she did
And found it had many rotten teeth
needed a dentist to extract them.
I like fish& chips a man chimed in and for French
Cheese! I never bought one, what's wrong with
Gouda?  (Geography not his strong suit) and for
wine, I rather have a pint of lager.
So it is settled then (never mind the street talks)
we are half out but also half in.
Can we say Theresa May is a great salesperson?

My Lovely
I wrote your name
On an autumnal leaf
And let it blew away in the wind
Now you are forgotten
But only your name
I hear your whispering in my ears
On cold brisk days.

Laughter

They were young at the stage when old people
But not your granny look funny, those young faces looking
Or perhaps not into the future without any trepidation
I enjoyed their laughter even if it was directed at me with
Hair was sticking out of my baseball cap; they looked edible.
I knew with resigned sadness when they came to age I would
Be no more and they would stop laughing and face
A future of devastation, need and hunger and many of them
Perhaps most die of wars no of their making but of what
Political leaders decide today
Despite this foreknowledge, I would like to be there
And laugh with the survivors.

The bus driver and a rowing boat


I remember a song “A slow boat to China”
There was a man a bus driver who took his wife on holiday to Spain
where his wife ran away with a shepherd
The bus driver went home alone but had the house which exploded
(a gas leak) when he sat on the loo; he was unharmed but somewhat
embarrassed. When the insurance money, came he bought a rowing boat
which had a mast and he could set sail when the wind was right.
He landed in Falmouth before the winter storms.
When spring came he rowed and sailed to the island of Neves where
he met John Cleeve, who wrote a funny article about the brave man
and suddenly the bus driver was famous.
The rich people in Neve gave him money which put in a bank
(there are so many banks) when he went to the bank to draw
out money for an ice-cream, he found he was a millionaire.
High finance is a mystery and something had gone wrong
not for him to ask questions, but he did transfer the money
to a Swiss bank and took the first plane back to Europe.
The bus driver is now a prosperous cattle farmer in Andalusia.

The road
It is a long highway
Trees on both sides.
I walk
No cars or busses my way
The road seems never-ending
Will I find
My approach to the little cottage
Also, happiness.
A vista opens
A warm summer day
With my tribe
We understood the unsaid.
They look at me
From a hazy distance
Moreover, ask
What took you so long.

Alfred like dogs

Alfred, my father who steadfastly refuse to be one
had bought four sausages, and was frying them when I came in,
but papa I said you are a vegetarian, yes he said two are for you
and two are for the dog that hangs outside the restaurant
where he plays the piano, it needs reassurance and food.
Alfred chuckled to himself, and I was not sure if I should feel
offended, but let it slide seeing him wrapping the sausages
in tin foil, for the dog that doesn’t belong to him.

New Time

Temporal tears dripped off the wall clock onto the floor,
in a pool of time, I swam to the bottom to find the light where it began,
but I didn’t have the stamina or the will to find a new illusion.
When I surfaced, it was late afternoon, and soon the sinful sun will paint the sky pink; afar,
by the foot of the hazy mountain, a pair of leather clad cowhands gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes.

The Food & Drink
I read about onions it isn't fattening
only it smells so beautiful when fried it is tempting
to add a burger or sausage and that's fattening.
Fried onion added to Thais soup is out of dreamland,
I'm hungry but had to wait two hours, because if I eat it now
I will be starving later. My dream is to eat and drink what I want
and as much I want, alas, life isn't quite like this
Excesses are lovely and we ought to do something
extreme once in life before we end up eating soup for lunch
with water and no wine.

Donations
  
  Every week I'm asked for donations
  for worthy causes although my sympathy
  is for the reasons such as the plasticization
of the oceans, the vanishing bees and etc.
I find myself unable to send money firstly
because I have only a small pension if I could
I would have sent money to everyone.
My only offer is to write about the havoc
we are causing to our world, and I shudder
to think when our excreta becomes packed
in plastic and the fish drowning in our
pollution that so quickly can be stopped.

The Nordic Tribe

There is a great movement of Scandinavians
going to the South of Europe, they have their church,
cafes and shops selling the type of food sold in
the North. The Spaniards, say, accept and ignore them
because these strange northerners came here for
the sun and not take anyone’s work.
You can call the economic refugees, it is cheaper here
and that also keeps the heating bill low.
The people of the North dislike refugees coming to their
country a place to live and they protest loudly.
One day, when the economy in the south is par with
the Nordic one, the will leave, or seek other shores
where they can live as kings among the poor;
the Northerner’s are racists by nature but do follow
the money and its fluctuations and they have the ability to
see the local people where they have temporarily
sought shelter, as foreigners.

The people prevails

This day dark clouds are hanging over us they didn't move
making the day into night. The old people say they have never
seen a day like this, as God Catholics make the sign of the cross.
The end is near. Women wear scarves tightly on their heads,
to protect their hair against the sun and the weather.
The Queen of England used to wear a scarf; she doesn't do that anymore.
Lest people think she is a Muslim.
The hate against all thing Islamic has not reached our village yet.
Jews and Arabs used to live in harmony in Spain, then came the Christian
horde and brought ****** and disharmony.
Who is going to rule?
For the people, this means little they till the soil and pray to God to tell
and pray to a god of their choice to lead them, which now is a God
of dubious morality, a pope and empty promises.
In the end, the clouds parted and the night was starlit.

Love, ***, and Religion

Why should I tell you this, again and again, this love story of despair?
Entwined, our bodies wrapped together as one, her sea green eyes exuding love and my innocence was total.
slowly shells fell from my eyes I had been sleeping in a bed
soiled by many men, in this warren of inequity.
I begged her to stop this behaviour, but she said she was a free spirit
and could do as she pleased, and I closed my eyes and waited till she
had time to see me, but was no good!
The thought of other men ******* in the bed of love was too,
much; threw up at my disgust, on this bed of dissipations.
Her pursuit of gratification was voracious, for many she was but a *****,
I loved because she once said she loved me.
She is old now her lovers gone, she sought refuge in an evangelical sect,
and once again I lost the woman I loved

The Enigma


Some children rescued from the hell in Syria
came to the west where the got a good education,
which made them realize their rescuers were
also, the enemy who had bombed and strafed
killing their relatives.
The rediscovered they were Arabs and the culture
of the west was contrary to the Koran, so they
thought of bringing the war to us with a vengeance.
What we have done to the Arab people, even giving
them the bleeding wound called Israel is not and can
not be forgotten; the decision made by the few to
wedge war in the Middle East is a price the man and
the woman in the street, are paying.

The army intruder

I live near a stream that has been running dry for years
into a winter lake that has been drained to a helicopter pad
trees around wear dusty uniforms.
There is edginess in Europe after many years of peace
the warrior monster is waking up.
The monster is ****** erratic and can strike at any time
asks for more weapons.
We think we know who the enemy is, as usual, but we are wrong
as we listen to the voice of antagonism.
A new page of history is written; we must make a choice
Not wait till millions of people are killed, the last bomb dropped
when a poet writes about the war, be “the guardian famous.”
The new peace will only last so long because the human mindset
is set on war; this is our tragedy.
The voice for peace is as puny as children cry in the symphony
of the battlefield.

Flying high

I fall through the air so dense can´t see a thing
opened up my big, black umbrella
descended in an orderly fashion.
A scythe of a moon gave enough light I could see the coastline
the dark menacing sea was waiting.
Landed on dry ground walked through a mono-cultural landscape
at the sound of endless Fado seeping up from the earth.
A maze of orange trees that bore a fruit no one bothered about
artificial juice can be bought anywhere.
From a hilltop, I could see my cottage noticed the yard light was still on
this hurt my frugal nature.
I heard the din of a desultory air-plane circling around
looking for a missing passenger.

A conceited restaurant

After the health clinic visit in Cascais
We had lunch at a restaurant nearby
Where the outdoor market is
It was overpriced and pretentious
The food, so and so.
Had a glass of wine it was undrinkable
Had a cold bottle of water instead.
There are many proper small restaurants
In Cascais, they appear not to be
Near the centre.
A few days ago, near the post office, we had
Splendid meal and it was reasonably priced
With not too many tables and people I have
fear of crowds this inane nattering about
Nothing, just meaningless noise.

Her old head
Upon a pillow lie
I held her hand
She withdrew her
Hand
Looked
Into a distant
Past
And said
I wish you were
Your brother

The Catering officer
Once upon a time, I was a ******; I began as a galley boy
and after six months was promoted to the second cook,
What dizzying height. At home, I went to a catering school for cooks
and later on, a course to become a chief steward.
For three years I slaved as a chief cook on ships it was
hard and boring and then I was promoted to Chief steward
they use “chief” a lot in the merchant navy, this to make you feel
important, but in the end, you are a ******* slave.
My job was that of a purser doing the books buying what was needed
as cheap as possible and see to it the cook was reasonable sober.
This new job gave ample opportunity to read I wore a white shirt
with three silver stripes on which caused me endless embarrassment
as I dislike uniforms in civilian life. The first ships I was on had a selected crew,
proper people saving up to buy a house with a big garage when
I was dreaming of going ashore and meet exciting people.
This entire nicety unnerved me, and I tended to be rude one can
say I didn't fit in, so my next ship was less posh and from
there it was downhill all the way until I ended up on rust buckets
that birthed at small ports in South America, and I loved it.
Gone was the uniform, but I used a blazer over my T-shirt when
the officials came onboard, served them whisky till they
staggered smiles and handshakes ashore.
But it didn't last the old ships were replaced with container ships
which is nothing but floating barges, so I jumped ship
swam to the Algarve in Portugal and stayed.

History of the people

At the Newmarket, it was the oldest one
in town,  the farmers came with horse and cart selling their produce
Their women folks sold thick long underwear,
handy in winters when the North-westerly blew.
Over the scene of banter and friendly business hung
the aroma of horse and the whiff of a wee dram.
The change to modern time came slowly at first some farmer
had bought trucks it was easier that way and warmer too.
Then one day there were no horses left exhaust fume and rain
time was going a little faster no time for a chat, and I was
fifteen and had other interests.
It was the work- horses that made the Newmarket more pretty.
Oddly enough the iron rings on the fence where horses
were *******, are still there… waiting
for the warm breath of a steed.

An accidental old man

A very old man fell down a hole when he was out
walking looking at the pattern of the clouds.
The earth was loose when he tried to climb up, kept
sliding down, so he sat waiting, and it was evening.
He fell asleep and during the night water from
an ancient sea rose and filled the hole so he could
float holding onto a root, and when the water was
level with the ground he could get up and get out.
The sea that had been trapped so long kept rising
and the valley became a lake and his house which
had been on the high ground a sought-after property,
and he could afford to buy a coffin of mahogany  
with brass handles.

Unlike love story

Sweet dawn you are not
in your embrace I'm not reborn.
A night with you gives birth to bitter regret.
A promise to not seek you out
will not help,
I love you more than life itself.
Nightfall brings long shadows
irresistible your allure,
Our lair is not feathering of tenderness
but thorns of demanding ferocity.
A pact we made in a church that reeked of burnt wicks.
desiccated roses and the redolence of death.
Our love is agony,
we can´t but clawing us asunder

Mystery Tour

I hired a car wanted to drive to the countryside
where I spent part of my childhood.
By a farmhouse that looked familiar, I stopped
a dog came out of an up- ended barrel greeted me,
Is Jason coming home?
The farmer and his wife came out, he patted me
on my head, and his wife gave me a hug and said:
“a little boy once lived here.”

In the kitchen, they gave me two slices of loaf with
blueberry jam on, my favourite food as a child.
The couple had not aged in fifty years and their
eyes I was that little boy
I took my farewells and promised to visit soon.
A bus drove passed throwing up dust and when it settled the couple,
and the farm had disappeared into the mist of time.

This the day I will be lazy and not read and not even attempt
   to write about  spring flowers they will soon disappear and bathers
   who come to stay have sun and sand on their mind
   Flowers do not make themselves beautiful for us but to pollinate,
   attract bees which we stupidly try to **** with pesticide and we'll know
  the shrivel up of nature and hunger.
  I know of a colony of bees in the back yard but I leave them in peace,
  but fear their sting: a bee will never be your friend
What happened to the bumble-bee I saw one big as a helicopter circling
my house it was looking for a place to rest but the sparrow wouldn't let it.
No, I will do nothing today except making a mental map of the world on
the cracked wall on the house opposite mine

Haiku

Beautiful horses
But it is the modest mule
That carries our load

Tidy office building
Busy and efficient place
Kept clean by janitors

Our great cities
Without armies of cleaners  
Uninhabitable

Galloping filly
Bets are on black beauty
The jenny won

We, the conjurers

The USA wants Venezuela
And the worlds' press follow suit
demanding an undemocratic coup.
We have been here before
we remember the vilifying of Iraq
and Libya those two counties were lied about
before being invaded and occupied.
Our compliance with this crime is staggering
and do nothing for peace in the world.

Beer Sonnet

I have a bottle of German beer in the fridge
and naturally cloudy, first brewed in some small town
in Bavaria in 1624.
They didn’t make the beer clear and decided to call
the brew Dunkel (cloudy), PR, yes it existed it worked
now it is a world-famous beer.
It also cost a bit more, which never fails to attract snobs.
I opened the beer dislike the colour me, a Budweiser man
of the type brewed in the USA
A band of clouds was, obscuring the sunset it was Dunkel
a sentence not spoken but sensed even a child could get.
I drank the beer, let the tomorrow keep its secret.

Death of a young man

There is a schooner in the bay flags on half mast
a crew member had fallen from the top of the mast
and since the ship had no freezer he had been
buried at sea. This reminded me of the deckhand
on a boat, I was on he fell down and empty hold
got up insisted he was ok, but the captain called
an ambulance and two hours later he was dead,
At eighteen his passing was senseless. I hoped
his mother had more children to console her which
she wouldn't have had had she been caught up
In the abortion debate believing it was ok only
having one child. Abortion is the quickest way to
depopulate a country; the Israeli knows this and
give black Jews a pill so they can abort, they want
European Jews of the type who becomes good
soldiers and belief in their supremacy.

Forget me not

Rebellious heart
Cast the spell of love
Flirtatious,
Like spring breeze
Lacks boundaries,
Meaningless!
No conclusion!
Shifting shadows
Only walked
By the unhappy

Sobriety
In the beginning, it is like walking on a narrow track
With olive roots over the ground to trip you up and branches
Of trees slapping you in the face, if you fall get up and
Continue to walk to be tired is not an alternative for a rest
The track gets smoother and wider, but it rains muds up to
Your ankles and you have to cross a stream.
After the ordeal you look back and wonder who helped, you inner
Strength the id it stepped in when most needed
Ahead is a shiny asphalted road waiting just for you.
I can't promise you happiness and Hallelujahs,
But promise this when at home and the day was long you
Will smile feel contentment for you have walked the walk,
Your feet are dry and life is not as bad as you thought.

At the end of a fjord

The fjord was long and dark
on both sides, hard granite could not soak up the sun
it was like descending into hell.
But the fjord arm opened and at the bottom
could be seen a small village with red-painted houses,
the people here at been isolated from outside influence
for many years and everyone looked the same,
alas, some were giggling idiots.
I big piece of rock fell off the dark mountainside caused
a tsunami that washed the village away and there
were no survivors, except one who didn't have the brain
to tell what befell, at the time of the accident he
had been high up in the valley to get the cows home.
The village was moved higher up, and new people moved in,
today it has an airport and has joined modern life

When sleep kills


The devil sat on my chest trying to strangle me
I fought back to fall on the floor, and the devil let go
I had fallen into a deep sleep I knew was not natural and my struggle
to wake up from this sleep Apnea had been heroic,
there were claw marks on the wall, and my fingernail had broken
in my effort to break free from Morpheus deadly attack.
My wife had fled the thunderous drama and called for an ambulance
it was not needed I had won the struggle and could sleep lightly
until the morning with delicate hands moved the curtain.

A few words

Absence
Is not a peace
It is possibilities
Wasted


For the old
The stillness holds no peace
Only an echo of the undone


Peace is not an absence of war
Warfare is mechanical
A battle is the one we fight
With our demons.

An accidental old man

A very old man fell down a hole when he was out
walking looking at the pattern of the clouds.
The earth was loose when he tried to climb up, kept
sliding down, so he sat waiting, and it was evening.
He fell asleep and during the night water from
an ancient sea rose and filled the hole so he could
float holding onto a root, and when the water was
level with the ground he could get up and get out.
The sea that had been trapped so long kept rising
and the valley became a lake and his house, which
had been on the high ground a sought-after property,
and he could afford to buy a coffin of mahogany  
with brass handles.

Fear of death
When old is waste
Of precious time

Goodbye Europe

Driving along I saw at a distance what looked
like two dark shadows holding up a smaller wizen shadow,
and I thought without Africa, Europe would have been a more miserable place.
We stole their people from working in fields and factories
we took their minerals and gold and left them destitute.
Now they are coming here, and we offer them a tent,
If you are not a wall climber, a fast track runner or football
hero, we don't want to know.
I the meantime, the population – white tribe- am dying out
We have reached the pinnacle of our evolution, the glass siling  
has broken women prefer driving Mercedes cars and
men turn to each other for succour to be gay is the new normal.
We older and another race must take over our delimitations we are
dying out, we are a curious vanishing race in a sea of colour and strange
manners. Unless Europe wakes up and produces own children
we need immigrants on a massive
scale, if not we become a historical footnote.

Skirmish

                            It turns so fast
from happiness to sadness,
yesterday
was a warm spring day,
then without warning
Cold.
Winter beddings
packed away
we fought
over a blanket
I lost
she is blaming illness.
Today is miserable
a clumsy time
doesn't know whether
to cry or shine.
No internet
that's a ****** shame.

Workless Future

We are fast approaching the time when robots
can do 98% of the work, the middle classes will disappear
altogether; and here is where a universal pay will
kick in someone has to buy what robots make.
But if you think you will get a pay packet every month
you are mistaking it will be in the form of stamps you
can use to buy foodstuff and the more expensive things you
buy, the more stamps are used.
There will be two types of stamps. Blue and yellow the last
for entertainment such as going to a restaurant, if you
use all the yellow ones it is possible to bribe the waiter
to accept the blue ones.
Driverless cars are for monthly rental; you can also save
on stamps and buy one that way.
There will be no election as there are no parties
to elect and the authorities will be a remote entity that
cannot be reached: I wish you well in a life of no work,
except if you are a chef, robots only makes bland food.

Julian Assange

Julian Assange has been arrested
For telling the truth about the crimes
Of the USA's war crimes.
Wimpish Britain will send him
There to face trial
“What Trial?”
The USA can only accuse him of computer hacking
And nothing else
If they do their crimes will be exposed.
Personally, I have a dislike
Of Julian, he is a self- righteous man who
Hate the idea of being wrong.
He should have gone to Sweden and faced
The ***-charges there
And might have been freed for lack of evidence,
The Swedish are not enamoured by the USA
And ignored its request.
His vanity, a simple accusation of improper
****** conduct was too much for him
To tolerate, his lack of humility
Has brought him where he is today.