A Fable Sonnet
I was flying high, yet it was hot my wings were tired
Spotted a well flew down and sat by its side
leant forward and saw me in the still cool water,
but I saw something else a dark shadow pushed me
and I fell into the cold water, looked up but the evil
wasn’t there and as the sun was going west daylight
disappeared, but luckily for me, I had sharp talons and
could claw my way back up to the rim of the well.

It was night and evil sat by the fireside reading a book
of magic I couched its eyes out its scream brought
thunder and hailstones and evil ran outside to cool his
dead eyes he fell the well and called for help
what could I do a bird with silky feathers I flew up to
the sky and his screams bore the suffering of humankind

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.

The Farming couple


The farmer and his wife
is harvesting almond
a net around the tree and
a long stick
she picks up the nuts and puts
them in a bag.
She is not wearing gloves and
her hands are that of
an old salt.
they  go home for lunch
home- made bread and cheese
she does the washing up
while he snooze a little  
in the autumnal sun.

Santa Claus

Now that Christmas has become irrelevant but is a commercial success story,
isn't it time we have a female Santa.
The first Santa I saw as a toddler was the neighbour
a rather stout lady, with a false beard she was Santa,
I hid behind my mother who whispered
don't be frightened it is Mrs Strom, which disappointed me,
I wanted so very much to believe.
Going home, it was snowing, and I asked: is there a real Santa
mum, is he a friend of Jesus?
Not wanting to disappoint me she said something about beliefs and faith,
of which I understood nothing, but I had
the feeling they were make-believe, and that was ok for me.

A few words

Absence
Is not a peace
It is possibilities
Wasted


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


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

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.

A flat in Town

Tomorrow most of the time there is one, but for some, the unlucky
who died the day before, and rest in a coffin in a cold church, the tomorrow came too late,
I will be moving into a flat on the fifth floor in Loule.
See many roofs and if I stand on a ladder also see the Atlantic Sea and with binoculars
catch a sight of a passing ship.
Life will be so easy take the lift down to the street walk into
a café and drink coffee; I usually make my coffee but what the hell.
There is a park nearby with pretty flowers and tame trees.
The bank manager shakes her head did some calculation asks me about
my age and before I can push the question away with a joke my wife stepped
in and told  
What I cannot tell anyone if the loan I need is refused, I will look mournful  
yet relieved that I do not have to write poetry  about the colours on flat roofs
and the sea is forever green I do not need a ladder to know this.

Fleece a dream

The man with thin shoulders and a sack
slung on one of them, used to stop outside my house
open the bag and strew a handful of feather light dreams,
and some dreams landed on the window ledge.
I remember she said, be careful don't fall out when
trying to grasp a flake of a dream so easily forgotten.

The man with the thin shoulders has disappeared from
the street no one knew where he had gone, so I went
out looking for him all I found in an empty pond with
a rusty tin of castor oil a product long since in use.
I left the can in the garden in the hope enticing the man
to return with his sack of visions.

A fluff of life

He sensed something on the window ledge
it was an insect of the summer past
its hue was grey totally exhausted it could not fly anymore.
He took it inside. put it under the lamp
slowly its colours appeared it moved dreamy wings,
a residue of spring.
He said I like to call you a rainbow.
He left the light on when leaving the room
The Rainbow had tried so hard.
In the morning the battle was over
a piece of fluff the draft from the open door blew away.

A Flying Bagatelle

Through the open door
come flying
a sparrow grey
of no distinction
it sat on
the printer
looked at me
quizzically
the phone rang
startled it flew to the
window
caught in the curtains
I got it lose
carried the bird
to the door let it go
that was all
no epiphany
nothing mystical
just a bewildered bird
a ringing phone
and a magic moment

A folktale
There is a small country sharing part of its border
to a giant country, both have been friends for
over 300 years during world war two they came
helped the small country to get rid of the enemy.
Then propaganda articles appeared in many papers
how bad the government in the big country was,
(Let us make it easy the small country we can call
Norway and big the country Russia) the Norwegian
took no notice, they visited Russia often to buy
*****, cigarettes and other items that are expensive
in their little country; and some travelled to Moskva
which has a rich cultural heritage.
Then the Americans/NATO held a proxy war and
the American soldiers and tanks got in the way
of tour buses, needless to say, the soldiers were
confused that the people from the tiny country
we’re not afraid of the big bear this because of the
US combatants were victims of lying propaganda.
Well, the military nonsense ended their proxy war
the Norwegian continued to travel to Russia to do
their shopping and as always they were welcomed
and no one mentioned the silly manoeuvres by
the misguided military personnel were playing in the snow.

The forest dog

A dog lived in the forest
I think it was a she
It avoided conteact with people
The forest was full of rabbits.
I sat on a stone in the glade
For a long time it ignored me,
But one deay it came near
I fed him a sandwich, later on
It let me pick ticks of its fur
Before backing into the bushes.
On my walks, I often sat on the stone
Sometimes the dog came and sat
Beside me for a while.
When the hunters came it disappeared
And stayed away for weeks.
One day I found the dog near the stone
In the glade, it had been killed.
Humanity is an ugly beast slay for
Pleasure and not for food

A friendly place
There are no catfish in our little lake
but it has giant frogs, and some of them die if they are late
and the sun warms just standing on stone unable to move
Fodder for the crows. There are no dangerous animals
except for boars with a litter and snakes slither away
there were rumours some years ago about a panther-like
like being and farmers cocked their guns
I went to have a look it was a cat that was glad to see me
took it home opened a tin of tuna it purred happily.
It was an independent cat sometimes it disappeared for weeks
then came home telling me nothing, after sleeping in the cupboard
all day it went out and never came back, perhaps it had met a fox
and I relived the struggle must have had before losing.
I had a dog once she lived to be sixteen years and I never trained
her to give paw and chase ***** and she told me when it was
time to go for a walk, I don't walk much now I have no one looking
out for me, my friends called her my daughter.
I have been offered a dog but refuse I think what will happen
to it should I die?

A friendly Story
He the modest farmer was cutting green juicy spring grass
those that had spring flowers entwined it was for his donkey
that had been in the stable in the winter
He put the fodder in a jute sack and when it was full carried
it home to the donkey now in the yard
The animal ate and ate alas there can be too much of a good thing
its stomach full of gas it took flight over the mountain to Spain
where it landed outside the famous cathedral in Seville
Its arrival caused some uproar the believers looked up and said
but where is Jesus?” An *** and Jesus they had read their Bible.

For one day there was not a word about presidential election
In the USA, but a story of a beast that had eaten too much spring
grass and was full of gas but the story ended well the donkey was
sent back to the unassertive farmer in Portugal

A Friend of the Mouse

Outside on the bottom wall of an old house
I saw a tiny mouse, picked it up it didn't offer resistance
I looked the small life with wonder
It had lungs, eyes, a beating heart just like me, and a brain too
But of course its world view was
From a perspective of the place it occupied the election of
Trump not its concern and the feeding frenzy of the mass media,
The hysteria and wrong conclusions not to forget the hatred
Of those who thought they deserved to win.
I put the mouse down, it disappeared into a hole, and it will
Perhaps say to its friend:” God held me in his hands but let
Me walk in peace, I feel blessed.”

A friendly Story
He the modest farmer was cutting green juicy spring grass
those that had spring flowers entwined it was for his donkey
that had been in the stable in the winter
He put the fodder in a jute sack and when it was full carried
it home to the donkey now in the yard
The animal ate and ate alas there can be too much of a good thing
its stomach full of gas it took flight over the mountain to Spain
where it landed outside the famous cathedral in Seville
Its arrival caused some uproar the believers looked up and said
but where is Jesus?” An *** and Jesus they had read their Bible.

For one day there was not a word about presidential election
In the USA, but a story of a beast that had eaten too much spring
grass and was full of gas but the story ended well the donkey was
sent back to the unassertive farmer in Portugal

After a storm


There was a storm in the bay,
blue waves crashing ashore
and flooded the coastal road-
Today the bay is calm but look
at sea, it is grey anger
doesn’t becomes it.
The Haar is coming in a shawl of mist covers
the cargo ships
that moves lazily on a temporary tranquillity.

Afterlife

They came
Men with sharp axes
chopped down
the old oak.
It's shadow
stood there
out of habit.
At sundown
it disappeared.

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 dawn, after the rain had trumpet its force on the old roof tiles
it ceased to a soft drizzle harmless and tender.
Yes, I know I should get up at seven steeped as I´m a protestant work ethic.
Overcome by laziness, I slept for two hours more.
In my drowsiness, thought about how our freedom has been restricted by the internet,
our thought and secrets are no longer our property but shared by authorities that want
to know our innermost thoughts.
We are prisoners of an all-embracing society that will not tolerate thoughts
other than banal comments about a friend's birthday.
What we heralded as a great instrument for communication
is perverted and spied on by our leaders.
Free speech only exists for those who have nothing to say and accept living
in the land of the convention.
Nothing can be nobler if we demand our right
not to be censured
and called seditious because we will not be trapped
in the trivial acceptance of perceived lies.

After the Concert
…And now in the afternoon of my life
my thoughts are about love and romance
these pesky things that disturbed my tough
exterior and made me soft and weepy
when no one looked are now in the forefront
Yes, I'm a sentimental old fool
words of love and music for the heart makes
me cry it loosens the knot of old
resentments and tells me nothing matter in life
except loving someone and not to be afraid
to say so, love is freedom it gladdens the tired heart
and cleanses the dust that has fallen on the wisdom
and truth.

A Gentleman´s Alexandria

His wife came into the living room looking sideways
she had brought cold beer and snacks.
She walked back to the kitchen where their four daughters sat.
This was a modern household; his wife wore no vail.
When we left the children had disappeared, just as well
I don´t know how to speak to the young ones.
My Egyptian friend took me to a nightclub, music and noise
not to forget belly dancers.
My friend soon left with one of them, and that was ok,
I had been his cover for a night out, and all bills were paid for.
Strange man, the shipping clerk, he had four daughters but no boys and that made him sad.

Ages
When I was young my youth lasted a long time.
When someone said next year, it sounded as it was forever.
I remember the long summers
but realize it is the sum of many summers.
Since in our estimation summer lasted long into autumn
and mild winter.
The real cold season lasted a month, and since
We didn´t sit still it didn´t feel so cold.
Now that I'm old the seasons whirl faster and faster rapid
I get dizzy and have to sit down or hold on to my cane.
the tremendous speed is accelerating towards doom and the hope
of another spring.

A Christmas gift spurned

In a busy Christmas street, I saw her; I was sure it was her,
the way she walked, I could sense her perfume too.
Ran after her, touched her shoulder said halloo, she turned
I had been wrong and said sorry.
She smiled and said, no it is only me what you see.
I read an invitation in her dark brown eyes, but I was hopelessly
in love with a blond, the mythical one.
Said sorry again, flapped my wings and flew high into the night sky
so seek her among the stars.
In the cool outer space, I realized the fabled woman was an angel
And I was an earthling I dived back to earth like a Stuka bomber, skidded on slush,
looked in vain for the woman with brown eyes

A Glorious Moment

The bedroom was in semi-darkness your body glowed
I kissed every part of it now I licked your ******, you stopped me
Didn't want the moment to end.
Now you wanted me to take you from behind this silky
Smoothness I had to stop, we lie still till you moved and I moved too
Faster and faster we ******* at the same time.
You turned around embraced me, and thus we fell asleep.
When we awoke it was dusk we had been in heaven, but now we
We're back on earth and someone had knocked on the door.

A Good Lunch

They didn't have a good cook at the restaurant
on the first floor, they have got a new one now
and it showed, we had a Stroganoff with rice
it was so good we had a glass of red wine each.
It proves my adage you can make a restaurant
with posh sitting and décor but its reputation
depends on the food served.
In my youth, this was not understood and you
got a resentful, rebellious character smelling
of drinks because he had to serve the cheapest
dish, again and again, this didn't matter so much
as people came to drink wine and sod the food.

Good News Day

Yesterday and it was a long day I’ve edited poems written
15 years ago, spelling tends to let me down, but slowly I get the hang of it
Back from the ecologist, I'm cancer free and that is great.
I had hoped we could eat out, but my wife is frying filets of fish
that has been breaded and look like schnitzel no matter what you with fish
I still don't like it, perhaps canned tunny.
But truth be told – always? - I have to do the dishes when dining at home
the only good thing with hand wash the dishes is clean fingernails.
My mother had so much dirt under hers, it was possible to plant cabbage,
but not deep enough for potatoes; it is fair it was mostly tobacco as she
hand rolled her cigarettes; I tried to but got nicotine fingers it looked
like I had my left hand permanently stuck up my ***.
For the sake of the good news, I will not carp eat the fish and be glad.

If I tell you that Maria Magdalene
gave Jesus a ******* to ease his pain
when on the cross.
would that be seen as a charitable act
or a sinful thing to do?
or will my words upset the right-winged
Christians so much they would try to
to silence me with a sword of indignant hatred?
I just ask.
Nowadays we get upset about so many things
that we have to sift through our mind what to write
in order not to upset the religious narrative.

The Great Man

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

Horse Story
Whatever you do a horse will not be accepted in
bar or an inn, our horse after hours of ploughing soil
was give beer to drink, this because the home made
beer the farmer had brewed wasn’t any god.
The horse drank deeply but after a rest it got truculent
and refused the harness, The farmer gave it more
beer to mollify the horse, but no this was a day when
it said no. The horse trotted to the nearest town
found an inn and asked for a beer, deep silence, drinkers
joined AA, no good for business the innkeeper called
the police and got a the horse back to the farm where it
had to sober up in a field tied to a tree, and the farmer
had to pay a fine for giving alcohol to an animal

A July day


Twilight in the village shuttered windows
I’m walking alone, they have all died, dogs  
too and cats have gone feral.

Stale heat, as heavy as a stage curtain full of forgotten tragedies,
hangs in the air.
I take no pleasure of this walk, but I have been indoors all day waiting
for sun-fall and a cool breeze….

Back home I open windows, share my light with the night.  
Sit on the sofa move my toes,
a man needs exercise, and watch the news on TV

A Kind of Christmas

Screaming voices a decorated tree flew
though the open French window.
In the bedroom, a woman cried, in the basement den a man
sat with a bottle of whisky, the children
sat in the living room eating sweets and waited
for the storm to blow over.
It was like this every Christmas, it was so much better
when they both went to work when the parents had a few days free
they went on each other’s nerves.
Soon the booth would come out of their rooms, shower the children
with love, the man took the tree in from the garden
and the Eve would continue

The king and democracy
3.
king of Norway sits in his living room watching TV
and thinking of the old day when they lived in a big castle
which is now a museum and a nursery on the first floor.
The problem is the pesky democracy where everyone is equal
so much, so his wife left him for a shopkeeper.
His son and daughter live in Lisbon, Portugal is also
a democracy only less so, and the people address them as princess and crown-prince.
The king speaks to them on Skype, he is getting old and
remind his children they are royals, his children laugh
how can you get respect when you are not allowed to use
your titles and when they walk in the street, no one takes their hats off.
No, socialist/democracy makes royalty impossible.

A labour politician


  He is a short man with an evil nisse  mentality
his long-term views are that of a political opportunity
  of one who read a paper before it is printed.
What can you say about a man who has been married?
five times is it because he uses women as tools because
they disagree with his views or because the might say
something that might destroy hidden carefully
constructed by a person of the left crafted to be ambiguous
and no one would know he was intellectually dishonest
like calling the Jews Zionists, those I met were perfectly normal
and lamented they were prisoners of propaganda and misdeed
of the cultural connection that had hatred in its heart

A lady’s dilemma  

Her mind and body are restless
she is in her late-middle-age
a difficult time for a woman.
Her long relationship with a well-off man
has made her economically safe
but she is bored
thinks there has to be some more
before she loses her looks
and disappears into elderliness.
She has grown up with children
they don´t need her as much as before.
A part of her also likes to be settled
married and have a home of her own
She is also worried about her legacy
be sure her children
have something to remember her by.
There is something hectic about her
like time is running out
She might seek solace from her turmoil
in another man’s arms.
She is in a dangerous time of life
I hope she chooses the right path.

A Land up North

This mythical land
Dreamily remembered
Tall forest tree
The blue lake that inhales
Stillness
A twig breaking
A sound wave of nature's music
The hares so white
Children of the snow
Hunters are out
Blood on snow
Reality was but a dream
In a sick bed
Looking out
To rain swept road
Nothing is
What was is nothing
But a dream.

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 lawyer's reward

A big tragedy happened churches were full of
kneeling people to make them humble in God's eyes
they pray all day sincerely but nevertheless show
show observance for the plane that fell.
Prayers turn to anger compensation in the air no fuel
in the plane, we deserve money for our loss  
the Lord is replaced by the aroma of moral reward to
overcome loss, lawyers, and vultures of death, step in
what could have been fixed in weeks takes years they
Fan the flame of injustice. Finally, a deal is struck,
but when the lawyers get them the fee there is less than
the mourners expected the buzzards had won a victory
the dearly departed have become something written in
a document to sign and money paid and the ambulance
chasers can seek out another target of an accident

Albatross
She has an albatross sits on her shoulder it doesn't
lay eggs. Grey-faced this burden
demanding to be fed. ***** floppy wings
and shrieks, her mother has bird droppings
on the back of her coat

The alcohol problem

They say the scientist, alcohol shrinks your brain
and is a cause for violence.
I’m not so sure, in Muslim countries, they are quick
to ****** people, and good humour appears
to be lost in oil-wells and sand.
In Pakistan, alcohol is forbidden and what a mess
the country makes drowning in hatred against reason.
Banning alcoholic drinks is to stop people
seeing the truth, and using religion as a weapon
What shrinks in the brain is the banal, the trite
what is left is sanity pure as ***** on the rocks
and cold morning beer.

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.

Aleppo and Mosul
It is interesting to read how newspapers
like the Guardian changes the way it portrays the war
The Russians are bombing Aleppo they want the rebels out
hence civilians to get killed and it is the Russians who are
The criminals. In Mosul the USA is bombing
and they have troops on the ground
many civilians will be killed, but that is
the fault of IS so we are understanding of this and will dream
of calling them criminal

A lesson learnt
    
The ship I saw in the bay and thought a princess of the seas
came back this afternoon when the sky was murky, she was sad
the cook was fired, and the crew was sorrowful.
Nothing wrong with the new cook, but as good as the old one
The cook had read too much Hemingway and wanted to be like him.
He took to calling the ship “el Pilar” and drinking whisky in the morning.
Forgetting to put yeast in the dough when baking bread.
It was all too much the cook had to go or stop reading Hemingway.
He did neither.
When he sobered up trying to find a new job, he regretted
his fondness of the famous writer.
His predicament is a solitary lesson for every reader, do not believe
what the author writes he is just telling a story.

A letter of love
He is old, ten years ago he was old also
if lesser in years.
She is his niece, but love is like rain
falls where it pleases.
The Rain in Spain has nothing to do with this
as rain has nothing to do with love.
He wrote a poem about her long hair and sleek body
her dark brown eyes as well.
She cast her head angrily; what can he do a helpless mute.
It was not his intention to do anything about his love for her
dictated for his love for her.
Her indignity she was ashamed her uncle had had improper thought
he wrote the poem out of love.
She doesn’t ring anymore, the infatuation was abstract,
not meant to come to fruition that is not reprehensible.
Love has its rhythm like the ocean’s waves.

Alfred

Alfred, the pianist who is also my father
although he denies the paternity vehemently,
was in Hawaii and played the ukulele with
little success and went back to Europe.
Alfred the pianist and also my father, could
get the sweetest tones when he played and
women swooned in other men’s arms,
was when not playing of a rather sullen nature
he spent the day walking around town with
alpaca jacket end French bonnet, he looked ever
artistic and I followed him around; once when I fell
a bollard got in the way; he did help me up
and said; I'm not your father!
Alfred, the pianist and also my father, got to be
ninety-two and in the last years of his life was glad
to have a son even if it was a fake one as Alfred
was fond of pointing out

Alfred and the addiction

Alfred the pianist is my father who denies fatherhood
had stopped smoking, he had a golden cigarette holder
which he gave me I also noticed he hands trembled
this because he had stopped drinking. Usually,  had a glass
of wine at noon; for a fortnight Alfred avoided me if
he saw me on the street he walked another way, this naturally
made me feel hurt, my father avoiding me.
He came and asked for his cigarette holder, needed it like a prop,
so he was an actor now I sarcastically said to myself.
He had successfully stopped smoking he could leave it alone
as he was no longer addicted, to prove it lit up a cigarette; he smoked five
while we sat in the park and there was a whiff of port wine in the air.

Alfred getting old

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

Alfred has Arthritis
Since Alfred, the man who strenuously denies
fatherhood got arthritis in his hands, it often happens
when it gets cold. He sleeps to noon take forever
in the bathroom before going to town looking like an artist
in his alpaca jacket and French beret.
He eats lunch in town alone never think of inviting me
and in the evening watches Bulgarian soap opera,
having him here has put a strain I'm thinking of sending
he at home didn't think it would come to that.
He sits by the fire I buy the wood, I will tell him he is not
my father and tell him to leave; perhaps next winter.

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.

Alfred and the wilderness  

Alfred, who with the greatest of ease tells,
Me he is not my father and I went for a walk across chlorophyll filled 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.