The new tyranny

             This dawn, after rain had trumpeted its force on the old roof tiles,
it ceased to a soft drizzle, yet I refused to get up before eight,
alas my Protestant work ethic and a full bladder forced me up
from a warm bed, so I made coffee.
I was thinking how the internet has restricted our freedom, secrets
are in public domain, this intrusive faceless monster wants to know
what we think, so the right product can be directed to our email.
Free speech is only possible for those who have nothing to say and
accept living in the land of the convention who accept trivial political lies
swallowed whole without an afterthought.

About poetry

If I feel the poem I read it is ok
if it makes me laugh that's good too
if it makes me cry alright
if it is pompous I stop reading

The Marine world
The fish world is like a horror movie
they can't sleep at night or play during the day
The small fish is hunted by bigger fish
that again is chased by sharks and dolphins.
The whale that is not a fish lives in relative safety
because of its size, but is hunted by with harpoons that tear into flesh colouring the sea, red.  
Many people are defending the whale, not so many
are concerned by the humble sardine, if you swim
in a school of sardines, they will do you nothing, the same
cannot be said if you meet octopuses with their
arms break your bones and swallow your whole.
I prefer to bath in a swimming pool where the bottom
is painted blue and it no deep than, say, four feet.

Bianca Jagger

Now there you have a woman with integrity
she had her youth was a film actor and lived a festive life
married Mike Jagger, he must have bored her stiff
And naturally, it ended in divorce.
The divorce settlement gave her the freedom to be herself
and she has been a tireless advocate for the oppressed.
Right now she is fighting to have president Ortega removed
and I hope she will succeed.
She has also defended the plight of the Palestinians plight
this caused an uproar from the Zionist which called her anti-Semitist
So lately she has concentrated on other causes.
She is a great advocate against injustice and fight for them always.

January  Seaside

The yellow sanded beach has been washed
by the sea and is now free of human debris,  
such as forgotten sunglasses, suntan oil and
empty bottles of noxious soft drinks.

It is just there reborn, drying in the winter
sun, yet to be stepped on by man above,
large, sanitary seagulls crossly shrieks, warn
us not to trespass on their domain

A trip to Wales

I was driving among hillocks; the landscape was green
it was spring and sheep-dipped in coal dust, grazed
with their offspring
Parked near a pub in a hamlet, it had a name
I could not get my tongue around it and enter
into a dark interior.
The few customers ignored me yet eyed me
perhaps they thought I was English looking to buy a cottage.
I drank powder coffee in a sea of Welshness
my foreignness disturbed me
and the locals.
I left.

Haiku
In the Middle East
Firecracker holds no allure
People want accord

Dream night

My wine glass is full of moonlight,
drank and floated dreamily, on a carpet of night.

Couldn’t resist the moon’s pull, my home bathed
in a spectral light, both beautiful and mortal.

Flowers in the garden were deadly pale, olive trees wore
silver capes of unrelieved sorrow

This nocturnal landscape isn’t to my liking, put me down,
red, green and golden are my colours

But I did glimpse, behind the tall mountain, night’s ultimate
sacrifice, giving birth to dawn

Writing a poem

You can read hundreds of books by famous writer
and learn of their stories how to write.
You can read other poets work and learn the craft
of poetry, there are so many styles, in the end
you can sit down and write a perfect poem and
it will be admired for its style and perfection,
yet by doing so, it is still not a proper poem
because the poet is hiding his emotion and honesty
in aptness that is a barrier to the truth
For without the integrity and passion the poem
will be a perfectly executed poem, it may win laurels
and win in a competition, but it is still words that
will remain so as a demonstration of the art of writing
but it will never be a poem.

History lesson
All that means nothing is pearls on a neck one means nothing
but many of them tell a story of inequity the Palestinians have lost the propaganda war  
so what about it there will be a large Israel with two religions
Big deal history changes fortunes, and progress without our opinion.
Yet all this nothingness no one reads about is the unwritten history
as things are should the Palestine people by fortune and luck win the race for power
there will be useful idiots like me defending the right
of the Zionist to have their exclusive land, but not in our backyard.
We do not anything but will protest in the Guardian but do little about is as
we do nothing about the settlers on the west-Bank.
In the end, it means nothing as wars continue and people think
The god is on their side because some prophet said so.

Death of Arnold

My best friend Arnold died,
he was only nine and three quarters.
In a white casket laid and his hair
was combed for once.
His lips painted
(he should only have known)
Rouge on pale cheeks.

Arnold was going up to Jesus, that's
what the grownup said; he didn't
Look as he was going anywhere
I felt embarrassed the way they
had dolled him up.

Death is strange I knew it was Arnold,
but was aware he was an empty shell
mother hung the picture on the wall,
a reminder, she said.
When my brother died she took
the picture down.

The Colonel

It was early morning and cold
He looked towards the long landscape of sand
the rebels had won with the help of al-Qaida,
and NATO bombs.
Someone somewhere had condemned him to death.
As he prepared to leave the sun arose as did
French helicopters shooting the shreds his caravan
and he was left at the mercy of the terrorists

Insubstantial

I opened, one early morning the window in the door,
and was met with a face that looked like a cloud; it
blew frost roses on the glass, they were so beautiful,
abstract, and oh, so fragile.
Years ago by the cloister's wall, I saw some miniature
looking roses, I replanted them in my garden, they
disappeared I thought they had died out, but this spring
they were by my wall nodding shyly in the breeze.
As the spring turned into summer, they had no shade
and disappeared like frost roses on the window glass;
and that is ok by me, cause I know they are there just
under the earth waiting for another spring.

Abortion

A pregnant woman can do as she likes, yes, I too believe
In a woman's right; but a pregnant woman has the responsibility
of a new life growing inside her and it is paramount that
the beginning of life has the right to be born.
It is often single, uneducated women who get into the predicament  
instead of making her into a killer, we should help to give her
economic help so she and her child can live with dignity.
Women who are busy breaking the glass ceiling when finding
themselves pregnant have an abortion as a matter of course, and
in the name of success commit ******.
I'm also against adoption it is a capitalist invention, take from the poor
and give it to the rich, and it is of no help, as the birth mother will regret it
and the child when an adult will ask, why did my mother give me away?

Modern Transport

The new silk route is exciting
from Pekin to Paris takes a week on a train
fully laden with shoes, dresses, toys
and tightly packed wads of dollars for politicians
The travel is free but you must be prepared
to eat canned soup and Peking duck, for a week,
but you can take pride by doing
the passing of solid waste in 15 countries.

The day Charles's mask fell off.

Charles Rose, a predator? He looks so harmless
on the screen, a person of high intelligence talking to Psychiatrists
like he was one of them, and then he does THIS!”
Men are more predatory than women it is an instinct, look at
the lion, why it kills little lions, yeah that is what I mean it is stupid
But a lion wants all the lionesses, that's predatory.
Thanks to our rapacious predisposition we have gone from using
flint axe to nuclear weaponry; why are men so stupid?
If you think of Israel as a man and Palestine as his long-suffering wife,
you have got it right. Hear her demands to be treated as an equal.
Charles Rose walking naked to his shower in front of women, did he think?
His 75 years old body was ****? Charles, I used to watch your program twice a week when I see you now I can't stop giggling.

Winter Sea.

The sea is calm, sullen and pale cuffing against
the hull of my ship lazy as oil;
woolly clouds are panic stricken
running southward as followed by a pack of wolves.
There is a surge as the gloomy
sea begins to heave, too late now to reach a safe
haven, a tranquil Nordic bay.

We can’t escape as billows do it is getting
darker the ship shakes as a drunk sobering up;
to get through coming days
I’ll to seek solace in dreams of forest and lakes,
glades and silvery
carpets of glowing butterflies.
As for the ship, she can pretend to be a swan.

Haiku
The **** crows at four
I listen to its keen caw
Then sleep till eight

The farmer is up
Starts his infernal tractor
I smell diesel fume

At eleven o'clock
The fishmonger's white van tootles
Soon it will be lunch

The Divine Victims

There have been so many battlefields mostly forgotten
there was Iraq, Syria, Afghanistan Libya, among the many
battles and millions of dead civilians some were children
Yemen is a graveyard for children killed by Saudi bombs
Yes, the same nation we do business with.
Myanmar, ethnic cleansing is working overtime, but it is
in the east and nothing to bother about.
We have in Europe a clear-cut war, Russian versus Ukraine
Russians are bad lowbrow people, Ukrainians upright
defending their homeland; nothing could be simpler, right?
Ukraine is the victim of Russian aggression
enough said. Stop thinking, take out your prejudices and call
anyone asking questions traitors, dismiss them with contempt
when the **** hit the fan stop looking surprised.

Winter poem

This is a cold day overcast there is snow in the air
dogs are curled up in barns too chilly to howl at strangers
and unusual scents or noise, stillness hangs
as a shabby grey carpet of cobwebs on a stage abandoned
whispers of humanity are dust on floor boards
shuttered windows, roads unused we shuffle indoor
from room to room draped in blankets caught in the grip
of winter the time when the old dies.

There is hope on elevated sites that catch the sun
the almond tree blossom the bride of spring tells us it
will be alright we must hold on a few weeks more and not
succumb and crumble as a leaf on the tree of life

The Nightmare

So warm this August
A child is drawn to the ornamental pool
A surface of lilies
A mother calls for her child
A face white as lilies floats in the light
A mother scream pierces hole in the day
A fraction of a second nature is silent

This not a good day despite sunshine
he feels like a blob without muscle tones
dripping from the wall.
an unspeakable person he has become
to think he always wanted to be slim and elegant
in a tailor-made suit. His whole family are fat
it doesn't bother them swilling beer eating pork
sit there with ample bellies being satisfied,
it as they think it is a sign of prosperity and not
a mark of embarrassment.
Tomorrow he will go for a walk, stop eating
and force his physic into shape, but not today
there is a program on TV about slimming
he wants to see.

We are Brothers

I'm like you
My flaws are human
My vanity too
I'm what life has taught me
So much so
I can dare to disagree
With you
Yet hold you dear
I do not hide my nature
The good the bad
And the ugly
I'm a human, not a robot
Was not made
To be a diplomat
Consequently, I have
Few friends
Those I have I treasure

Nature program
  I can't use the internet the line is broken
can use the word-processor though but on whole
I have to watch TV for news.
today I saw a nature program about spiders. The one
that impressed I was a spider that walked up
To the intended victim and told a series of jokes to
the intended victim rolled over laughing, it was
then my spider punched and injected venom in to
the laughter that kept giggling.
I take it the joking spider told the same jokes since
the audience died every time.

The Walker

He woke up when a nurse at the old folks home, kissed him,
because it was his eighties birthday, he knew this could
not be true he had slept for fifty years and now woken up
By a kiss. He looked in the mirror; the face was not young,
this was an illusion because they said he was old.
He set about capturing the lost years by walking across
Europe, from the south to the north, but to his surprise
when coming to a town people cheered him on and he
was famous as the man who was walking back in time.
When he reached the north of Sweden, he looked forty
he was treated as a sage; fans wanted to know his secret.
In a TV interview he said, “if you walk long enough, you'll
find the way home.” This was regarded as a truism, and
roads were clogged by elderly people trying to find their
youth or a time when they were happy.

People of Utopia

In the deepest less open forest of Congo
a tribe live in idyllic greenness the have cattle but rarely
eat meat their diet is plants, milk and blood from their animals.
They are naked, bath in a stream and walk with a natural charm.
Is this Paradise, the nearest they come to fighting
is jostling with long sticks and no one is hurt.
But wait, isn't there something wrong the absence
of middle-aged or old people?
The people die at forty, don't know why, the program
maker didn't mention it he just waxed lyrical
about a life without stress and overlooked the obvious.
Had the program maker hid the old away for an esthetical
reason? But it appears people die early in this Paradise
I will not join the tribe in Congo just yet.

Candy bar

On a Friday I loved her
with all my heart, bought her
expensive chocolate.
During the weekend she grew
in my affection for her although,
I didn't see her.
On Monday, I fell out of love
she didn't look anywhere near
the way I thought she should.
Bloodshot eyes and her
teeth were green.
Her shiny hair was matted
and she reeked of an unmade bed
and filthy ***,
and to think I was not there.
I took revenge,
ate her chocolate.

Participation

I like to observe people, and the way they talk and act.
My dog observing me, knows when she has done
something wrong I’m angry, she also knows
my anger I mixed with love.
As a talented dog, she reads other people's minds also
baring her teeth if she thinks they are antagonistic.
I was a member of a Scandinavian group my dog
didn’t like them, so I quit.
I’m not a real poet if I sound like one it is entirely
by accident; however, I have written a few books
of vignettes, they serve the distinctions of not being read.
I never bother about this side; what is written stands
like a beacon that tells me I also participated.

Feral cats

After a month of rain, sunshine and blue sky, I have removed
the plastic sheet is covering the fire wood so it can dry better.
A cat sits on the top of the wood and hisses if dogs came near,
it's a smart cat has noticed the village dogs are cowards
when met with resistance. The feline around here feed themselves
catching rats and mice, mind, they eat your food too but
will not sit on your lap and purr.
I have just been feeding an elderly dog left behind by hunters,
shouldn't do this when I go to Cascais who will feed it?
It is tough for a dog to have no home.
Have lit the fire; the wood emits an intense aroma of nature,
think of the curtailing of freedom in Europe; the press has been
tamed, they can print whatever they like as long as it is not
The Truth on how we are ruled; then it is called treason, what's
left are soft **** and TV quiz.

The Failure
When I was bored with sea life
and walked ashore in Santiago
I could find no work except in house of ill repute
throwing out the rebellious and for some reason
became a father confessor to the women, not a good start
No one wanted a book- learned man who had read Nietzsche
so when the money was gone it was back to sea.
any ship would do as long as I was paid so I could leave and
try my luck. I got a job on a Liberia type ship that looks as
it was ready to sink – it did after I left- for some reason
the ship was going to Norway it is a mystery we got there.
After years of self-disgust, I had a heart attack and the state
gave me a sick benefit which was not enough to live on
in Norway so I want to Portugal and stayed, there deep in
the interior and spent my time walking or writing
alternative poetry with little success, which disappointed me
that not being knows, until I realized it didn't matter
I had found my Shangri La and that in the end is my goal in life.

Looking for Redemption


                      Great minds are at work to prove or disprove
the God's existent's we know this I a game the intellectuals play
because they cannot accept the plain reason,
the world exists because it is an illusion.
a conjuring trick, forgotten by its creator.
God is a perfect idea it resides in everyman’s mind
It asks an abstract good for life eternal,
an echo no God can answer

The Great Man

Harry Lesly Smith was born poor in a slum
he had no education but rose above because
he was of a sunny nature.
I read excerpts from his book (he wrote several)
and he expresses himself in a pure working class
vernacular way and since he was not a famous
literate one thinks his book sells modestly.
I too was born in the slum and Homes, finally
ending my boyhood at a farm for the rebellious.
By nature, I’m five minutes before midnight
and tend to see the darker colour of the time
we live in, these the last hours before the world
explode and hurtle through space.
I too have published several books of what I call
“alternative poetry” I can't even give my books
and have never sold a book through Amazon
or bookshops.
I liked Harry he represented the excellent human
and I will remember him well

He was no Alfred

The war was over my father was coming home from the sea
he had chocolate bars, and inside one there was a picture of a film star
propaganda is not new- my picture was of Clark Able
I remember the bar of chocolate as being a bit stale, but sweet.
I was in bed at the time, was pale and thing suffering from tuberculosis
my old man looked aghast and said; is this son?
A furious argument erupted, my father had to leave, never saw him again
except on the bus going into town, he sat there crying
and I left to avoid the embarrassment.
But this was years before I met Alfred, who refuses to be my father.

The Wasteland

Through Gobi
I walked
Alone
Dislike
Smelly camels
A pilgrimage
God and I
In this dramatic
Vastness
Journey no
Wasted
Came out of this
Enormous
Real estate
Knew a lot
About sand
In shoes.

Lamb Stew

The ewe had
Two lambs
She rejected
The weak one
The shepherd,
Picked it up
It fell asleep
Cradled
In strong arms
He took it home
For his wife
To make a stew

The phobia  

Went to the Carnival in Loule I'm sure it was nice
I felt like the branch of a tree hurtling down a river
Of humanity a maelstrom, a headless monster and
I was filled with panic; a scream was working its way
Up my throat, I found a breathing space by a doorway
As the float with lightly dress girls came there was
A surge towards the edge of the pavement a vacuum
I was able to run and found a dark side- road where
masked people with evil masks played with fire.
I found my way to a normal street I knew in a café had
A sandwich and drink water, I'm in a dry cycle seeing my
Doctor at the end of the month and if she asks If I drink,
I can honestly answer no.
This fear of throngs of people should not be taken lightly
But I was able to flee but also take a picture of the girls

The fall of communism

When free of the burden of communism
and many states became a democracies
it was a great feeling no one telling people what to do.
This and a free press became a burden for the public
who seeking order turned to the right.
When Neo- fascists came to power people rejoiced,
at last, someone to give vent to their prejudices, say,
people seeking refuge from war and most of all
the ancient hatred of the Romany people was provided free
rein. Nothing new here people everywhere are
unpleasant hate what they do not understand,
from there to concentration camps, the road is short.

Doris Day.

I had something on my mind but Doris day
keep coming in making me hum one of her songs.
There was a foul *** ****** in Milan which
a man confessed to, but it was found guilty
she had precipitated in the deed and was jailed,
bet she didn’t bother to sing one of Doris Day's
songs. Four years later they found her innocent
and set her free she hastily went back to
the USA, which was a shrewd move to a new court case
found her guilty again and can't go back to Italy,
a shame really she after four years in prison spoke perfect Italian.
The latest I heard she was going to
Norway for her holiday, fishing for salmon I think.
I have studied her face, something about her eyes
tell me she is a psychopath, but what do I know?

Fire Storm
A sudden fire in the undergrowth
a flame that spread so quickly
swallowing up small hamlets and forests
in the middle of Portugal.
57 people burnt to cinders many in their cars
trying to run away from monster flames.
The heat so intense sun a ball of hatred
except for the tourists by the beach who promise to come back next year.
We can't argue with nature, and with bowed
heads fight the fire and accept its vile ways.
Not so in London a tower block housed by the poor
cost the life of 100 people, this was negligence
by the careless using flammable material
those responsible for this crime must stand trial  now
and not let their inequities  be burrowed in  
the commission that will be released sometimes in the future

When all is Ocean

I have been looking at the map on the wall
Most of our world consists of salt water
In time to come when the sea level rises
Britain will be a rock that steadfastly refuses
To join EU, and that is ok, since most of
Europe will be under the sea.
The far and near east will consist of islets
And Swiss will have a seaport.
If you think this will bring peace, you are wrong
They will fight over religion and fishing rights
And threaten war.
This reminds me, I have to learn swimming.

When words stop
  
Words, words sunken Japanese warships
in the bay of Palau where yellow jellyfish do not sting
and the US military plans to make a base on the moon
and bomb the world to smithereens
I'm watching too much TV and fed useless information
I don't need. Trying to make sense of this;
war is the loser nature is peace.
Until the war that is cyclical destroy everything this
is needed to win Concord.
In the meantime, economic wars are manufacturing useless
inventions and underpaid garment workers
cheap food and obese people. This lasts till a new hot
battle begins and those who want peace are traitors because
they know there are no winners it is an illusion we have not been able to understand, like religion and Santa Claus.
When the human voice disappears
when wolves no longer howl in the valley, then battered
Nature will slowly take over, and peace will reign.

Caravaggio

  
A painting of Caravaggio has been hanging on a wall
in a modest house when it was discovered, it was painted by the greatest
Painter of all time.
I gladdened my heart. I´m a great admirer of this robustious man
A misfit that didn´t fit in the company of artists but walked his road.
No, I have no Caravaggio on my wall, only prints of his work
his original belongs to the millionaires and collector who byes the great man´s
art and hide it from view.
Art should be available for all he speaks to us working-class few other
painters ever did.
A museum is a suitable place for him, not rotting away
in the mad people´s world
who thinks art equal money?

Flag Days

In the village people are not keen of waving their
national flag about (Portuguese) it’s regarded as
rude boasting. An American, who once lived here,
hoisted the Stars & Stripes every morning and, at
times tied yellow ribbons on almond trees.

Politely we didn’t mention this banner madness it
was as it never happened ; then he suddenly died no
one took the flag down till it was in tatters and
blew off in a winter storm; as for yellow ribbons
the almond tree bears beautiful flowers in spring.

Alfred getting old

Alfred, the violinist had some setbacks
he fell in love with a woman of high culture and rich,
Alfred moved in with her as she also had a piano
which Alfred loved. He played Chopin and another semi
popular tunes, so engrossed he was that he didn't notice
she was tired of him and told him to leave.
It was shocking for poor Alfred who without arguments
left with his violin.
He used to have a small room at a rundown hotel, but
It was occupied by some other loser, so he slept on
Aa park bench, had a wash at a river nearby where he also
washed his clothes.
One night when he slept he was assaulted and his dear
The instrument was stolen now he had nothing.
Alfred was depressed, but not for long, a woman who, had
A café nearby gave him food and shelter in a shed she had
At the bottom of her garden, she also ironed his clothes.
The police who liked Alfred he was always polite, caught
The thieves and he was back in business.
He became a fixture of the town playing his music
at street corners and was much missed when he drowned
washing his feet in the town’s ornamental pool.

Forthcoming
Last year
He came out of the closet
Had spent
Thirty years
Trying to find
The right pair
Of shoes

The Aliens have landed

This is the third day of the new, year and days are equally dark
and miserable as days before the fireworks and drunk people
filling streets with hoarse screams, scaring dogs and cats who
do not understand the collective madness that grips people by
celebrating peace with thunder.
Most of my friends are dead and yes, we danced around
the golden calf, we wanted it all, we got illnesses and old age.

The third day of the new, year and it is the same old ****, car bombs
exploding, a WikiLeaks no one reads as the truth is bothersome
enjoy yourself; our democratic system is going down the drain
and no one will look up and see when they are swamped by
an alien culture and the darkness.
We have been conquered by our lack of respect for our system
and not a rifle shot has been fired.
Kneel down you infidels; there is a minaret in every town.

The unreal versus the real

As a toddler, there was a war on, not that I noticed, there
Was a German camp nearby and I was their mascot let me sit
On cannons and their enormous horses, they also gave me
Chocolate and slices of bread with strawberry jam; so far my
War was idyllic.
Reality!
There were shots in the night, and the camp was lit up
Russian prisoners had tried to escape and sot for their attempt
On my walk I came across dead Russian, I knew they were gone
They had been my friends too, and snow was falling.
A big German took me in his arms and carried me home I Think
I had been crying; he told me it was a dream and to forget it.
Stillness, yes the stillness is what I remember no farmers were out
The land was empty.
I didn't visit my soldiers anymore preferred to play with the dogs in
The back yard I wanted to go home to my mum and just as peace broke out
I was sent home from the farm and witnessed the jubilation of
People who had been occupied for five years; and it was the beginning
Of cold winters and scarcity, they bore with forbearance.

The Flowers of Fall
On the road to Bolequeime on the way to
the German supermarket that sells proper Teutonic sausages
autumnal blossom flowers sit on white plastic chairs
high heels and shorts
Sometimes a car stops, no, not the man in a white van
usually, it is a big car with dark windows a business man on
The way to the office. A quick blow-jobs nothing much else
to do in a car and no need to undress.
The flowers have water which they drink from after a job
in this line of work, no one smells the roses
They used in the summer gone look exotic on the beach and
clubs but only pensioners are here now and they walk
slowly in the sand, so they trek inland like beautiful **** by
the roadside and the dust of passing cars.
The roses look nice in falls light if you remember what love is
you’ll not find it here by the verge they only sell despondency

Selling books

A friend of mine who used to be my editor,
until I discovered she was bewildered by commas,
has gone all mercantile, if you buy one of her
sweetly decorated books with flowers, you also
get a doll presumably made of plastic.
The child had no memories yet, only that he loved
his mother, father, grandfather and aunts.
The Israelis will say he was paid by the “Hamas.”
to go play in the sand.
If you buy one of my small books at Kindles, I will
send you a picture of a dead Palestinian child.
Truth is a costly gift, but in general, a doll is more
popular and cosy.
When the doll has been hugged enough and thrown
away, the truth, like granite, will always be there.

The Multiracial

We are all mildly racists at heart; we unconsciously judge the world
and other people's value and beliefs as inferior to ours.
Where we were born and the culture we absorbed as superior to others.
No matter how liberal we are and no matter how good we think we are
it can't be erased by a multi-cultural
Agenda pushed our way. But we can learn to respect one another views even
if they are born out of ignorance as we think it is.
And the “Them” will think the same about us as ignorant of their values
and their superior culture.
When we fear immigrants, it is because we think the will watering down
our cherished culture and replace it with something inferior, we
don't see the beliefs they add are making us intellectually richer
and expand our understanding of the world.
Israel is a good example trying to make their land a race pure state,
we have been there before, and it ended in disaster.
For those who might be in doubt, it is also called ******.