The story of love

Tash Mahal built by a prince
for a wife, he loved despite having many spouses.
A beautiful palace admired for its architecture
and reduced to mere splendour.
On a narrow road going uphill, I came across
a clumsily built cement block
made by a boy who loved Maria Emilia
Thorny bushes overgrew his work.
Yet, it was here I sat down and cried for lost love.

Rainbow alliance

On a barbed wire fence between Chile and Argentine
hangs thousands of plastic bags, some of the bags from top shops
London, New York, Paris and Bonn.
Here are Japanese, Swedish bags, Arabic bags, and occasionally
bags from North Korea.
The fence between the two countries is an international garbage
collector, it is also an eerily beautiful place like a sad rainbow
overshadowed by neon light.
There used to be skeletons here that also had broken bones
as dropped from planes; the corpses have been removed, but if
you are lucky you might find a skull or a thigh bone cleaned
By the wind; the plastic rattle drowns the call of the condor

The deep state
It is not a good thing to know too much
of the private life of the powerful
when things go wrong and the powerful
are threatened they do as the mafia,
**** with extreme effectiveness.
It has happened many times before, but
a good example is Robert Maxwell and
Now Epstein. The next one in their sight
is Julian Assange who is slowly being
poisoned breaking down his healthiness
What can they prosecute him for?
Telling the truth about the criminality
they have been engaged in and the myriad
Of lies, to feed the stupid public with.
Death is the best option in the vacuum
they can pile it up with more lies.

Weekend in Cascais
On Cascais glittering Saturday bay, slowly rides a rust stripped
bulk-carrier, sailors on the deck look at the town and think it
is Paradise, from the soot hallooed green stacks, whispering
smoke dissolves their dream of ever going home.
Tourists, fishermen and drunks, the eager and the weary and
the sad eyed mills about.
A blind woman sits on a folding chair sings Fado, Portugal's blues.
her voice is cracked, but full of soul, she keeps score with a tiny triangle the little plink a feint echo above the crowd.
When footsteps fade its faint sound becomes cymbals
clasped together by men of steel, her voice a storm which
cleanse streets clean.
Every morning Cascais is reborn, a wet pearl arisen from
the green seas, before sandaled feet descend and drown
the day in a cacophony of disharmony.

Against Official Truth  

Let me throw this firebomb at you and tell you
there is no such thing as world catastrophe caused by Man-
Made pollution. Yes, we get ***** air to breath,
and fish have plastic residues in their stomachs but
this is not the main cause
the truth is that we are in the cycle of climate change
once there were palm trees in Greenland, but too
come nearer our time the Viking were cattle farmers
have you ever tasted a juicy Viking beef?
But we have to clean up our planet for our own sake
our children, and so on, the new ice age will come
and in time will adjust to this new weather system.

The amber moon

Super moon last night saw it from my terrace
18% brighter and 20% nearer, said the meteorologist
How unromantic can you get?
Hugh yellow and beautiful, so close I could reach
The moon with my broom, I felt the pull levitated
And dared to dream big.
Beauty should be shared till it becomes
A memory pooled by lovers, but you were not there.
This was a night of the vague nearness of the one you love.
I walked on a sandy lane thinking of your absence.

The Doubt
People around here died twenty years ago
But no one told them they had had their funeral
And back behind the plough next day.
The Internet is foreign to them as is radio and TV
Spend their evening talking about burials and how
Many people turned up.
It is frightening since I know they are dead I must
Be as well only I can't recall my funeral and no one
When we sit by the fire telling anecdotes, mention it.

If alive how do I know I tried to turn water into wine.
It didn't work the water to cold.
I will now go outside fall flat on my face if it hurts
I should be ok, but it worries me that I can fly

The weakling
As a small boy, I had tuberculosis and all
the other illnesses one can have, I was thin a weakling
no thought I would live long.
The doctor had prescribed a half a bottle of cream
I could only gulp a handful and gave the rest to my sister.
Then when about thirteen all this changed I ate well
got the energy to run, cycling and football, I also tried boxing
which I was lousy at.
I grew taller than my siblings and thrived.
When in my twenties my brother died of a brain tumor,
and a few years later my sister.
My mother sank into a  depression she was unable
to get rid of her loss was.
I had the time of my life  and thought it was going
to last forever.
I’m in my eighties now and ponder why should
I live so long when the strong perished?

The Intemperate  

Alcoholism is an irredeemable illness
often compared with diabetes which is also incurable
however, with diabetes, it is possible to reduce it by
taking insulin and avoiding certain foods.
However, you can't cure intemperance by drinking beer!
He was a well- known actor had everything to live for
When in Algarve the old discredited counsellor
tried to get him to go to AA.
He blankly refused said he didn’t want to live
since his wife had died of cancer, which turned
out to be eight years ago.
One day he met him struggling to get up a hilly street,
He stopped offering a lift, but the actor in his cups
told him to “**** up”. Later that night he came to offer
his apologies threw up on the kitchen floor the old man
got him into bed.
In the morning he had raided to fridge for beer know
he wanted a proper drink, and he was driven home.
There was nothing the old therapist could but hope.
The news came he had died at 56 killed by *****.

Mild obscurity

At the local supermarket, a woman not a day over seventy-five
asked me where she could find unsalted butter spoke
with an American accent.
What do I know, perhaps, she was related to the Kennedys?
By the butter- shelf we stood, there was a spark between us
like the Ronson-lighter I once bought in Liverpool, a heavy
lighter, I always knew in which pocket it was; now that smoking
is a sin the lighter ended up in the garage, only to be used
in extreme perseverance,
I had seen her before, in Trieste in 1962 she was a spy for the CIA
Smoked posh Monte Carlo cigarettes through a long holder
while drinking creme de menthe.
My wife stirred; leg cramps, switched on the bedside lamp
and I was brought back to reality.

The oldies blog
I know of a writer/poet who has dedicated
His blog to old age, being considerably older
then him, I think he is on the wrong track.
To write about a poet who couldn't find his
Specs, his wife saw them in the freezer beside
The ice-cream is chuckling, but overall people
Don't want to know about infirmity.
To write down what happens to an old person
On an everyday basis is not what young
Readers care about, say farting and trouble
With peeing, they want to hear about love and
The falling of love and the heartache it brings.
To see the object of desire talking to other men
The jealousy that gnaws holes in their heart
Old men should sit on a park bench, play cards,
Domino which is suitable for them but leaves
The rest to the young poetry belongs to them-

The Heat elsewhere
  
It is hot think of switching the air-condition on
but I think of the refugees from Syria waiting for a gate to open
Israel will not, want to become a nation of ******.
Jordan like ways has a million refuge and political problems
but if Europe pays them enough can take in some more.
The refugees are sweltering in the hot sun many have not
tents and there is no shade in this no man’s land hell,
I hope the Red Crescent and Doctors without Borders have
the courage to help, all I can do is send money and
not switch on the air-conditioning.

Happy family
When I was 51 I had an affair with dancer
She didn't want the baby and gave it to me.
Can you imagine? The village women rallied around
A thought is how to change nappies.
I also had to take in a dog no one wanted because it was
aggressive, not a bit of it she had a purpose in life
protecting me and the baby.
Years passed and when she was six she began school
I drove her there but had to sit outside so she could
see me, later that day we drove into town to buy
suitable clothes what I picked out she didn't like
so I left her to it.
I heard a scream; she was in a panic I was not there
picked her up she clung to me and said: daddy never
leave me. We were a happy little family the doom-struck
her mother came back and claimed the child there
was little could do, so dog went behind the sofa sulking
I sat on the sofa drinking wine.
Life goes on the dog and I went for walks that got shorter
and shorter as she was quite elderly had a white snout
and sagging stomach and was grumpy in the morning.
One day I went into town when coming back she had died.
I borrowed a ***** to dig a hole but had no strength
But I saw two big sandstones leaning toward each other
Forming a grotto I put her in there.
As I said year’s passes when I was 71 I needed surgery
Think it is called a bypass, sitting there with a tube in my stomach
There was a knock on the door and in came my daughter
Cried as I have never cried before, she was studying
to become a doctor. When I was feeling better I wanted
to take the bus home. She would hear nothing of it
And arranged for an ambulance, she was in charge
a right bossy little madam,  of course, she had a job in Faro
but she visited me every other day, telling me what to do.
Then she got a posting in Cascais and with my new wife, we moved there. Her mother had said she was not
my real daughter like I should care she is my
nothing can separate us, but I wish she hadn't been so bossy.

Alcoholism and Family
  
His wife has been ill but is on the mend
and is cooking her first lunch for the first time in months
All could have been well for the daughter
who suffers from the illness of alcoholism and it is getting worse.
He used to drink too when a ****** but can see
the difference between drunkenness and alcoholism.
He has confiscated the daughter's car key and can't keep
Alcohol at home (he likes a glass of wine in the evening.)
She refuses to go to Alcoholic anonymous but has agreed
to see a psychologist; she will tell lies and the good
shrinker will give her pills and tell her not to drink.
When her daughter is sober, she is a sweet, kind person
but intoxicated she turns into a devilish being who sometimes
try to strike her mother, she never tries to hit him, because of she
knows he will hit her knock out without punctuation.
All we can do for now is to hope she will understand her problem
and hope for the best.

A Day of Precipitation

A window is a good place
To look out
When it rains beautiful to see
From a warm room
A bookshelf of old friends
Some remembered others
Rediscovered
So let it rain, rain, rain.

Born with a handicap

The woman had two vaginas one was
Not connected to her ****** but other ways looked normal
Her extra ****** was not spoken of in the family
Who was too poor to have it removed?
This was a blessing when the baby girl became a woman
With no education, she went into prostitution a high class one.
For her job, she used her small ****** which pleased
Her clientele one can say small size matters.
She was the only ****** in the world who was a ******
When she was thirty years old.
This was about the time she fell in love and married
A handsome man worth a lot of money to have ***
Using her proper ******, the man was happy to be the first
And they had twins who were normal in every way.
She could have had surgery but desisted, nothing is sure
In life should she fall on hard time her reserve ******
Could be handy to stave off hunger.

Flying things

I once saw a flying pig
there was a hard wind blowing from the east.
over the bay of Cascais
The wind slackened and dropped the pig
that was alive and swimming ashore
alas, where men with knives waited.
Every café was serving pork in all its form
a pig is versatile for human consumption.
Can't say the same for my little donkey
on the terrace, it costs me a fortune in carrots
but it has sweet-smelling droppings which
I dry and sell to rose lovers.

The alternative Saga

Eric the brave Viking
could pillage a village all by himself
**** every woman regardless of age.
In Franken land, he got a venereal disease
Which he spread wide and far?
But hi, he was a Viking and couldn't care less.
He led several Viking ships and headed
for the Med, but he met Arabs fighter and lost
Later converted to Islam. After many years
He reached Jerusalem where he met others from his country
and joined them on the way home, but when they heard
he was a Muslim they threw him overboard
in the straight between Morocco and Spain,
and so ended the life of a brave Viking.

Enticement

The girl in the bar that had floors made of stranded schooners
came and sat by us
Many sailors had drowned in her eyes.
On the way to the Saragossa Sea, their blood
ran down cracks on the floor,
Dripped into the sea below the colour of crimson.
Looked into her eyes an evil goddess with green eyes
I followed her to a room in the back
She laughed when she caught me.

Senryu

A year is a breath
A trivial cosmic moment
For me it is life

Life is not a plateau
But a stormy uphill struggle
The upland is a dream

He stopped dreaming
In the middle of the night
Death fell soft as rain.

I knew of a family
In an unpainted small house
In the poorest part of the town
The man of the house
Had met his love, Maria
Together they produced 8 children
I wondered where they slept.
The oldest child’s name was Kalle
And became my mother’s boyfriend
The man of the house a made living
Driving horse and cart emptying
Peoples ******* taking it to the dump.
He had a beer in the cart
And sang when driving to the stable
Where he spent time grooming
The horse and feeding it.
He sat on a crate reading the papers
Which he could not do at home.
Still, he loved his Maria and I saw them
Holding hands, she had no teeth
“poverty” and had gone fat.
Yet it was a happy home we celebrated
Our Christmases’ there.
Kalle, who liked to wear a suit
Got a flat with a toilet in another town
And we didn’t see him so often.

People I met on and off the screen

I like to watch a TV program, Father Brown
the actors are like old friends I know what they are thinking
one of the most charming figures is the police inspector
he naturally gets everything wrong from the start
and is very rude to Father Brown.
Of course, I see them as actors in real life they are totally
different if I meet one of them in the street
I would have said, look at him he seems like an actor
I have seen on TV and walked on.
I once met Cliff Richards in a paper shop he was buying
the Telegraph ( a rightwing paper)
He was a small man and pleased that I didn't fawn all
over him. We had lunch together, at a little place that had
few tourists, and with some wine, he was good company
relaxed too away from the fans.
When in Algarve I met many actors and found them
to be kind and thoughtful people, and not the way the often
are portrait in the "Sun" and other ****** papers.

The maiden voyage

My first voyage on a ship was on an old tanker
who took us to Novorossiysk in Russia to load oil for
Iceland (Reykjavik.) It was an arduous voyage
in the Black Sea, we got stuck on the ice for days which was
better than the darksome Novorossiysk where we could
only go to restricted places.
Reykjavik too was a dreary little place but we could
walk about as we wanted and the people were nice
only it had no restaurants to speak of and the cafes
sold ghastly beer.
Then the ship was bound for Curacao, a Dutch island
full of bars and ******, it was on that voyage I wrote
my first poem “The Ship plough on” it was met with
amusement of the type I disliked and did attempt to
write anything for the next 30 years but read hundred
of books.

Alfred and the wilderness  

Alfred, who with the greatest of ease tells, me he is not my father
and Olga, he had a brief affair with In Belgrade, is not my mother
we went for a walk across a green field.
Alfred who is a musician and never ventures out in the landscape
saw some grazing sheep and wondered if they were dangerous,
no, I said they are sheep and born friendly
as God created them, to this Alfred called me a crypto-Christian.
A little Lamb came up to my father, it was so sweet,
as only a lamb can be. he lifted it up which the ewe disliked,
and it butted him in the rear.
Alfred was shocked, got up and demanded I bring him to safety
in the nearest town; never trust animals they are all out
to get us he said while limping to safer ground.

The Dawn

I have voyaged far, crossed many oceans
I have seen the unseen, the grotesque.
We are cable of, but I have also met kind
people, I never sank into the abyss of cynicism.

I have seen flowers no botanist has, but I keep
it, a secret the nameless will be hidden.

I rejoice, for I have found my modest me
obliquely I was not here nor there confused.
as semi-transparent waiters passing my table
erased me from their memories.

Of men and plants


The endless growing of new leaves
of my indoor plants, shedding the excess
all over the floor, as disregarded dreams
getting in the way of the day.

Female hyenas are good mothers teaching
their litter is how to scare off lions.


Restless minds are not sound as leaders
who overthink everything and have nervous breakdowns?
Sit shaking in the corner on the bridge of warships
excellent, dancers in the ballroom of peace.

MY uncle

My uncle gave me a fire truck as a Christmas gift
it was made of wood and had wooden wheels
that fell off after one hour of play.
When I lived at a farm, he came and visited me
helped the farmer get in dray hay.
He stayed at the farm for a week, and when
he left I was sitting behind a stone on the outer field
feeling miserable, he could have stayed
A few weeks more.
He had to go, found a job in a town called
Porsgrunn to stoke the flames of industry.
Worst of all, he got married had several sons
Why did have to do this?
That is the problem with adults they always
let you down.

The passing

It is so long ago; the memory is fuzzy as an old photo,
the room was warm, the coal fire burned lustily
I looked out of the window the street lamp swayed,
and snow fell. I turned to my grandmother and said
If the snow continues, I will take out my sledge.
she was still her reading glasses had dropped on the floor,
oh, yes I knew but kept looking out it looked
So peaceful I will stay here and admire snow fall forever.
I picked up her reading glasses placed them back on her
face, we had no phone I had to put on an overcoat  and
tell our neighbour, but before living, put more coal
in the oven, a helpless gesture, but I didn't want her to be cold.
Many people came; they took her away while I looked
out of the window watching falling snow

The rulers

The poor rule the world, live in badly built flats
buy plastic ******* for the children as toys.
They can't cook and their diet is fat and disgusting,
but without them, the rich would not be wealthy,
fewer cars on the roads full of potholes as there
would no one to keep the road drivable.
And their big offices would stink as no one cleaned
them, which really doesn't matter as lifts would
be out of order, and no janitors to change light bulbs.
So you see, the poor are privileged they are
the rulers of our modern society the opulent can't
do without them.

Metrology

The weather plays a big part in  me
When the sunshine and the wind is calm
I feel the lightness of being.
When storm blows and dark clouds  
My mind gets dark, and I think of suicide
However, I like to watch thunder and lightning
stay on the terrace and sing
“Hit me with your rhythmed stick” a bit of a song
I remember.
A full moon is depressing it is as it is trying to lure
me into the ocean it is the silvery glittering
that attracts me to do a daring thing like swimming
with wales or having fun with dolphins.

Cleanliness
On my frequent lone walk by the old docks
I came across a building which turned out
to be a communal bathhouse.
It was incredibly cheap for a few pence
I got a towel and soap and had my first shower
I was at the time, elven years old.
And when I was short of change asked my mother
for not ice cream, but for a shower.
My brother said only poofters went there, how would
I know? I Didn't see anyone wearing badges:
“I'm a gay person.”
There are shops where the old building stood and
by life's irony sells perfume and toiletry.

The Killing of Floyd

So, the policeman who Killed Floyd by pressing his
knee on his neck, the sentence was ******, but was it?
The police officer accidentally killed Floyd as he was trained to do.
The why police are learning their dubious craft has to come
into focus, the whole police department has to be scrutinized,
and the new “servants” of the people must be accentuated.
To concentrate on one man who is insensitive and stupid does
Not solve the problem of the American police.
First of all, the poorly trained officer must understand a gun
It is not for shooting people who are fleeing, but the weapon is a defence
Only used when attacked directly.
I cannot understand why a single police officer has to bear
The burden of guilt that is pervasive in the American society
is by its nature, overly fascistic and too dependent on the GUN.
The victory (political) can be a pyrrhic one if some people can disregard
Law and order.

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.

Musical chicken and an old man  

The old man with too much time on his hands
tried to get a chicken to cluck to music, he played
a tune on his mouth harmonic and fed it grain,
nothing and he came to the conclusion that chickens
are stupid, only a fried one is a good fowl.
The bird belonged to his neighbour, who has a chicken coop,
scrawny looking lot with matted feathers,
While the chicken
he had tried to train was fat; the neighbour killed it
for his dinner, and didn't even give the old man a leg.

A solution?
as the slaughter of
Palestinian’s
continues.
We must look
to Israel
and see
if there is
general protest
against this
brutality
and demand
a policy change
towards
their neighbours
Knowing many Jews
they must be
appalled  
By the sitting
Israeli governments
political failures.
If not they are
victims
of the Zionists

The war games
  
Yesterday afternoon in Finland, as happy people walked about
content in their world of social welfare and full employment
a train loaded with armoured tanks was seen heading for
the Russian border as spring light danced on the lakes.
What do I know, that might be the military's yearly outing?
As the wolves howl lustily to the stars and the trout wakes
in the streams of spring.
Is it, God forbid, a strategic baiting to divert the Russian army?
From Ukraine. If so, this is a dangerous war game.
Finland has a long border with Russia, 1400 kilometres, therefore
2-to 300 tanks a drop in the forest, but enough to make a point.
I prefer to think it is a manoeuvre performed in days of light.

The way it was

I lived on a farm, and one day I walked
down the lane to get the horse in as it looked like rain
a man in a dark suit walked towards me
I said good evening, but he didn't see me.
Later that evening an ancient lady who lived at the farm
it was customary for small farmers to take in old people
and get paid by the state, was feeling ill.
A doctor was called for, but we had no phone, so I was
sent to a farm that had one.
By the time the doctor showed up the lady had died.
The farmers put her in a wooden box that was
used to keep the milk urns it had a lid, this to keep
rats away they smell death.
Next day an open-plan car came they had a coffin
put the lady in a plain coffin and off the drove
to town and that was the last I saw of her.
The farmer got another old person to take her room.

Love Bug

This is my last letter
I have loved you   from the first time I saw you
Something about your eyes
And the kindness of your heart
You know if you can explain love there is none
You are going on a long journey
With your man and that is ok,
And when you return will not be here
I just want to tell you how much I love you
How much I enjoyed your breathe
The aroma of your body when you’re teasing
Me with your youth and my old age
I didn't even hope but took the nearness of you
As a dulcet dream unobtainable.
Love is a rainbow it does not tell you where it falls
Good bye my darling thinking of you
Have eased the burden of my later years

my dog's inner monologue


Why is he sitting there
in front of this odd-looking thing
talking to himself
looking up to the roof
there is no one there I have checked.
Something is burning in the kitchen.
I better warn him.
Well, it was not my food he burned
but why is swearing saying things like;
it was your fault.
He is quite mad today
better take him
for a walk in the woods
he looks at trees and stones
sometimes he picks up a thing but discards
whatever he found.
I think I will leave him alone
and chase some rabbit.
I catch them then let them go,
I'm not allowed to **** them, rabbits are for
eating, but he doesn't understand.
He is daft, but I love him anyway.

Gaza women  
  
Mothers
Of Palestine
With heavy heart
You sacrifice
Your children
In the name of freedom
I kiss
The earth you walk on
Your hatred
For the enemy
Runs deep
As do your love for your children
You will cry
Yet you do this
For a high course
I'm with you
All the way
To freedom

Frank Sinatra

I saw a program of him when he was
an athletic young man till he was old and grumpy
with a low hanging belly.
I didn't like him much although he had a wonderful
voice with a clear diction
in reality, he was a small man who liked the company of gangsters
he had bodyguards and liked to be a man of the town
a tough guy who got into fights his guards had to pull him
out off because he was puny.
Since the internet is down I'm reading “The Senility of Vladimir P”
by Michael Honing. A dystopian novel that is also funny.
Vladimir too liked to be tough and was, on his younger days,
mind, he still is. The only thing Vladimir and Frank had in common
was their modest stature. So the moral is, never make fun
of men not as tall as you.

A fine day in Cascais

A beautiful spring day in Cascais, the centre full of people
which I found a little disturbing.
We moved slowly on old legs like weather bitten barges
in a sea of jubilant racing boats.
It was warm, down by the sea, and we were overdressed.
My wife’s niece had the patience of an angle adjusted her
strides to our gaits, not easy I’m sure she is a picture of
healthy living.
We had lunch, theirs was fish, I settled for a Greek salad
no wine though knows from experience unless you by
a full bottle, the wine served individually in glasses tend
to be inferior to the residue of bottled wine of dubious taste.
We drank beer, and the healthy niece stuck to water.

the tragedy of 1948

Israel declared statehood the west was happy
the Jews had suffered much and deserved a state
the fact that 700 thousand Palestinians lost
their homeland was overlooked.
We were all pro- Israel back then and thought
the region would usher in peace and prosperity.
It was not to be.
Instead, we see that the land of promise has
turned violent wanting all of Palestine and part of Syria
and Jordan too, they appear unstoppable.
The only group holding them back a little is the Hezbollah
who we call a terrorist, but they are a bulwark
the brutal regime in Israel who has nothing to offer but
a war against anyone opposing their quest for total power.
But the Palestinians are not forgotten the scale fell
from our eyes, we see what is happening.
Israel as a state should be boycotted, we in the west
should treat the country as an abomination it is.
By curtailing Israel, we will, in the long run, help its survival.
Force it back to the agreed borders, declare Palestine
a sovereign state, and send NATO troops to secure the perimeter
of Palestine and give financial help to her malign people.

For a small poem


Night rain falls softly
On a cobblestones
Seen by a streetlamp
From roofs rain rolls
Down like tears and
Not a word is spoken.
                      
A little nothing
                      
A cat sits on
                      The steps
Not catching rats
Admires
The moon

Family drama

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A couple, in their late fifties, is coming out of the supermarket,

he sits in a wheelchair, she is pushing him along.

He is grumpy swears at her perhaps she had spent too much

money on groceries

She loses her temper parks him on the pavement and drive off

While he sits there smoking a cigarette.

Five minutes later she returns helps him into the car, fold

the wheelchair drives off.

On his lips a smile quivers, triumph or love?

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Le marriage est plein

De grandes esperances

Irrealisee.

Thoughts of Death

Death is a foreign country
I wish not to go there as I'm only used to life
despite we do our best to destroy our planet.
The aboriginals in Australia call death
dream time, there are times when I ask if life
is dream time and death is a reality.
To meet souls who cannot dream floating about
as dust in a landscape of oblivion.

Obsession
Autism in the likes of Julian Assange
And Greta Thunberg is a force for good
But their passion can be tragic for them
As they go to any length to follow
The mania that rules their life.

I had a tailless dog, who had a mania looking
For its tail, circled till it got dizzy.


Obsessive people can be tiresome but they  
Have great courage and suffer for their beliefs
They are heroes for their quest for honesty
For what we should be grateful.

The Birth of life

I was born by a woman, this because I'm human
and not a horse, my mother had many faults as a housewife
but she instilled in our honesty and forthrightness
and not stay silent if you have an opinion that is not what
everybody else believes, and I have followed her rules.
I happen to think that abortion is in principle a crime against
nature to end a pregnancy for any reason that is not medical.
I'm the lucky one we lived in poverty yet my mother gave me life.
When pre-born my soul had lived aeons of time and
seen how countries had withered and taken over
because people lived in luxury where wine, *** and lust was
more important than giving life
nations who had forgotten their future and imported
children from afar lands which altered a culture
and replaced it with chaos and failure.
The slave is stronger than the master.
Now it is happening again; women have been lured into
thinking that they are not equal to a man if they  
bear children, which is the highest anyone can reach.
Women are our future let us not forget this simple truth.

Once  upon a time

I was, it seems like 100 years ago,
on an old fashion cargo ship, the carried all sorts
from potatoes, flour, machine parts, plastic flowers,
and tinned fruit, meat, and hats for the wife of the president
in Honduras.
For some reason, there was a door in my store room
it led into a cargo hold I filled the larder till it looked
like a corner shop. My task was to keep the cost of living down,
and the captain got a telegram from the company complimenting
me on keeping the cost down.
When the ship birthed in some obscure port, the unloading
took a long time and there was time to go ashore
have a bit of fun and a good steak with wine at a restaurant.
I was twenty-five and had a hell of a time, but nothing
lasts forever, the ship was sold to a Greek shipping company
and we all had to go home.

Edith Lived here

Black & white photo
A house where
Edith Piaf lived
Casting a long shadow
On a summer street.
Blank windows
The house is unpainted
As always
Edith has gone
Her voice lives on
She had no regrets.