Beer in a Bucket

The well is almost dry he could hear the bucket scraping
at the bottom and the bucket was only half full when
he brought it up, global warming was true, but he was
not sure whether it was caused by man or by a natural
The shift in the weather pattern, having read the once there
were palm trees in Greenland?
Once the well was full of cold, clear water and he used
to lower a bucket full of bottled beer down it and when
he hoisted it up the beer was cold; of course, he could
put the beer in the fridge, but it didn't have the sangfroid,
about it as everybody had a fridge.
He looked at his watch they were going out to eat she
said, not that he wanted to go out, people went on his
nerves, the good thing was the served cold beer, almost
as cold as the beer in the well.

Beer Sonnet

I have a bottle of German beer in the fridge
and naturally cloudy, first brewed in some small town
in Bavaria in 1624.
They didn’t make the beer clear and decided to call
the brew Dunkel (cloudy), PR, yes it existed it worked
now it is a world-famous beer.
It also cost a bit more, which never fails to attract snobs.
I opened the beer dislike the colour me, a Budweiser man
of the type brewed in the USA
A band of clouds was, obscuring the sunset it was Dunkel
a sentence not spoken but sensed even a child could get.
I drank the beer, let the tomorrow keep its secret.

The bees with wings

The bees are dying out
for someone who gets stung
it is not to gloat over,
but a matter of survival
for humankind and the fauna
around us.
There are four big trees outside
the apartment building
birds come there to rest
In the evening,
but they are not the destroyer of bees
pesticide is and
we keep glad-handing
this stuff over field and plants.
humanity in the quest to
produce better crops will in the end
**** us all.
When evening comes to the birds
make a racket like
A Japanese train station at five,
stressed people are killing themselves
so stop blaming the bees.

Morning before daylight

The summer is waning, still hot
But daylight takes longer to appear
it gets dark earlier than a week ago.
The Twitter this morning is full
Of Jeremy Corburn, the fightback
Has begun and bless him for this
He is a great man dedicated to
To the people.
Should he win there will be a mass
Exodus money flying east or west
By birds of prey that had money
to spare by plundering the people.
I sent a poem to twitter about dogs
It drowned by other voices.
In our time, poetry is not on the agenda.

Behind the Façade

Behind the Holyday Inn near the bus station used by
we the masses and immigrants, there are streets of houses
kept in the gloomy mode of semi-poverty and cheap wine.
I walked these streets windows shuttered, here and there
a small grocery shop run by Asians how they make a living
Is a wonder, cafes too I saw nearly went into one but it
looked so filthy I changed my mind, but did buy a can of
coke in the Asian's shop
We had been to the giant old hospital call -Ca Curry- and it
was old and decrepit, yet doctors and nurses struggle on
no money is spent on National Health now that we are in
the grip of neoliberalism.
She has bad hips and the wait for our bus was three hours
hence my excursion into the streets of boredom a part of
Lisbon no tourist would wish to see, no anyone famous had
lived here and “Fado” was flaking walls and peeling doors.
Back at the bus station I found in a corner a second-hand
book shop bought a book of a prose poetry and got one for
free, I sat beside her, tried to read  Portuguese and thought
it takes an Indian person to try selling poetry in Iberia.

Travel beyond the galaxy

When I can’t sleep at night
I close my eyes and see a myriad of stars
Some are red but mostly blue.
If I continue my odyssey through the galaxy
The star becomes rarer and further
Away from space where nothing stirs.
I’m looking into eternity it’s is cold and unfeeling
Travel through this vast space
I fear the vacuum, a ghostly immobility
Where nothing matters, never will.

Beware of Colours

It was about these flowers, you see,
blue a favourite colour for many they don't
realise this colour can bring on melancholy
The flowers have long stems were in a vase
day- fresh with dewdrops sprinkled on
their leaf, how beautiful isn’t a goat would not hesitate.
Tomorrow the flowers will still be blue after
seven people committed suicide and a blind
the man could feel their suffering paleness.
Tired of funerals she paints sprayed the bloom
deep red and a war broke out in Sudan.
On the third day the flowers, now ashen grey
in the vase were dumped in a heap at
the bottom of the garden, hunger erupted
in Africa and Yemen skeletal children make
a good copy in black& white.

Beware of Poets
Don't trust a poet' s declaration of love
it is the words he means, the turn of a phrase
you just happen to be there as he looks you in
the eyes thinking; I have to write down that
before I forget it
Sometimes he finds a serviette borrow a pen
writes down words you thought was meant for you.
Drinking coffee with you, he appears restless
because he wants to go home and
fill out the poem he composed, alas he is not
thinking of you but of a wider audience

Bianca Jagger

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

Big rats in Copenhagen

The biggest supermarket in the world tons of wasted food
rats grew so big they couldn’t live in sewers but nestled
in the tall grass or built tunnels.
Something had to be done, rats didn’t hesitate to attack
toddlers in a pram; cats stayed at home sleeping
on the sofa, knowing they were no match against this enemy.
In this world of spoilt consumers, a banana had to be bright yellow
not a speck of marks on the fruit, lettuces had to look harvested
an hour ago, and the onion had to look new.
What to do with this new plague?
A bright person suggested giving excess food to the poor
and to the old on low pension.
After some economic indecision, the poor also to buy food
the supermarket relented and gave the wasted food away.
It was successful rats shrunk in size went back to the sewers cats came out.
People didn’t realize poverty were the poor as usual
was not seen.

Biography

I have tried to make a biography of myself
I managed three pages and found my life was so boring
it was not worth the effort.
I began fantasizing I had been a general in the foreign legion
worked in central Africa as in security agent
finding out of people who wanted a free country and not influenced
by Franc's interest in the region.
Unfortunate people were thrown into jail and some of them executed.
I helped France installing presidents who took bribes
and followed the will of the French.
Later on, Paris, I got information that someone was trying
to assassinate the De Gaulle, they were disgruntled officer that had
fled Algeria when France gave it independence, by doing so
was to make the region a Francophone sphere.
As an agent, I reported this the crazy generals went through with it
and an attempt on De Gaulle´s life followed.
Of course, the plot was thwarted and the guilty shot.
I got bad conscience about my work left the legion and got a job as a cook in the merchant navy, and that is nothing to write about.

The bird of hatred

A bird with enormous wing span is darkening
the sky over the Middle East and there is much
bloodshed as always when a new nation is born.
A good example is the birth of Israel it cost
the life untold by the losers in camps far from home.
Thousands of young men are finding adventures
and the order they seek so fervently waving black
flags knowing their nation will win no matter.
Who many headless corpses it makes take, but that
will be forgotten; we only remember the winner,
the Caliphate, which altered the map of the world
and made it a haven for an undiluted Islam to sink back
to the middle ages shifting sand.

Birthday

A day of sadness and wasted years a poet who
has to pay to be published how pathetic  is that?
We, my companion and I found a restaurant and
for lunch she ate something  African.
I had  a schnitzel that looked as the white meat of
a rat that had taken the pledge lost my appetite.
Instead, I had a double portion of fresh cut salad
followed by a tomato salad with a bit of mozzarella.
I lifted my glass of water saw the eatery  through
tears not shed, the few friends I had in Algarve
have all gone they could not stop in time.
The conversations, wit and bottles of red wine  
kept flowing, it had to stop so I took the bus home.
Now it is only my beloved and I left and every year
I love her more. At night with a heart full of dread
I snuggle up to her, she strokes my somnolent head
until I fall asleep again and sadness drifts away.

Birthday reflections


I have not written anything today because
it was my birthday yesterday, and that is rather depressing.
It goes like this when you are seven, and they give you a cake,
you can’t wait  to be eight, or in my case 80 and that thought
brings no joy other than marking the track to my demise with
fairy lights; and should someone give you a cake you can't eat
it because you have diabetes.
Enough about me!!! My dog died eight years ago she was
sorely missed a friend who always got in the last bark.
I once tried to commit suicide threw a rope across a beam
stood on my desk, for hours I stood there till someone knocked
on the door, it was the meter reader I was glad to see him
after standing on the desk for 5 hours I was beginning to feel a bit
ridiculous and the dog was sleeping on the sofa, not the slightest
concerned; so I go on living then that all I can do.

The Birth of life

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

Bitter Love

In the night, I whispered no one love like us
entwined we’re one body a mass of sated lust.
Her room above an ice-cream parlour was
an angle’s boudoir.
I left for work in a cloud of pink infatuation
and felt benevolent to all creatures in the world.
Nothing could touch me now the coast
was clear of underwater reefs.
Suddenly it changed a boyfriend, a fisherman
came back from the sea, it was him she loved
in our throes of ******, her thought was of him.
A fall from grace, total humiliation, the beauty
fragmented into thousand pieces of the utterly
repugnant memories.
She and her lover boarded a ferry to Denmark
and that was the end of our love affair.

Black life matters


The world is in one mind,
“ Black life matters.”
we wholeheartedly agree with the downtrodden
and we must remedy this inequity.
With books in hands, and not guns.
To pay, like we paid the Jews for the holocaust
is to reduce suffering down to cash.
For the black race, it is about dignity and equality
nothing more nothing less.
We the working-class brown or white are slaves
under the laissez-faire economic system which
has brought poverty and death for a majority
of people: who is going to pay us?
There is only one way, change the social system
that benefit us and let us work together
to the road to racial tolerance.

Black Sheep
It had been raining all day the sky as dark as inside my coat,
but at six in the afternoon, it was clearing up enough for me
to go the shop and buy a bottle of wine.
On the way I had to brake hard a sheep was on the ground
it had given in to life’s harsh reality, I didn't like the idea of
it being run over, got it up it had a broken a leg…bad news.
Got it to safety not that it mattered to the sheep it lied down
its chances was zero; the farmer would slaughter it and it
would be dinner for days.
Not that my action altruistic I shuddered by the idea of
blood and innards all over the road by being fodder a least
it was useful, a farmer with 200 sheep can't afford a vet.

Blame it on Israel

This day had no laughter and no wisdom of an old man at my age
I ought to tell people what to do give advice in my rocking- chair
Instead, I'm in a revolt of fifteen years old wanting peace blaming
the old generation I'm should smile telling them to be patient
when I have waited for the freedom of the Palestine people for
50 years and Israel is not the nation to blame for this
Like the death of a child should not be of importance yes dear,
so many children die this one was rescued in a ruin the child was
blinded blood pouring from his mouth
Can I as an old man in a rocking chair defend this action?
So many civilians killed in the Middle East the Arab world is at war
with itself hating each other for not belonging to the right religious
group and to think Islam is the faith of the peaceful but the reality is
different what we witness is Arab greed it is all about  money,
empathy was not especially an Arabic notion this idea of sticking
together pulling  the wagon out of the oily slime seems to be alien to them let us made this clear Palestine would have been a sovereign nation if the Arabic world had wanted them to have independence

Bless China and Mao Zedong

I have partly decorated my Christmas tree bless the Chinese for the blinking fairy light,
blue and yellow strings I think symbolise angels’ hair
not that I have seen any angels with blue-rinsed hair.
I haven't put up any baubles this year it is a bother to put them on the twigs.
My shoes are bought in the same shop they are ok, but don't last long,
I feel guilty now my socks and undergarment are made in China
that is how you destroy a country's economy buying from abroad; it's cheaper
for us on the low income, it is a vicious circle, more people get laid off they have
little money and had to but underwear and socks shop at a Chinse shop.

The wage for workers in the USA is now so cheap Pakistani factories are moving to
Detroit and Michigan, but for it to succeed the Americans have to build better
roads and new bridges. I digress the tree is fit for purpose comes in 3 sections and can
easily be kept in the shed until next year.
So bless the Chinse for making our Christmas possible this year too

Blessed Sunday

A sigh of relief Christmas is over
a few loose ends here and there
but the local shop is open
I need milk for my morning coffee.
Freedom at last released from
shackles of festivity.
We have house guests that are Ok
they have their quarter
and sleep late.
Raining, I have to drink black coffee
I don’t mind, what is great, is the peace.
Yesterday I printed a manuscript
“Equinox,” finally, I must say
one guest repaired the printer, gave him
wholly socks as presents.
So, let the day march on. I don’t care.

Blindness
I think I'm going blind
Have walked around the house blindfolded
Having lived in my hut for a hundred years
I know where everything is
I can put clothes in the washing machine and
And put a capsule of liquid soap into it
When it is finished, it bibs saying it is done
The tricky bit is to open the gas oven I tried today
And burnt my hands I kept it over the ring
To check if it was hot
Having a shower is easy I know my body intimately
The problem is how to call the gas people when the bottle is empty
My wife wants me to move to her flat on the seventh floor
I will sit on the terrace and not see the view of the bay
The sailboats and ship at anchors and I will never be able
To talk to friends on the Facebook
She and her daughter will be tired of me and push me
Out of the terrace and for two seconds I will be flying and
Be incredibly happy to be able to fly and in a trance not
Notice the impact; they will when looking out see the dent
I made in concrete and ask someone to resurface the spot.

Black liberation


BLM is a good and timely thing that happened
it freed black- America from the stigma of slavery
and freedom of the psychological burden
of being second class citizens.
But it was not meant to be a liberty to do as one pleased
upending statues and robbing stores.
This brings us to the police that must have the right
to to arrest trespassers,
But I fail to see why the law have to **** people because
they refuse to be arrested.
Let us bring back how slavery came about, it was
not a gang of white men running around catching people,
they could not have done this without the connivance
of the leading chieftains who had no hesitation
selling their own for a hefty profit.
I think this is important for the black-Americans to take
this into consideration before all white people are
brushed out of the true history

Blood Oranges

On a hill top I saw the sundown, but still, it made clouds
like blood -red oranges: in my childhood when there was
a rumour that a fruit shop was selling them there was a line of people
wanting to buy, they – the oranges- were sweeter than normal.
The sweat from Palestinians brows- one might assume- but we were
not to know this exploitation we thought the fruit Israeli and knew
nothing about Palestine.
The Jews had suffered much and deserved a homeland far away as
possible, anyway the Arab were not trusted the newspaper said; and
they were lazy, but know, we are aware a different story and the blood
in the oranges are tears of those who were evicted from their land to give
room for blood thirsty settlers.

The ****** Brexit

It should have been so simple
There was a referendum
People voted leave
And Britain should have withdrawn
In an orderly fashion; but no.
The remainders wouldn’t here
Of it and the spectacle become undignified.
One would think the UK didn’t exist
Before the EU it did.
Boris Johnson is an opportunist he is
Not remotely interested either way
He wants power
And the American why of health service
The leavers should not entertain him
But continue their fight to let Britain
Go its own way.

The blowing winds

As the wind blows from the North Atlantic Ocean
We are in awe by its forces but also scared us
Know in its power we are small dust particles.
Defeated, we stand and wait for its destruction.

Up and up the mountain wave the ship climbed
Down its *****, it raced, and we could only wait.

The wind can be a friend too when it blows
Ashore on a hot summer’s day and not forget
The morning breeze that gently caresses steers
Us to walk on roads the zephyr has dressed.

Boby Fett’s adventures

I used to be a friend of Joseph when he was a bank robber
when he robbed a bank in Tbilisi, I helped him to get away
the money he said was to help his cause.
One can say he owed me a favour, which came in handy.
There was a revolution and Joseph became a president
that was ok, but he became brutal and one evening
when we sat drinking Georgian wine, we had a discussion
I called him a butcher.
I thought I was going to be shot, but since he owed me a favour
I was sent to Siberia with a bag of potatoes.
Luckily, I had a box of matches in my pocket a knife hidden
in my shoe, therefore able to survive to the last potato.
A wandering Sami people with their heard of reindeers on
the way to Scandinavia saved me.
For the Sami tribe, there is no border.
I took my old name back, Harry Finkelstein, a name I had kept
secret from Joseph, my friend from the bank robber days.
I got a job on the Manhattan project keeping tab of screws
needed to make a bomb, the rest is history.

Boca do Inferno

There is a small narrow inlet
on the coast of Cascais, or rather a scare
in the landscape the sea comes in has nowhere to go
churns around like a witches’ brew it is like looking
into a watery hell.
A man jumped into this dervishes dance and vanished,
other suicide victims are typically washed
Out to sea. In this case, the man was pushed into a cave
no one knew existed the floor was thick with gold sand
and the walls were studded with diamonds
The man was ecstatic he was suddenly rich
the wealthiest man in the world; then he fell asleep.
In the morning he was hungry walked further
into the cave found a lake of pure water and drank
and drank till he stomachs almost burst.
On the other side of the lake, he saw a light, swam
across the water was freezing, high up there
a sliver of light narrow as a ******'s ******.
He knew he was doomed, back on to his riches
he sat down and cried could only think of a slice
of bread with blueberry on.
He sat there till he died of hunger and the world
would never know he was the wealthiest man on the earth.

Body obsession

Naked, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror
and asked are you sure this is you?
I’m a fat man with ******* and a big stomach but legs
thin as twigs on the almond tree.
I have diabetes, but that is no excuse, somehow
I eat too much
90% of my food intake is vegetables, not potatoes
no rice or bread, no beer most of the time, so how
could it come to this when what I like is banned?
I like whisky mixed with cold water before bedtime
and now I wait for the health brigade to tell me
Whisky is fattening, bad for the liver and the heart
I will not believe you; too many lies have been told.
I’m body shaming myself. Pathetic!!!

Bolivia

in Bolivia, the socialist won
the election, after the American inspired coup
against Evo Morales who had to flee his country
now he can come home again.
The world is turning to socialism to equality
before the conservative dictatorship like the one
the USA suffers under.
In our pandemic times, people see that salvation
is under a coequal society.
Whoever takes charge in the USA it will take longer
the people have been so long under the “freedom whip.”
it will take time for them to see that capitalism is for the few and does benefit the many.
The BLM might be the beginning of a change although,
I have my doubt.
But we must not underestimate the power of the monied class; they have the backing of the military and police
we might see a revolution that will be ******
the big corporation and Wall Street will not cede power unless they are defeated.

Bombing raids

I was born before the world war two and remember
sitting in the basement of a school, in the dark with fearful adults.
The bomber planes where British looking for the airport
but everything was in darkness, failing their objective
bombs were dropped hit house many died, and there was fire.
It must have made a big impression on me, although
I cannot remember the fear, but when I hear sirens, I panic and look for shelter.
Mother sent me to a farm in the countryside, as it happens
it was next door to a military camp and sometimes at night
when enemy planes were in the air and cannons were fired I shivered
in my bed and took to sit under a footbridge that crossed
a small river saw little fishes swim and shiny stones.
Otherwise, I had a good war except
I'm petrified by the look of guns and fireworks New Year’s Eve.

books

A book of vignettes, I think, is sent
too late for regrets, some of the writing has been
denied by several poetry sites
because they are rude and ****** but right.
Not being famous I have to pay for the printing.
Like my other books, it will not sell
a single copy but wash around the internet
like pebbles on the beach, the murmur is not
sorrow but the sigh of resignation.
I have not always been like this there was a time
when I was full of romantic poetry
sent them to small magazines, before they were
eaten by the internet, and sometimes
I had a poem or two published, and it is no longer
this way, that´s OK I like writing.

The Reef Unseen
He was fifty-five divorced living in a cottage but how
is it possible to explain how he came to fall in love with a woman
15 years younger and lose his dignity.
I must take a break here try understanding the human heart
or the circumstances of the wished for the repellent he was
a ship that had lost its gyro-compass when navigating
the sea of deceit this foolish dance of the human borboleta
When he first kissed her, his whole being was absorbed by
her like falling into a cave of endless pleasures and his anchor
got lost in the outer seas
Then  suddenly it was over like dream that ends at dawn, her
the door was locked there was someone else, rejected he pleaded,
had she relented it would never be the same the thread
of naiveties that bound him to her was broken  
you can't re-dream a dream.
So he took the dog with him and drove up north he had wanted
to see the autumn colours after week, they drove home
The dog loved the old routine when he had been depressed
The dog was sad, for him she was the morning mist that
Briefly, obscure the blue mountain range where the sun arises

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.

Bosporus


Bosporus 1956, the old tanker where I was a galley boy
had anchored waited for orders to proceed into the black sea.
A rowing boat came alongside they were selling fez
the latest fad among us ******.
They also sold sweet liqueurs which I drank, got drunk and sick
for the first time in my life; I was 15teen.
In the old days, you had to grow up fast and learn to howl with the dogs.
The winter weather was sunny I was awed by the Byzantine mystic
like a fairytale story. I bought the fez.
The last time I was in Istanbul -30 years later- on a ship where I was a cook.
my fall from officer grade had been painful and political.
in Istanbul going back to the ship I was followed by a back of dogs begging for food raided the galley
they knew I was a generous cook

Botany

Have you had a shower?
Yes dear, and changed my t. shirt too
you see, my dear, when I was in the amazon
collecting rare flowers, the local tribe called
me “the man who hates his face.”
Did you find a rare flower?
Yes, my lovely, I found you.
But the botanist whom I was carrying his luggage
refused to accept the human rarity
that is why your name is in posh books about
botany

Breadcrumbs

When we were children, we used to go to the park
that had a small like and feed the duck. A trivial pursuit
a the park was for the benefit of the people
and the local authorities paid for its upkeep.
This couldn't go on everything has to have a purpose,
so it was bought by a private firm fenced in and a gate
it cost to feed the ducks.
I should know writing poetry which is trivial and few
publishers take me on, then my risk of losing money.
As few poets make money and have few readers
yet poetry is the few places left where one can express
thoughts not accepted elsewhere.
Success is judged by “best seller books”, they might be crap
but reflects the time we live in.
As for the ducks, they have mostly flown away to find
a less obnoxious place to get their breadcrumbs.

Breakthrough

There have been between me and poetry a wall,
not a puny Israeli war that future Palestinians
will use as building material, I mean proper
Walls like the Chinese wall and now I’m nearing
a breakthrough.
Will a vista of beauty open up on the other side?
Of talking trees sweet-smelling flowers and
thorny bushes who ****** me sensually, apes
who I can converse with, or will a being tell me
what I have long suspected, you are not a poet
just a man who likes to write.
If I were a snake, I could leave myself behind
but it doesn't work that way, wherever I go,
what my mind see, can't be erased by a view
of a reborn person.

*******
I like ******* in my infancy I didn’t get
To cling them, the mother was ill and I was sent
To home run by the salvation army.
I stretched my tiny arms up to touch them
But they hastily withdrew.
In my young years, I suckled man abrest
Some of them liked it.
I was never a ***** man for me it was just
A damp hole to discharge my desire.
Big bums are nice too especially when on a bed.
Given a chance I can suckle wrinkled, low hanging
*******, even small ones. I no longer care
Brests are best, those without one are of little
Interest although they look good in a bikini.

Bremerhaven  

Bremerhaven, 1957 was a stunned town
Illegal bars and whorehouses for the many sailors
Who brought material to re- built the town
It was a summer and in bombed out neighbourhoods
There was accordion music
And patriotic songs from the war were sung
I was so young back then, and the ****** spoilt me rotten
So many ships coming in they were busy and
Then there was the American base to service, but even
Then, at my tender age, I could not stop thinking
How efficient the Germans were they had lost but were
Strangely happy re- building the lost years, the war
Had cleaned their souls.

Brexit me here

The more I read about Brexit in mainly
English papers I detect an unsavoury aspect
that is a sense of (perhaps) an unconscious
the feeling of superiority taking orders from
foreigners; the so-called free press has been
hammering away against EU rumours and
blatant lies, this because of the “Free Press.”
Is not free its leadership has an agenda
that is to destroy the benefit an EU membership
brings to Britain, and that is how 49% elected
to leave by readers who believe what they read
and vote contrary to what is best for them.
But not the perfidious Albion has a hidden
plan, they dream of a sovereign England
ruling the world. It is a futile dream and not based
on how the world is today.
England( I exclude Britain) is a small island in
the sea whatever greatness she achieved in
the past is welcome but ultimately forgotten.
The point is another nation could care less if
England is in our they don't write about it skip
the pages that have the name Brexit as an internal
affair that is a bagatelle in the world.

Brexit 2

They don't get it the politicians
why people voted to leave.
there is and rightly, so a deep
discontent among people, the see
their water, gas, train and bus prizes
privatised by pirates.
There is a revolt in the air, the Brits
are tired being led by the nose
by a capitalistic system that long ago
ceased to be a democratic, free vote is not
democracy and EU has nothing to offer
only more dictates.
The Brits know the future can be tough
(As tough as it is now,) but at least
It is their choice, and there be better
days to come when they throw the shackles
off, walk free towards a new down as equals.

Bridge to nowhere

I paddled down a narrow river
flanked by elm trees like paddling in a tunnel
A new road stopped the rivers flow
underground, the river streamed
Perhaps, if I carry my canoe to the other side
the river will continue as before
Not so.
By the side of the road sat two elderly men
“What are you doing here,” I asked?
“We wait for a bridge to be built, “they said
Answering in unison.
Have you waited long?
Yes, we have.
But what is the point with a bridge
If there is no river underneath?
The men smiled and said, “because we like
sitting under bridges.”

Broken Dreams


Tonight I´m happy and sorrowful
I refuse to cry over lost friends
I´m drunk as well.
It feels good to up the anchor of sobriety
let alcohol give wind to my sails.
A clipper buying tea in China
not useless plastic toys.
Sleek, the line and the women admired me.
Let the clipper sail.
I don´t care; I shall stay and make love to you.
I´m sorry I left my Liverpool girl
I went to Brazil to harvest coffee beans.
Guatemala, I got there by chance
a beach and moonlight.
I have not forgotten my promises
one day more, just one more day.
The clipper sailed to other shores
I never got to write
The poem of my life

Brooklyn

Salt beef with onion
sandwiches.
Goat cheese made
near the wailing wall
The waiter
is a scientist.

Intelligent eyes
behind thick-lensed glasses
do not dare to leave a tip.
The burden of my ancestors
weighed heavy on my mind.

The chicken soup was excellent
I shan´t return
Before
Palestine is a sovereign state

Tourist in Bruges
I was in Bruges, in Flanders, once
Saw beautiful old buildings where the patrician class
The merchants and charlatans lived
Where the poor lived in the past has been erased
The poor now live in high rise flats.
We rented a carriage with a bored horse that did its round
On streets too clean to be true; animals peed on canvas.
We walked around took the pictures as did others.
We had lunch at a café too expensive for its food, but the beer
Was good and that is worth remembering.

Brussel

I dream of a river clear
As a nun’s tears
In a landscape of flowers.
Bees, don´t sting
Nestles is banned.
Honeysuckles
Is a dulcet word.
I think of a woman
who came to my village?
Years ago.
Her smile lingers
Her laughter
Alentejo wine
Not the supermarket type
With plastic top
And fake labelling.
The river of love
Runs to Brussel.
This is odd, Brussel  
Is a rain heavy place
And little else.
Except
For wonderful chocolate
And tasty beer.

Bug

On my blue-lined writing pad, a tiny ****** walk
It appears hesitant and lost before crossing a line
Lost in the vast wilderness. of the unwritten.
I try to blow it off the paper, but somehow glues
Itself and will not budge.
I cannot touch it, tiny as it is I will surely squash it.
Nothing I can do for now leave it to its own device
Go and watch TV.
When returned the insect was gone, a sheet of paper
With nothing written is a lonely place, no story to tell
But leaving behind a nagging question, the beginning
Of depression and the sense of futility.

Bully beef

Twenty years after the war
I found in the attic of a small hotel
several cans of corned beef.
since the cans were dark green, I assumed
they had belonged to the German army
not that they were going to demand
the cans back I opened one the meat was
perfect and could be used in a stew.
No one wanted to a taste the meat I ended up
eating the corned beef over several weeks
until I got tired of the bully beef.
Today I bought a tin, it tasted good but had
less fat than I remembered.
I got an email, a friend of mine who also
liked corned beef had died, and it saddened
me much, I used to send him my books
he was working class but well-read and he
liked my books; mind he thought less of me
political stance.
Another friend has gone, not many left
of them now but
I will remember Alex Skillen, my only fan,
with fondness.

Burma and Rohingya

1948 thousands of Palestinians were thrown out of their
land suddenly by the new occupiers, was called Israel.
and thousands of them live in camps waiting to return
a dream they refuse to let go off.
Now, the Rohingya people have fled their country Burma,
they have nothing; they want to return to their land
but land mines and gunfire stops them, both instances
are and obscene abuse, a horrid behaviour by
one people to another, but there will be a reaction if you
push hard enough even the modest turn and
fight back, and you better understand this truth.