Deserted by Alfred


It was not my fault I had no shoes
And the police stopped and asked and since it was none of their business
I naturally told them to *******.
was handcuffed and put in a police car,- which was more cooling than
the asphalt, after all, it was October in Albufeira.
I thought this is a perfect movement when a father defends his son
but Alfred who refuses to be my father had gone home
I was left to explain this ridiculous case, but luckily the Portuguese
police force felt sorry for me and let me go.
Next day I bought a pair of sneakers in a Chinse shop and my father
who refuses to be my father was wearing my leather uppers.

The *** life

I met her a the supermarket
there was a strong ****** attraction between us
which was odd I hadn't thought of *** for years.
We came to a house with a myriad of rooms
took one of them, but as the act was to commence
I had to ***, looked for a loo couldn’t find one,
found a sink but a man come and said it was his place.
Back in the love nest, the woman had gone I dressed
drove home and peed on the flowers on the terrace
as I didn't want to wake up my wife.
Back in my med with my wife in, I pondered about
I have not had an ******* for ten years, so the conclusion
was I had had a nightmare.

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.

How did it come to this?
Sitting on a terrace counting how many
Ships are anchored in the bay.
I know most of the ships especially
The coastal runners, the big trawler has left an ugly ship
With a crew of the last chance saloon
No self-respecting seafarer would join a ship
That empties the ocean of life.
How did it come to this?
I am watching ships come and go in the bay of Cascais.
My plans for the future have been overtaken
By the veracity of the day

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 paedophiliac?

I sat on a park bench beside another old man
we saw a beautiful 17 years old girl walking past
and I said: we can’t get any of them.
The old my smile and said she is my granddaughter
and I sleep with her every night
My God! Another ****, Got out of my seat and hasted away
in my case slowly.
The old man died, they tend to do so. At the funeral
his granddaughter said to me never liked him much
but he made me do it.
She looked at me with eyes as glacial as the Arctic before it began
to thaw and asked: will you be my Valentine?

pretence
      where lies are common to be polite and opinions
are only accepted if it is the realm of what is
viewed as the norm and must not be overstepped.
I believe in the free expression but am sceptical of the free will as it will only bring chaos such as abortion as on the whim of the day. You can say I'm an authoritarian ascertain order has to follow the law of nature, which many consider as an infringement of rights.
What Right!
Europe has a shrinking population thanks
to the idea that the morality of the unwritten law
that can be overlooked without any consequence
of the future generation.
Abortion is capitalist thinking eat your cake today
and never mind what happens when we have gone.

Looking at things

Walking on cobblestones is an ordeal
and more is the traffic, I look out of the window
when I walk on my treadmill count how many
cars going around the roundabout.
When I have counted 500, I stop this treadmill
15 minutes have gone by.
When I lived at the border of Alentejo I walked
on the soft grass and counted flowers
saw grass grow into fodder for sheep.
A Moldavian family bought my house, people
tell me how lucky I was selling the house
I had many offers but told no one, hence “lucky.”
My lyrical mine is all but dried up, now reduced
to write about furniture, a sad fall from grace.

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.

Haiku  
Ripples in the cove
Had a dreamy quality
A Memory

The lake a mirror
The heaven admired itself
Rain erased mirror

Irrational rollers
Committed suicide on cliffs
White foam on emerald

A émigré's Dilemma


I have lived in this foreign country long, longer than I should
Many seasons I have seen, my hair is grey and brow wrinkled
seeking an understanding of a life that makes no sense.
I know their culture, have read Fernando Pessoa, sing their
songs, but I came here as an adult, but my heart is not there.
I wanted to be a part of this Iberian country, but when
remembering a lullaby, my mother used to sing, when the party
is over, I know I’m a pretender.
I have lived here too long, but if I go back to my old country
I will be a stranger, in a town where no one knows my name,
and I will dream of a mythical Portugal.

The human tragedy

I know of a man
And I knew him well
When coming out of hospital
Incurable cancer
He went home
Shot his father and ***** his mother
Then hung himself
Two of the three deeds
Could be understood
But the ****
Could not be explained
It was a human tragedy
Of a Greek dimension
Alas, he was an ordinary man
And no play was written

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

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.

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 Mighty Fall

I fell through the night under me I could see white crested waves
of the sea and there was little I could do to stop this freefall,
it took 3 minutes to reach the unforgiving surface of the vast ocean.
I screamed like a hurt animal and began sinking could not breathe,
fought and struggled to be free of this huge amount of water; and
there it was my heaven, the full moon pulling me upwards so I could
fly and dream among the stars.
First, I had to swim to the Saragossa and find the secret island always
hidden in a miasma of the absolved, but I could not do it alone.
On my back floated my body anemone and incredibly beautiful.
The sea was a mirror now; I was held back by the sea as the moon
tried to possess me, both wanted me, and this filled me with
ecstatic happiness as the current helped me to reach Saragossa.

Yesterday is tomorrow

Ay the first meeting he loved her, and she loved him,
he was jealous of her flirtatious ways, and harsh words
were spoken. She left.
They met again a few years later he was more rounded
and accepted her little affairs, as she always came back
to him. For many years they were happy to the day
she contracted gonorrhoea which took a few weeks
to clear up and they continue their love life.
But it was a pretence they struggled to believe, it was
like a shadow of doom had cast an evil spell over them.
She took to drink and often smelt of gin in the morning
she couldn't sleep and drink late in the night.
One day she said she didn't love her anymore, she had
met a man who was like he liked to drink and dance.
Again she moved out, this time for good.
Because of their lifestyle, both fell on a hard time
and moved away to a town where no one knew them.
What he often remembers is when they were young
and he tried to jump from a wall to a flat roof and
she held out her arm to save him from falling.

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.

Epigram
I do not write lyrical poetry anymore
leave that to young hearts not damaged by cynicism,
which is poetry’s biggest enemy; lyrical poem
should be free of realism and have a dreamy quality

The Big lie

When I first made the girl who became the love of my life
                        love happens by accidents- I didn't want her to become pregnant
although she wanted children. I said our love was so strong
we didn't need anyone to upset our happiness, but her longings
for motherhood became too strong, she left me for another man
and got eight children, she dies on the steps of the church of
Zarathustra begging for more little ones to fill her life with love
the only kind that could make her fulfilled.
I came from a street were men got drunk Saturday nights
beating their wife and children and I feared, having violence
within me, would be like them; well I never found out and
I'm glad that I never did.

The first voyage

My mind goes back
To a faraway place when I joined
My first ship as a mess-boy.
How sick I was, throwing up
My supper.
There was no reprieve
get on with your job, boy.
I did, but remember the ghastly
the smell of soap suds.
The ship was going to Baku
Then a part of the Soviet Union
And the black sea wasn’t black
But full of ice.
The town of Baku was sparse
On streetlight but safe
A kind solder followed us around
We drank white wine, and I threw up again.
Memories last long I never drink
White or sweet wines.

The boy on the bridge.

At the hospital, I woke up in the night
got up, walked into a hall I didn’t recognize
A nurse came and told me to go back to bed
“My father told me to stay here,” I said
I knew it was in a dream, a poem I had read
many years ago, when I could remember
with clarity what I read.
In the morning, waiting for breakfast,
coffee and a scone, a nurse was busy
sticking needles into me.
I tried to remember the title of the poem
“The boy on the burning bridge?.”

The ship of ages
It was a hot afternoon when the big bulk carrier left a harbour
at the coast of Bengal bound for Sidney (Australia)
with a cargo of scrap iron from ships that once had ploughed
the many seas, alas too slow in our modern time.
Somewhere in the Indian ocean, the sea separated and
the bulk carrier fell into a timeless zone where life repeated
itself endlessly; the cook is making soup, the captain is
reading a map of the oceans’ great currents.
150 years passed convulsion in the time zone. and the ship
was back on the sea’s surface.
The cook served his soup, and the captain called the harbour
authorities in Sidney, he needed a birth for a ship no one
had heard of, but the manifest stated Sidney.
They let the ship birth on a disused pier far from the city
to the disappointment of the crew.
When the pilot left, he was pale and shaken as he
had navigated the ship through a layer of time.
The customs officials found cigarettes and whisky,
products that had been banned for over sixty years
only marijuana was legal if smoked in moderation.
The crew, the captain and the cook were arrested and sent to
an open camp for interrogation, it was there a nurse noticed
the tribulation was getting old by the day, and the crew could
no longer walk, many were incontinently suffered from senility
and chronic heart failure.
One day they had gone, what was left dust blowing in the wind.

Duck and fox


The fat duck stand on a frozen pond shifting it's appetizing
from leg to leg, must be cold, little snow around too
freezing feet, so why doesn’t it stand on some dry grass?
An arctic fox wearing expensive fur sneaks up behind the duck
But as it lunges the bird jump up in the air.
The fox losses its balance and slides to the other side; gets up
runs with head down to its hole in the ground- by a boulder
that looks like a grazing pony in moonlight. The duck lands
on the ice again, hangs about as lost in thoughts. The Nordic
landscape is perfectly still and the sun is a frozen Florida orange.

Handwriting

I was sent a book used when I went to catering
college 60 years ago, I had signed it on a page inside.
What was remarkable was my handwriting
which was a little shaky and insecure like a person
who yet to come to grips with life and tries to
make himself invisible.
The book, about hygiene on ships and how much water
a person needed every day; the text was displayed on
The Facebook and they wanted to send it to me,
but I declined since I could remember every word in
the book holds no sentimental value for me.
At best it was a meeting of the past I do not care
to remember as it only makes my old age sadder
then it is.

Truck driver
I heard crackling under the floorboard
could it be my cottage is falling into a deep
the underground lake where fishes are blind
since they never see daylight.
A lake that has pure crystal water and is free
of sharks and crocodiles.
You are right I have been watching a program
about truck drivers in Alaska who risk their lives driving over a frozen winter lake.
Real heroes who win no medals driving supply
to obscure places dicing with death every day,
their destination is a little pay packet to keep
their families fed.
The crackling has stopped I have to tread lightly
and not eat a full English breakfast.

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.

Personal Deity
I have a friendly ghost in the living room
before the wine glass hits the floor, it scopes
it up not spilling a drop.
But hang on if you believe in an afterlife
It follows there must be a God which you think
Is a myth designed for fear of death?
To disappear into the vast nothingness
Personal Deity
I have a friendly ghost in the living room
before the wine glass hits the floor, it scopes
it up not spilling a drop.
But hang on if you believe in an afterlife
It follows there must be a God which you think
Is a myth designed for fear of death?
To disappear into the vast nothingness
where nothing exists.
So the explanation must be my dexterity
grabbing the glass before it hits the floor.

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.

Saying

I used to say the elephant, people and the giraffe are not needed.
How wrong I was the elephant reminds us how small we are and
The giraffe tells us how short-sighted we are. As for people
The jury is still out

The division

Here in this landscape of bushes and crippled trees
the grotesque peace of daylight ghosts, grey boughs
stretching upward appealing to a soundless god.
“Give us today a new life.” There is only one deity
the almighty one goes under the name of Silvanus.
Those who do not understand this are doomed to
a life of empty pursuit of pleasures.
Crowded nightclubs and casinos, people trying
not to be alone in the night and face the truth
we are mortals and infrequently remembered.
Faces in a black frame, seeing you seeing through
you and into an ever-expanding void.

Gun control
A husband bought a fine revolver
it was to defend his home and chattel,
but he had children young, packed the gun in and
put it high up in the wardrobe.
Then it happened one night some robbers broke into
his house at gunpoint, and took his computer,
tablet and iPhone and left.
Furious and humiliated he found his revolver,
loaded it with trembling hands and accidentally shot his wife.
He didn't go to jail, kept his revolver, anyone in America
understand a man has the right to defend his family

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.

To suddenly be old
It came so suddenly one day I woke and was old
I thought it was never going to happen.
To be old is ok up to a point, but the body is falling apart
I walk with a cane now, constant pain when walking unaided.
I have lost my sense of humour nothing is funny,
What made me laugh has turned into shrug about the idiocy
Of humans. We see this clearly when a British troops board
An Iranian vessel, after request, by the USA it is laughable
How they want a war that has no reason other
Then revenge when Iranian students took over the American
Embassy in 1976, it is sniggering funny, I am not laughing as
the world faces another calamity, a war that will hit us all.
Brexit is a hoot the British elite at its worst; it lacks dignity
When incompetent politicians fight for power, do anything
To avoid Corburn getting to control and destroy
The elite’s little earners, I shrug we have been here before
And it is not funny.

Shore life

A shark tired of its watery world
came ashore dressed in a suit on its small feet
and tried its hand in business.
Since it couldn't bite people's head off it became
very rich insisted on being called GS, and that's ok.
It sowed discord around that is what sharks do,
but it was found out and became a laughing stock
before going back to sea.
And there was the lady seal that went ashore
dressed its sleek body in daring wear and the men
at the building site whistled, it liked the sound but
pretended not to like it. Got a job as a contributing editor
in the Guardian, but tells no fishy tales.

Haikuish

Rain in end of June
I don't mind it cools the land
Unclutters the mind
Rain in end of June
Promises moderate times
Dogs do not yowl
The hoary oak smiles
Dust free and verdant leaves
Rain in end of June
No flies fly today
Sparrows sleep under roof tiles
Nests dry and cosy

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.

Charles Aznavour and I

Once in Southgate, I bumped into him
I apologised, so did he, and we continued on our way.
Further down the street, I said to myself
you touched a famous man, thought of running after
him telling I knew who he was, but since he knew
this already, he would think I was deluded.
I later saw a picture of him on the door of a restaurant
Where he had a “gig”; one is modern.
The ticket price was high, and I didn't care too much
of his singing, his public was for the cognoscenti
who had once been in Paris.
Me, I like Edith Piaf we lived in similar streets.

Looking for serenity

At the corner shop
They have sold out happiness
On sticks
Dreams too
They sell fresh bread
Moreover, plastic toys.
The greengrocer next door
Sell carrots, cabbage and leeks
However, no heart-shaped
Tomatoes.
Further down the road
A shop specialises in exotic cheese
and milk products
However, none of them sells Joy.

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.

An Odd Bird
  
   The seagull and I were flying over the Andes.
   the mountain was brown, and we saw a lake green
   as an emerald ring on an Irish girl's finger.
   Let’s fly down and have a bath I said, the gull said
   the lake was poisonous, so we continued on our way
   to the pampas of Argentine.
  Landed on a jade green patch of the land
  it was then the seagull confessed it suffered
  from hydrophobia, it was, therefore, it had left
the Pacific Ocean and avoid derision from birds
that loved the sea and diving for fish.
But a seabird is supposed to like fish.
Who says, the gull angrily uttered I like cooked
meat with boiled potatoes, anything wrong with that!
we walked to an inn, that is the bird sat on my
shoulder, had lamb chops with mint sauce, are you not
surprised to see a bird in here, I asked the landlord,
no not at all it often comes in here it is
the first time I have seen it with a human.

The brown bear


During Yeltsin years when he sold Russia down the river
People in the west loved the brown bear
we patronized the Russian as ***** swilling village idiots.
The cuddly bear died, and a steely-eyed fox to the helm
and the Russians was no longer cuddly.
The Russian federation was no longer willing to play
the game ascribed by the western press no longer willing
to be pushed around and laughed at.
Putin, the fox, turned Russia into a modern state that has
a modern army that is powerful if stirred by the west.
Russia wants peace but does not like the encroachment
by NATO/US, that is like Indians in western movies
encircling the wagons.
Putin, president of Russia, vilified by the western media
and the EU, ain’t forgiving
even the capitalists know this and stalk carefully.

One flag one country

in the beginning, there was hope it was agreed upon
That a turkey was a big chicken and it wouldn’t offend anyone
as the two fowls had no say and didn’t they had a name.
Around the conference table, there was a spontaneous applause
So little had gone right for them the chairman suggested
In the spur of the moment to find a common name for
Palestinians and Jews referring to the group Lapwejs, there
Was a long silence, but the idea was sound only the name
Lapwejs didn’t have a melodious tone; a comity was formed to
Study the idea if they succeed the people of that part
Of the world would end discrimination s everyone was equal
Of course, they had to come up with a new flag on that
Look like Greek copy, but had several warm friendly colours.
No one would be call anti-Lapwejs or something similar.

Tanka

Hazy Sunday dawn  
A man on a rime frost field
Has shot five rabbits
He has tied them to his belt
Blood drips on his trousers’ legs

The Political class

The problem with politicians is we need
someone to represent us and they do for a reward
the power and prestige.
Delegates speak fluently give promises they have
no intention of keeping and a prone to corruption
and will always do the bidding of the haves.
In the corridors of power, they strike deals which
are hidden for us and when called out they lies
and we are often too willing to believe them.
Of course, we have democracy and elect someone else
who say what we like to hear, but they the new brooms
somehow blend in with the rest of their class
and many run their own businesses that, they say, is
because they work hard, I call it skulduggery.
President Macron of France is a good example, silver-tongued
and charming he pretends to want a just society
when the truth is he only represents big business
and doesn't bother to talk to the lower classes except
for platitudes and when we discover the truth, it is too late
a politician who has no ideology is only in for this
for control and when they fail feel no shame just
go back making money elsewhere.

Sunlit Cascais

Today the sun shines
Over the bay, a pilot boat
Is going out
To take a small coast ship
into Lisbon.
In the night
the couple upstairs
made robust love
Plaster fell as snow
on our bed.
And that was ok
******* is better than war
I know the woman
often see her in the foyer
she looks haughty and chaste
and unsmiling.
Not that I would tell
about her nightly desire
but the falling plaster
it is a worry.

The Obama presidency

He started out promising but fell at the first hurdle
When he tried to give America a health system
That covered the working classes, what’s left is
An insurance system they can ill afford.
He sent back thousands of illegals back, but since
he was the darling of the liberal press little was said.
Once when he had the chance to become great
By declaring Palestine, a free state, he didn’t quite
Make it, and his speech ended in platitude.
He will be remembered as a suave but weak man
Who baulked at the pressure from Israel?
He was not a great statesman but buckled under
The burden and there are little to remember him
By other than what he could have been.

A small collection

Working on a small poetry connection
There is no haste a poem a day keeps the mind focused
And not drown in self-pity.
It is needed good laughter, the fun of a joke
That can have a stream of seriousness underneath.
Excellent fun docent appears by itself it stirs up
The tired mind, something remembered, because
Life is – despite dire predictions- bitterly funny.
Old men departing wisdom is an uproar of pompous
Idiocy you can’t help but laugh out loud.

Epigram 3

If the universe has a limit, will the limitation
Be a wall, made of elastic a rubber band that
Can be overextended to the breaking point
A balloon that can be pierced at will, or like
The horizon, you see it, but it can't be reached.
And what is beyond the boundary?

Ancient battle

Beautiful field blood-red poppies
ringed with delicate dandelions.
Once a battlefield
the righteous, in blue uniforms
shiny golden buttons.
The terrorists of the time
were farmers and shepherds.
The revolutionaries lost the battle
and many more.
In the end, the rebels won
got their land back.
When the field is ploughed
human skull appears
rebel or soldiers, who knows?
Rusty buttons surface too
not of gold, after all.