Kicked Around

The football game was over the players had gone
to the changing rooms, the winning side talked eagerly
repeating themselves endlessly while the losing side
was subdued silently blaming the goalkeeper.
The football itself the one they all chased was left on
the field and it was raining, it had been kicked so much
it was rather breathless and now it was getting cold,
it bitterly thought I'm round without me they couldn't
play proper soccer but would have to use a rugby ball.
The lonely ball hoped a boy would come pick it up and
take it home to his room; his mother would shout telling
him to clean it he promised to do so but didn't.
The boy must be a studious type enjoys doing homework
and the ball is tired of the sporting life.

Impotence
The day I was fifty –nine I remember well woke up
Without an ******* and my golden mane had vanished
I looked like a shaggy tiger.
I contemplated God, the devil and the food I ate but
Could not get an answer that I was at the threshold
Of old age that held no promises in its greedy arms
*** had lost its spontaneity will it stand up and if it
Does will it remain so until the act is over?
I didn't venture out in the night picking up strange dames
Nibbling at ears was over, my god how much ear wax
I must have swallowed
Gave up the charade at 70 and I found freedom in
Not having to try, but was ok with reading a book

New Year's Eve
Sometimes I thought I saw her
But it was someone else
The pain of my love
Had made me sick I could not
Eat or sleep
I had fallen into apathy didn’t shave or
Changed my clothes
Finally I saw her through the window
Of a restaurant
She danced with him
Firmly and lovingly
Just the way we used to dance
I screamed into the darkness
It was midnight and the church bells tolled

The ski outing

Went on a school trip inland I hated it we were skiing
I fell, in the ******* snow it was no joy the other boys,
laughed I would never forgive any of them.
My mother had given me some sarnies with cheese ate them before we arrived and later was sick of hunger
.
The ski fastening didn't fit, gave me ulcer on my left heel
I took the ****** ski off and hid them behind a hut
The teacher came he demanded I find ski and put them on
I refused and told him to get lost.

I was sent to sit on the bus it was icy with engine off, God
I despised every blasted moment of this, I'm not a team player and
don't find snow fun it is not a woolly blanket.
The other boys also came had frostbites and cried we left
the snowy hell, the bus now warm was I was human again
and plotted my revenge.

Old soldiers never Dies

A neighbour of mine used to be a serjeant in the army,
in his living room, he had a picture of himself, in full uniform
that had many medal and ribbons on.
He served in many countries, Singapore and Germany, I think
he was the head of the motor pool; then the army let him
go it has no place for old men, and his pension was a disgrace.
Once he repaired my car, barking orders of what screwdriver he
wanted, shook his over my incompetence.
It was a day in October when the weather was hanging about like
a soldier who has not got his order; he went to bed for his afternoon
nap, when his wife brought him tea and biscuits at five, he had gone to a military parade in the sky.

Marvellous Life
Back then it is back then- so ****** long ago-
my heart sang when going home after seeing you
I crossed a bridge, and the water hummed a love
song and there was no troll under it being
sarcastic telling me love will not last how wrong  
the troll was, love is the earth I walk upon it is
the olive tree, the sun and rain that fall it is a part
of what is beautiful in your heart and that you could
not take away the day you left. You made me free to
love the magnificence of reality and charity knowing
my life is wat it is supposed to be today.

Rich man poor

The man from
the gutter
who fought
his way to the top
has much hate
and contempt
for those who didn't
succeed
because they were
too kind and
had consideration
for fellow man.
When the rich man
donate money
he is called
a great
humanitarian
and it is
envious to
disagree with that.

Saintliness  

Mother Teresa is a saint now
The woman who loved poverty and death
But what she did is a truth
Like the six million dead Jews
It has been hammered
Into our heads no need to argue
The truth is told by historians and some of them
Are sent to jail for the sake of truth
When a big lie has been established as veracity
Anyone who gainsay this
Is vilified shut out of the tame press and
Given no credit
Mother Teresa has reached sainthood and
Is in the best company of the untouchable just as
It is impossible to discuss the holocaust 's
Secular saintliness
The truth is what you make of it

Haiku
Camembert she said
Smells like a ***** on fire
Catnap near the grate


Haiku
Not in stable born
Jesus a middle class dude
Didn't need a manger

Haiku
Shielded from the law
Under a park bench sleeping
Big Ben and New Year  

Haiku
Moonlight in rivers
Downstream a wizened face floats
A New Year Begins

Ruins

Ancient ruins of Smyrna are threatened by war
they might been blown up by those who want history
to start now cutting off the umbilical cord of yesterday
and we are all victim of the day before. Yet, sad as
it might be everything will be dust, we should lament
but not cry, as we would the death of a child.

Dangerous Encounter
It was a June Saturday after dinner I walked along the docks
and noticed a man I knew putting crates of beer on his boat that
had an outboard motor. He lived on the other side of the bay and
invited me to come along and I accepted. In the middle of the bay,
The man slowed the motor his face was white as Arctic icicles, eyes
like burning lumps of lava, I felt cold and was in immense danger.
The man said: “if the boat capsized I could swim ashore, could you?”
His boat had oars I picked up one and placed it across my knees.
The man looked as he was making a move, I said: “I would not do this
if I were you.” At the pier I helped him taking the beer ashore, I didn’t
accept his invitation to come up to his house for a drink.
While waiting for the regular ferry, I had coffee at the local cafe and
noticed my hands were still shaking after my narrow escape from
a man who had ****** in his heart.

Navigating Life

My house is a boat drifting down a river; I’m
mystified by rivers why do they recklessly
seek the ocean and oblivion? Do a river, think,
it can have a calming effect on the giant, ease
its uncontrollable rages and influence ocean’s
flows and landfalls?

I’m here against my will, owner of a houseboat
I dread the great oceans its vastness gives me
a phobia I’m compelled to conquer or live my
life in terror. The river and I are siblings finding
it difficult to accept the ending of the script that’s
written just for us.

A Paradise Lost  
A dream within a dream that became a nightmare
The Utopia that never existed but what he in delusion
Could not let go  
In the beginning when the locals made remarks but wore
A smile he smiled too, when understood her sarcasm
He still smiled thinking it was a sort of humour till he noticed
The hatred as a gleam in eyes were there was xenophobia
Not possible to smile away,
He sought the nature olive trees, flowers and other plants
But the shells of romance and the hope of finding a Nirvana
Had gone after all carob and olive trees takes on sameness
And the flora was full of stone under sparse grass the
Whither in the summer sun and the rivers muddy and lifeless.
There is no happy valley only scorpions and no acceptance
Of the stranger who wanted to be one of them

The Orchard of femininity
Fine day sun and sky, I walked in an almond tree orchard
the scholars call it a deciduous bush and the learned
has no artistic sense looking for a Latin name
like the tree would care.
It is peaceful here a feminine place, and no one shouts
“Get off my land you, *******.”
The trees are dressed for the ball getting married to spring,
and since they are equally beautiful no competition.

When deflowered they will be pregnant and bear the fruit
called almond; not yet, though, they will look lovely a few weeks more
before taking up the burden of motherhood as
yellow wildflowers nod in harmony.

The Illness
I was driving home had been to the shop and bought
two bottles of beer, thinking of the scourge of alcoholism
that had befallen my clan.
My grandfather lost business and his bakery because of it
(back then it was weak character) two of his children of four
had the illness, mother was one of them.
I was a fall down drunk too, but I left the country and anything
associated with the past, as they say, lived happily ever after
I like my glass of wine, and a few beers, it would be sad I
couldn't enjoy this extra it lends colour to my timeworn age.

I sometimes think I'm a disciplined drunk, never
Drink before 8 at night, not a lot, not too little
just enough to deflect the dimming of the light.

Unwanted

I was walking in the forest but not feeling well
my stomach was extended hadn't been able to evacuate
for days, when suddenly it was time.  
Sat under a tree it was painful yet successful, got up
turned around and there on the ground a perfectly formed baby
made entirely of a waste product like a bronze statue
of a new- born baby, and I had seen this being before, a grotto
in Athens of baby Jesus in his crib, he had opened his eyes grinned
like Satan and several nuns fainted

My baby suddenly opened its eyes too I fled, what else could I do.
take this piece of contamination and hug it to my chest?
But I had to go back only to see if I had been wrong the olives trees
were gone as had goats I called the land Israel, it has tall buildings
that ooze of hatred of those who know they are wrong.

Thoughtless Day  

I was looking out of the window
The view was a road and an opposite wall
And I decided to think of nothing
Emptying my brain for all the ******* and
Lies I had read today and let it sink into the silt
Of the forgotten yet is silt that one day can be
made of mud and do a lasting service
for mankind, and since the settlers keep bulldozing
Palestinian dwellings, no, no I will not think of
This and why should I since I'm not thinking
Like the rest of the world.

Man, it is difficult not to think about love and death
And all the things in between so I look at the white wall
It is five years it was painted, but it still looks new.
No, this is too hard I will go and make a coffee eat
A biscuit and think the freezer need to be defrosted

*** & the Sea
We do live in a moral time the exchange of money
for some company, a meal and laughter.,
is frown upon, but without these willing women my
life as a seafarer would have been an impossibility.
There were married ****** who stayed on a ship for
two years to save money, but they never thought of
the ****** life of their wives. Mind, some of the women
had lovers, and why not? Being married to idiots was
not easy, and they could not write to their husbands
and say: “come home and do me over.”

Prostitution is bad it is about using women for ******
gratification, but it is a business if properly seen to
help many lonely men, who because of are victim and
not thoughtless oxen smelling a cow in season.

Painting with words          

The ash in the wood burner is still warm white and esoteric
an unborn dream a sin to shovel into a sink bucket when
it looks holy and ought to be strewn upon the tranquil sea
with the first drop of rain the ash in the bucket a dust cloud
disperse like souls in the forest but, as the shower increases
the ash drowns becomes silt when the rain stops, and the sun
warms crops the grieving has passed

Baltimore.
They came here, the black population, from the south, to get work
In factories and the rate of pay for them the poor from the south,
Was good and a neighbourhood evolved, there was progress and
Peace thriving working class districts. Capitalism is not about safety,
Shifting luck the industry moved abroad where wages are cheaper,
And where should the people go? Boarded up shops, factories and
Broken windows, where should the people go? Restless youth no
One has given them any education, where should the people go?
Being black and suffering the stigma of having been sons of slaves to
Break out of the stigma of inferiority is not easy and often its ends
In frustrated and depressed violence.
The black people of Baltimore are suffering the same contempt as my
Parents did  in Norway simply for being working class. Askew is
The capitalist foundation, force into life a socialist party a force if needed
Without compromise, a political transformation.  When politicians say
they work for the middle-class people; we know the black working-class
is  blissfully excluded.

The Compliment
At the Pharmacy I met Hans, an old friend I didn't recognise
him at first he wore glasses and had a Nordic face I thought
it was me ten years ago; he has a sheep farm, the Germans,
are an industrial people.
At the green-grocer, I met an Irish woman she recognised me
from one of my books she has some of them and I was chuffed.
When I meet someone who has read my books, it is not often,
I take a step back in fear they might be critical of my spelling-  
mistakes I have no self- confidence therefore to meet one
who likes what I have written and does not tell me how to write
I grow a little and decorously blush and go home tell my wife
all about it then we have lunch and I have to clean the dishes.

To a friend

A friend of mine ended up in a hospital
His heart had taken a heavy load of a hard life.
I told him he was no longer Tarzan. but a middle-aged man
whatever unresolved problem he has in the past
he had to leave it behind in the heap of hurts and slights
that hatred only damages the hater.
I spoke from experience, I had been where he is now.

Water Everywhere
A dam burst in Iraq and that's how it began it rained for months
and no one had thought of building a Noah’s ark fill it with pigs
to feast on when Christmas came around but there would be
too many objections from practising Jews, vegans, not forgetting
Muslims and the two Semitic people's family would squabble as
they have done for centuries and the vegan's would eat seagrass.
When Himalaya was a reef sailors on ships had eaten each other
sardines, a metre and twenty long, danced in The Radio Music Hall
a shimmering synchronised display entertaining dolphins; and
the Wall Street was a hangout for hammer- head sharks as were
the way of the pre-flooding days. Finally, the water ebbed enough
for the only man left to go ashore on the reef and dry his feet,
burning his raft, smoke a cigarette and wondering, what happened
to the blue whales.

A cigarette

Dawn and the mist, what else expect
On Lake Martin early spring?
Swamp cypress dripping with Spanish moss.
I have stopped rowing, water swirling around
Oar blades.
The silence is absolute; I dare not inhale
A bird shrieks, the lake shudders
An evil thought has entered Paradise.
I hear the faint noise of outboard motors
The moment of ethereal stillness was gone,
I lit a cigarette smoke inhale, blow
Rings of delight in the morning air.

At The Meeting
At the meeting, I was trying to find a horrific tale something
bad I had done when drunk I wanted to get off my chest but
I could not remember anything other than when ten a puppy dog
on the window sill lost its balance and fell into the yard
it wasn't hurt, but I did feel bad.
So I told the story as it had happened forty years in the future
I legless has pushed the dog out of the window and ***** my granny.
Ok, **** can happen but to **** a dog that way was heinous
A few others told their story they could not match mine I had
won hands down, later we drank tea and ate biscuits, and we walked
home feeling in a mellow mood.

Sleepless Night

Butterflies in the glade
Settled I my eyes as a carpet of sleep
A dog barked
They took flight
Flapping wings dispersed in the night
Awake like the day
At a time when all flowers are grey
And wings of dreams fly high
Butterflies in the glade settle in my
Eyes as a carpet of sleep

How I became a sea-cook

I have been a high ranking officer in the foreign legion
I have also been a sea master and a captain-lieutenant
in the American air force, flying anything from helicopters
to transport planes and jet bombers
I was in Vietnam when my moment of glory came, when general
Westmoreland's helicopter got problem and had to land
in a clearing, in panic radio silence was broken and
the North Vietnamese army moved in, it was then my expertise
kicked in I knew the area used a small chopper and saved
Him and his next in command, the pilot, was left to fend
for himself- he made it to the Mekong river and was picked up.
Westmorland was an ill-tempered man complained he could
smell alcohol on my breath- how else to fight this stupid war.
They gave me a medal and kicked me out, but I was still
employed by the foreign legion who gave me medals too before
transferring me to secret service duty.
My job was to find soldiers of the legion who had absconded
and committed crimes while in uniform.
The order was clear, bring them back or silence them,
but I’m not suited for this work, so I quit and became a cook in
the merchant navy.

Hectic day
Hectic day

An eventful day this Saturday
A man is shot to death at Orly airport
clearly out of his mind and France is under
lock down; the hysteria is taking hold
a laptop in a car was stolen it sensitive
information or perhaps not
a man tries to climb the fence at the White House
and there is blood on the carpet
those on duty should have known and not eat
doughnuts when looking at the security screen
dogs and men are prowling the lawn outside
they must be seen doing something
one can say this have been a day of a none –event
and Mosul it is a side show.
At Fox News, long legged girls- with Botox faces- blame
the Chinese, Trump's pet hate.
The French were not sure who to blame think
the mayhem might have been caused by Iran or
the Germans for taking in too many Syrians.
And over us like Damocles' sword….Trump telling
us all will be fantastic and work for everyone.

Terra Dal Fuego (sonnet)
Ushuaia the southernmost town in Argentine when I dreamt
of going there, we got around about on sturdy horses
herding sheep with Portuguese immigrants, islands protect
Terra Del Fuego from worst of the oceans meet, and it is
called the roaring forties. Now it is a modern town no horse
manure in the road the smell of wet wool has gone too
yachts moored in the harbour they sail the Magellan Strait
thus avoiding the duel where two giant oceans meet

Ushuaia was the end of the world no one came here except
weird people and no temperature difference between
the seasons, yet no it is bustling with would be sailors with
rolling gait suited for a heaving deck, but they can wait for
calmer weather; the amateur sailors wore a captain’s cap  
and blue blazers with shiny buttons on

Refugees
I know of a forest where all trees are equally tall
and the distant between them is strangely wide
this so they can get the same amount of sun and
rain will fall evenly on plants and mossy ground.
Trees grow fast here and next year they will be
harvested and new sampling planted.

For the birds, rabbits and foxes that had made
a home at what can be called a new estate will
have to move or find shelter in the old forest
that is full of thorny bushes deep shadow and
and ****** boars that never had a bath unless
caught out in the rain

Nests will be too near others there will squabble
rabbits and foxes have to make new burrows
and they will be snubbed by the old dwellers who
will call them lazy or even worse new-rich should
the have shiny fur or colourful feathers and
will not be sent a Christmas card that year.

Agoraphobia

I lifted my glass of red wine, towards the lamplight as seeing
it through a dreamy haze, what I saw was a ***** glass full
of finger marks; couldn't blame the barman since I was alone,
and dreaming of being an actor.
I was on stage once – a friend of mine was an actor- it was
terrifying I forgot the lines “dinner is served, my lord.”
I saw my friend act in a movie, made in Portugal he was Lesley Howard
and was perfect in his role.
This is about agoraphobia which has blighted my life and has disappointed
many by a promise to show up and not going, feign I got the date wrong.
I told that too –tom Hardy who swore he could cure me hence my little role;
Well, Tom died.
My wife has gone to a party, and I'm looking after the cat, it does
not know how famous I could have been.

Grenfell
A big housing machine in London has burnt down
It was a place where the poor and refugees were sent, it didn't
Have a sprinkler system no fire alarm
And it was clad in combustible material to save money but for whom?
This was a criminal act perhaps 100 people have been incinerated
The fire people are still looking and they still have many floors to go
Searching for carbonated bodies
For the rich and the poor alike London is a beautiful place this summer
But the dark smoke from a burnt out building hinder the sun
And green grass has layers of ash from those who didn't have a voice.
We must not be silent push this crime way from our consciousness
For it will happen again and again if we stop demanding our right
To be respected by our leader as equal
There is no Snowdon in the building trade.
You must not sleep this summer night go out of your houses
Switch off your TV and claim you right.  
There is summer in London but not a joyous one the heart is sad
But Britain can be beautiful again if you want it and not
Believe you are helpless.

Yang Sing River Disaster
A sudden squall in the river and the ferry was
high in the water and it capsized so quickly
that there was no time for alarm.
The passengers’ mostly elderly people who had
saved money to do this one in a life -time cruise.
The stalker death suddenly struck this was not
the way the old had planned to die.
The hope was a bed, near family around and
there would be words of everlasting love
propped up by embroidered pillows.
The Chinese love their old people – or did- now
they are angry want to know the sea- worthiness of
the ship, private or state-owned?  Someone has to
been found guilty, perhaps her captain?

Melancholy


This land of soft stones and olive trees
Welcomes me,

But I dream of Nordic earth with
Frost and obstinate granite.

And I ask myself, why is it so difficult
For me to forget you?

The Minimum wage

The olive tree in the landscape around here
Have a working class trunk and no illusion
Of Becoming middle-class as it has no aptitude
For learning stuff in a plant nursery, it doesn't
Envy those who want to be a tall palm tree
Good luck to those that want to see the view
From an elevated height  
Good soil and water the plebeian olive tree
Wants and it will not fall over in a storm

Love is a spring day.

In a parking lot, two plastic bags danced
in the spring breeze elegantly circled each other
came near almost, touched but danced away
only to dance close again and shyly kissed
A paper napkin with smeared lipstick
wanted to join in, but the dancers only had
eyes for one another.
shamed the napkin, took refuge under a car  
that drove off, no place to hide.
It danced alone in slow motion; eyes closed
as it was dreaming, the lipstick smiled.
A gust of wind blew the napkin to the sky
away from the parking lot, to a secret place
only exploited paper napkins know of.

The Laughing Matter
We laughed and laughed it was raining heavy we didn't see we were
off road and flew, still laughing- over
a precipice and landed in an opening in the forest
where rabbit congregates, we had laughed so much we had to go
out of the car and ***
Then it snowed big white flakes the stuff and rabbit appeared in
all white inquisitive as they are when stuck a neck in we rolled up
The window fried rabbits every day.
The dog got sick of the same food and wanted to go home
we didn't have that instinct but followed behind as luck would have it
was only five minutes away a farmer with his tractor took the car to
the mechanic and we laughed and laughed making funny noises
of the stuffed owl on the wall….the house took fire and people in white
took us to a care home where we were giving anti-laugh medicine,
funny hats and it was New Year Eve.  
What had caused this hilarity was because Hillary Clinton had lost
the election and Trump a millionaire was going to bring work to those on
the dole, of course, this will not happen and my car is not insured for
the Shoah that will engulf us

The Marshland
In the middle of the fen where the soil is full of rotting foliage,
roots of tree from the time the land was a forest,
a dam where ducks swim and as is the way of ducks noisy in
their chatter with each other, social bird with no musicality
I mean have you ever heard of an opus titled:
“When the ducks sing in Covent garden.”
Yet they like it here and can spot a Cheney miles away and
thus avoid getting water-boarded. We used to go there
the farmer and we dug into wet soil square sized turfs
which dried in the sun and in the fall we had carts full and
primordial roots that burned brightly when snow fell outside

Stone Stallion

A big rock in the field
He dedicated
Twenty years of his life
To make it look like a horse  
When he gave up
The rock looked as beautiful
As the first day, he saw it.

Israel the Failed state
It pains me to say this once I loved Israel
When she was declared a state, we're jubilant
And as Zionist said on radio the Palestinians
Can go and live in Jordan
There were few dissenting voices back then
We called them communists we call dissenters now
Then pictures of Jewish brutal repression of
The Palestine population and slowly it dawned
On us, they too needed a homeland Israel has  
Denied them and thousands have been killed
resisting this illegal occupying force.
The world is not naïve we see what is happening
this was not the survivor's dream to become oppressors.
To augment the population Israel let in Russian of
dubious Semitic origin, but they are useful in the army
killing is their second name.
Mind there are many Jews in Ethiopia, but they are black.
Poor Israel they stole a state they could live in without
insisting on Judaism as the only faith
It is all too sad it could have been a place of olive trees
and goats with the sun in their eyes.

After Rain

The audacious sun finally showed up, and green was
the winter landscape, I also saw the sun set just behind
the carob tree, where the almond tree first blossom,
asleep under a carpet of wild flowers and snoozed till dawn.
Over the easterly range, which is the first defence against
Spanish Marauders and the rain on its plane, the clouds
were dark blue, perhaps more rain tomorrow?
In fading light, a musical note danced down the phone line,
the first flirt of spring? And should it rain tomorrow I will
not be downhearted, this day will keep me warm for
weeks to come.

The Female Migrant
A customs official found a suitcase with a forgotten
Syrian refugee lady in it, he took her home blew life
into her and he was no longer alone.
Bought her **** underwear skirt and blouse and
a bicycle pump and no longer did he bother going out
drinking beer with his fellow officers.
A perfect little refugee she was so undemanding
and silent not for her to turn her back complaining
of a headache and other female ailments.
After wild night they had done it five times, she had
she had shrunk a morning there was a tear somewhere
in her *****, that could not be repaired or glued.
With manly logic, he blamed the refugees swamping his
country living off the fat of the land doing nothing and
thus, a love story ended on the scrap heap of humanity.

The love not spoken of

Newcastle and it was summer I had been paid off
from my ship and sat a the train station waiting for
a train to take me to Liverpool when a young man
came and sat near me. He was beautiful the nearest
I have been to human perfection and we spoke
about life, we were going to a cabin somewhere in
a Scottish hill but he didn't like to be alone and his
large brown eyes looked mournful and I was ready
to join him, but said nothing  because if  he followed
the boy  he would turn out to be human and demanding
a type of attention I could not give without corruption  
His train left before mine I waved and that was that,
when I arrived a Lime street station I was drunk and
spent a night with a ******* and she killed a beautiful
man sitting alone in a cabin in some god- forsaken dale.

The Feast
The vines are deep green no budding grapes yet,
that will start life as small verdant glass pearls
slowing turning dark red and sweet as generation
before; the essence, of sun, rain and rust red soil
and caring hands. And when the pig is taken out of
its stay and slaughtered in November, there will
much wine drunk and the delicious aroma of roast
pork will be a part of memories of families sat on
a long table in the yard and dogs with full stomach
will love humanity for all time. The sow left behind
piglets and one of them will be the chosen one, so
the tradition can continue into the future.

The New India

India, he said
Has embraced Americanism
People are consumers
India is proud to be Middle class
The echo of the poor will not end


Deny it, if you can
But through your heart and mind
You can't ignore the cry
The masses' hunger and despair
Leave us not behind we are Indians too

Animals and Madness
A floppy-eared rabbit is
a cuddly lover
it will not let you down.
Wild boars are ugly
unloved they roam the forest
looking for food
The cuddly rabbit died of old
age and children cried.
A bullet felled the boar and
it fed us a tasteful midday meal.

There I was in Heaven
Playing a game of Ping Pong
When I got a call from God
“I have a job for you going
Down to earth
And be born again.”
I protested “last time I was
On earth
There was a war on
I was hit
By an arrow in my chest
It was painful.”
“You have to”, he said
“A newly born needs a soul
Before you know it you will
Be back up here again.”
Gave me a hug he did
I'm still waiting, I forgot
For God time is meaningless
As he dwells in the abstract

Heart Surgery
Eleven years ago despite my better self there was a residue
of Christianity lurking in my mind. in the morning a nurse
came around and gave me a blue oblong tablet, I swallowed
dutifully and continued to read from my collection of poetry
when I woke up six hours had gone and I had no recollection
and if the surgery had not been successful I would have been
none the wiser. The surgeon came, a pompous twit telling me
it had been touch and go. I thanked him for his efforts but was
pre- occupied by my total lack of any form of hereafter stuff.
Recently I fell off my perch, my wife called the ambulance and
I sensed death circling, but I had no fear. When, I got better
I sorted out my will I would not like to leave my wife penniless
this gave me the sense of freedom, as for my youthful sins that are
water under the bridge of a life of ribaldry.

The Lay of the Land

If my thoughts had wings
Or better still had arrows and a bow
To pierce your heart
You will open your emerald eyes
As only seen in the sea of Greenland
Seek my embrace
We will be the sky and the earth
Filling the air with fog
Before we make love
Our Titanic love is too great for
Sluggish humanity to clasp
Kiss me slowly caress me long
And we will purify a putrefied world.

Tanka

Tiny footsteps
Leading to a decorative pond
It had lilies and leaves
A scream tore the sky apart
Lilies and leaves