.          Self Sabotage


     I wrote a book which

     I'm editing by myself.


     **** the punctuation

    and spelling, I am not

    a schoolteacher, I had

  enough of their corporal

    punishment at school.


Do you know I’m dyslexsick.


  Are you going to publish

   it or not, I have titled it.


      “ Shelf Sabotage "

Because he was not a

Caucasian, the dentist

refused white composite.

Freddie settled for Mercury

Villainous Summit Lithuania

                      <>

    Zelensky took a bag to fit

                    NATO

     But Ben Wallace put in a

                 TOMATO

       Get lost you Jew ***

You should never have come

       Then, Joe Biden said -

       “ Here’s A POTATO “

A rainbow arcs, between

                           the blue sky and a green

                           Neretva, pencil minarets
                          
                         etch silhouettes, of Nimbus.

.           Ukraine $ucks


  A chosen one has come to

  lead Bandera’s ****’s who,

  Azov now, are circumcised,

that’s the end of the porky’s.


  Ben Wallace said Ukraine

is a parasite leech *******

everything from NATO we're

not amazon @ takeaway . org

=============  ==============
                           \

Kerch attack is a Crime-a new Mostar

but just as UNESCO bridged that gap,

Vladimir Putin will overcome NATO’s

intention to overwhelm Mother Russia.

.                Kerch Bridge


      It is a coat hanger on stilts,

     for Mother Russia’s mantle.


    Woe betide those who dare

     interfere with a matriarchy.


Her web thread’s been severed,

Black Widow is no longer asleep.

Villainous Summit Lithuania

                      <>

    Zelensky took a bag to fit

                    NATO

     But Ben Wallace put in a

                 TOMATO

       Get lost you Jew ***

You should never have come

      Then, Joe Biden said -

       “ Here’s A POTATO “

Autistic


  Evidence of my oblivion, not

recognising Eric Clapton, who

   was Freddie Mercury, could

you believe it, the world passed

me by, I never noticed, because

    fantasy dominated reality,

   magical thinking has been

         my only safe haven,

               romanticism,

                  nomadic

                   quixotic

                    poetic.

.    Because he was not a

   Caucasian, the dentist

declined white composite.

Freddy settled for Mercury

.  Fear of suicide, or,

     accidental death,

     is never given a

    moments thought.


    Yet, conventional

   dying preoccupies

    conscious minds

     before sleeping,


    which is, in effect,

     a metaphorical

  rehearsal, that only

  insomniacs,                                                                                       escape.

Bet you can’t write a poem

using a noun as a metaphor.


         Challenge


Okay, I will try to bunch

together a collection of

mass group gatherings.

How about a gang band,

or a troupe even a clump.

I could knot a nest gaggle

a crowd, huddle a bunch

or pack a party, I could, if

I wanted to, troupe a flock

or swarm bees or indeed

any agglomeration, truss

me, because an aggregate

of any conglomeration is a

metaphor for your request.


"The noun was CLUSTER"

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’'
­‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’'
‘’’’’’’’’’­’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’'

As a verb it can congregate

in a children's playing field.

Tops are red, like BERRIES.



Poem for Joe Bye Then USA.

General Cluster


Joe Bye Then, is going

to plough Josep Borrell's

pristine garden without

help from John Deere.

   Seedlings from the

    jungle are already

on the waves coming

to propagate this fertile

prosperous cohesive

    horticultural zone.

    Trees will sprout,

   foliated branches

   will shade sunlight

  impede growth dark

ages will return apes

  from Africa will inter

breed, eventually they

will ruin the purity of

  our unipolar estate.

.     Tabla du Diabla


Lucy Feu, Satan’s sister

was seen coming out of

the Limbo council office.


Rumour has it that they

filed a planning request

to extend Hell for an influx

from F.UK.US very soon.


St Peter, because he is

from St Petersburg has

had the monopoly on all

catering contracts, not

just in Heaven, but also

in Purgatory Limbo and

Hell. So, he offered this

most recent to a well known

events manager and cook.


Yevgeny Prigozhin has

accepted and presented

the menu only days ago.


Soup du Jour, which will

never change, is going to

be Chinese Hot and Sour.


The mains will be Chevre

Chaud or Roast Beef or

Hot Dogs served with a

Mustard de Coleman or

Tabasco on a boiled bed

of mashed potato with

red onion dill and pepper.


(Considering that F.UK.US,

are obsessed with Pomme

Frites/Chips/Freedom Fries,

Vladimir Putin intervened

and said they can go to Hell)


A selection of seasonal

charcoal grill vegetables.


Desert was very difficult,

a toss up between Plum

Pudding flamed or Creme

Brûlée torched, the latter

was selected after a vote.


Followed by Toasted Milk

Or Freshly Roasted Coffee.

N     A          T              O

No

       Army

                   Time

                                    Out


Afganistan Syria Iraq Libya

Yemen and children is all

you miserable cowards are

capable of, the defenceless

or weak, where’s the bluster

now, you spineless ****.

Vlad is Putin the boot in

your faces he’s broken

   all of your teeth, you

         are bleeding.

          F. UK. US.

           met their

            match
              
              but  
            
              do

               ?

Jack Dawe converted on
his death bed, hoping for
a last minute redemption,
by becoming a Buddhist.

Waking up next day, he
felt sun rays on his face,
right in the middle of a
freshly ploughed field.

It was old McDonald’s farm,
they used a French Fries-Box
for his hat, then they stuffed
an old suit, with coke straws.

Drills were straight as far
as his eyes would permit. At
the end, a tree, early Spring,
he could see crows. Nesting.

Weeks passed, the hatchlings
left their high perches, totally
ignoring him, it was then he
noticed, on his shoulder, a chip.

Palestinian
              Pogrom


Israel is inaudible

while Palestine is

confined to silence.


Echoes ricochet in

the walled garden

of apartheid settlers.


Boomerangs of the

blind, messaged in

hate, return to sender.

.          Feeling Plath


I woke up at a market place

bazaar in Kosovo wishing I

could do with my ears what

my eyes had learned when

sunlight discovered that one

brass rolling hanger had let

a drape curtain off its hook.

Nahel


Halt Arrêt Stop

Algerian ****,

Vive La France

shoot the ***.


Mais Camus

était ne la bas,

pied noir, pour

quoi dire ca ?




Ryan O'Leary

Irlande.

**** the French colonialists.

Nahel


  My number plate is French

  there's a Muslim in my rear

view mirror what do I do now?


"Indicate that you are stopping

then turn on your hazard lights

    and repeat the following"


   Je ne suis pas Français

    I'm Irish not British we

   never had any colonies.

.           Anomaly


   Don’t you find it odd

     that the WASP’S

  (Not Vespa Vulgaris)

    swarmed into Iraq

   on the pretext that

    they thought they

  had nuclear bombs.


    Yet, they KNOW

    Russia has them

   for sure, but being

    the usual school

  bully cowards, they

backed down when

they were confronted.


This has typically been

a British and American

modus operandi for as

long as we can recall.

But at last, Putin has

  put on his black belt

& told them get ******.

.                    Democracy


            if you are an illiterate

                a half wit or gay


              if you’re criminal

              female or a stray


              if you're Black or

           a Jew or don’t pray


          Once in four you can

               have your say


             Pens and paper

          supplied on the day


            Your vote means

            it’s just a display.

.                  Slava Russe



           Stefan Bandero, is Ukraines

             war hero though everyone

                knows he was *****.


         But the army of reds bashed

         in heir heads with a hammer

                and sickle and pike.


             Yet as history repeats,

           Azov ****’s drum beats

      but now they are led by a ****.


          Mother Russia we’re glad

        that you bore your son Vlad

because our world has not seen his like.

.                            Autism


             I want to give you a pause

           of my mind, the indecision bit

             that leaves a space vacant

               for confusion, that silent

             contemplation, as thought

               passes through process

            filters that have a different

                   diameter to yours.


           I want to give you a pause

           of my mind because often

          I’m overwhelmed and prone

          to despair at my inability to

           unlearn what nobody has

            taught me and therefore

              they are incapable of

               ever understanding.


          I want to give you a pause

           of my mind because the

          sprockets of my cognitive

          are not functioning in the

           same sequence as your

           chain which is why I try

            so often to freewheel,

        yet, you insist on pedalling.


        I want to give you a pause

        of my mind as I contradict

           Paul Cezane who said

       that there were no straight

       lines in nature but I’m both

      a lateral and vertical thinker.

   What about suspended spiders?


         I want to give you a pause

       of my mind and if you are so

   considerate not to park in areas

     allocated for the disabled then

         you have seen a sign and

      empathise with their affliction.

    So, now that you have read the

  poem here is the promised pause.

.                                    Fishte Oazis


          It is where the mammary mountains overlook

                 It is where nature is tickled to a smile

      It is where evergreen shadows tint a pea soup lake

           It is where dawn chorusses are orchestrated

           It is where Cuckoos listen to their own echoes

   t is where House Martins share flies with aquatarians

It is where Golden Orioles share trees with common birds

          It is where Geese and grazing Goats can greet

   It is where Tortoises listen to nocturnal Toad warnings.

It is where vegetarians are vindicated for not eating meat.

          It is where perfection is presented one a plate

          It is where generosity of spirit is not contrived

          It is where I, a wandering nomad felt at home.

|
         |
         |
/ \ / (|) \ / \ /

Now is not everywhere, one may

have to leave home to find it, even

then, it is elusive.

Now is a chameleon, an illusion, a

mirage, a disappearing silhouette

when clouds greet the sun.

Now is a magicians subterfuge

quickness of hand deceives the eye.

Now is as water in a glass very well

camouflaged evaporates in full view.

Now is a pendulum stopped and

wedged between never and when.

Now is inaudible inert invisible this is

why it is so difficult to find.

But those who do succeed have \/\/o/\/

because they are .cixelsyd

The Iterate Party


A petition of the indoctrinated

masses resulted in a majority

of their yesterdays electing to

become today, when another

poll requested a repetition for

tomorrow. The Iterate Party

won by a landslide, president

Deja Vu said he anticipated a

victory, he thanked each and

everyone for their procrastination.

Herbivore’s Wish

Imagine a world without

carnivores

Get rid of the mushrooms

last of the spores

it would be great, no cats

or dogs

plus most of the people

who use teeth like cogs.

Vegetarians, would live

in peace

Some are already living

in Greece.

Watch cows in peaceful

rumination

But the meat eaters realm

is just devastation.

They **** for pleasure and

enjoy the pain

They factory farm to reap

and gain.

But those who support it

are just as depraved

Because a sirloin steak

is not engraved

No death by date can

ever be seen

To a human what does

an animal mean.

So tell me then what is

strife

And how can you utter

the words Shelf Life.



Today's lunch

Aubergines Seitan courgettes
in Olive oil  garlic with Rice.

They bombed the road on the
bridge to Crimea
bombed the pipe full of
gas, not urea
They imposed sanctions
on Putin
Flour salt yeast and gluten
But this Dam blast is
America's Korea

.                Digestive System

                        <> <>


          Cathode eyes can’t blink.

          Their mesmerised minds

        mop up media manipulation.

      They absorb daily dulling diets,

     then mentally masticate opinion,

   before regurgitating them as facts.

Emojinous



      Echoes are, some people and sheep.


   Blah x 3 is not a mathematical equation,

    but more a verbal repetition, evoked by

    those for whom the poem is composed.


   Morse made Braille audible for the blind,

   hard of hearing and those with frostbite.


  Boomerangs are return to senders, which,

unimaginative's use for minimalistic responses.


If pigs could fly, surface to air missives could

be launched from any old elevated farmyard.


But, emojinous people couldn’t be bothered,

they’d rather respond with an icon, or even

logo motifs, but that only suggest points of

view so juvenile that their trains of thought

  have been shunted into a siding, where

  they hibernate with cohabiting sleepers.

.                   Tongue Tide


       They can, with their great

         engineering minds, dam

            rivers, silence babling

       brooks, muzzle often mute,

      muttering streams and gag

         the burbling waterfalls.


      They can channel canals,

    leach the lapping language

               from our  lakes,

       even bribe the rainbows.

But main street media can never

  redact susurrations of the sea.



For Julian Assange.

Demise.


  Soon the dollar will make

no sense, debt to America.

Stirling takes bank busting

      pecuniary pounding.

Rows and rows of Euro’s

under the Rouble far as the

Yuan-dering eye can see

in graveyards walled with


             B.R.I.C.S.



Poem For President Putin.
Victory to Russia.

.        Vociferate


  Say what you   ink

don’t blotch or smudge

or smear or blemish

after committing your

pen to paper, anger

  can’t be censored

      rage can't be

    tempered, pain

can’t be punctuated

      but scars are

       accusative

     because they

      never erase.

.        Borders Are Natural


Some rivers became so wide and

Deep, purposely I say, to prevent,


People and animals even foliage

From traversing the great divide.


Fish were employed to keep keen

Eyes on the banks at either side.


But migrating birds were forgotten

About in the apartheid master plan.


Swallows smuggled seedlings in

Their beaks, trees grew branches.


Organic arches began to form, then

Came the snakes and soon, ladders.


Borders are natural as hedge rows

On the edges the Lemmings Cliff.

.      Ireland  Untied
      

     Imagine if you will,
     the border used as
        a skipping rope
       not a tug of war.

    Children both sides
      could participate.

Someone from Donegal
holds one end, the other
person from Co. Down.

Now, all that needs to be
  resolved is which way
  it's going to be turned.

Forwards or backwards?

Provenance.
                              There is nothing more daunting than
                                    that first line of a book one is
                                         contemplating to write.
                             There are no lay-by margins, no marks
                               of delineation, no direction pointers,
                          no numerical reminders and no stop signs.
                             There are no en route filling stations
                              where one can pull over to replenish
                                the reservoir with fuel for thought.
                              There are no off-ramps, nothing but
                            straight monotonous repetitious vistas
                                  with a vanishing point mirage.
                             There are no Tachographs to break
                              the journey and give deluded eyes  
                                      ample time to rejuvenate.
                                     There are no signed posts
                                 no wayside images to entertain
                               or enlighten and no SOS cubicles.
                         There are no flashing lights of inspiration
                            and imagination is as intermittent as
                            windscreen wipers in undecided rain.
                            There are no detours one can take in
                             order to avoid the writers blockades
                        which occur unannounced and frequently.
                           There are no alternative routes or GPS
                         lady to rectify an incorrect decision one
                        might have made in the haze of brain fog.
                         There are no serendipitous or intuitive
                                encounters en passant and no
                                  prompt thesaurus lexicons.
                         There are no Peage girls to turn over
                       your next leaf so don't expect them to
                       raise the barrier that is holding you back.
                       There are no soft shoulders to rely on, no
                      roundabouts or rear view mirrors because
                   nobody's got your back, it's a solitary passage.
                     There are no cul-de-sacs but in the event
                      of finding yourself trapped and facing  
                      the wrong way, then read the next verse.              
                           There are no excuses for not having
                       made sufficient research before venturing
                       forth on a journey without a destination.

Stage 2 Brexit


   In an ideal world the

   landmass would be

   a borderless island

   where the language

   is Italian, Buddhism

    the religion, Greek

    vegetarian cuisine

    served by Spanish

   waiters. Julius Meinl

    Coffee from Austria,

artisanal French bread

  traditional Irish music,

  but NO British tourists.



This is Stage 2 Brexit.

Ride Of The Valkyries


Icarus Bakhmut flew too close

to the firing line thus descending

into a pyramid, of dying embers.


But Artyomovsk, The Phoenix,

arose triumphantly from the

smouldering rekindled ashes.


An ascent, from double bass to

a voluptuous crescendo, feasible

only by a finely tuned orchestra.

Pet Hate.


A carnivore canine may

defecate the street, yet I,

a herbivore human, can’t.


It is because our access

to sewers are sealed with

cast iron manhole covers.


This was my pet hate, the

reason I tied him to a gate

post and abandoned him.

Circumcision at a young age
causes the nose to get longer
according to Carlo Collodi
the author of Pinocchio and
this of course helps people lie.

Stray          


   I’m Neuter the dog that

    was free on the street.

    Now I'm tied to a rusty

  camper van in the shade.

    There’s a ***** in heat

  over the way, eyeing me,

no point, I’ve lost my *****.

Undulating

Waves are sea couriers
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  returning unsolicited
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  debris at high tide to
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  their dispatch depots.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Redacted


When one is afraid to

say what one thinks,

daydreaming has got

to be supervised lest

one slumbers and is

caught sleep talking.

It is almost a fait accompli

There’s not a lot more there to see

Kiev is defeated

Ukraine is deleted

And Zelensky is all set to flee.

Inkling


I loosened the lid and

   siphoned a fill from

   an injurious history


  Then I proceeded to

transfuse its contents

on a wilted parchment.


  Without a conscious

     thought, my pen

      drew a sword.

MSM


It is where one finds

processed views with

short shelf lives easily

digested preprepared

for the non discerning

palate, adult versions

of the middle graded.


It is only independent

producers provide an

alternative version of

organic content which

requires effort to find

and they who do look

are viewed sceptically.


Difference is difficult

same is common and

easier accessed thus

eliminating the need of

approval or explaining

the products sources,

it's Supermarket News.

Cordon

bleu & Yellow,

is the Chicken Kiev

national dish of Ukraine,

whereas, Beef Strong Enough

is what Mother Russia serves her battalions

and Napoleon said armies march on their stomachs.

Istanbul

G
On an overcrowded street
C
where bright and darkness never meet
D
where voices barter to be heard
EM
from faces hidden behind veil or beard

G
Aromas, perfumes, pungent smells
C
wafting forth from wishing wells
D
coffee, roosters, wake up the souls
EM
Bazaars of ochre in sun drenched bowls

G
Minarets with nibs of lead
C
scribe crescent moons on skies near red
D
Seraglio Point which marks the Horn
EM
where Marmara is Bosphorus born

G
The sky blue mosque mocks Mecca's name
C
but leaves no doubt to which bears fame
D
Constantinople or Istanbul
EM
no place, no name, can be so full

G
On one goes, by cheek  by jowl
C
eclipsed by fading light in cowl
D
No talk of morn, no night yet come
EM
no curfew called  nor quiet but hum

G
Of dreams Aladdin's, of wicks of lamps
C
of sesame, pariahs  tramps
D
Of sounds from far off citadels
EM
of glamour, clamour, peal knell-toll bells

G
No sleep, no sheep no counting herds
C
no mudlark talk no listening nerds
D
Romans Greeks have gone and come
EM
left names on stones Byzantium

G
Where west joins east nigh one the least
C
by bridge shake hands an eyeful feast
D
The spawn of dawn once far, now here
EM
a call to all, to kneel in prayer

repeat

G
Where west joins east nigh one the least
C
by bridge shake hands an eyeful feast
D
The spawn of dawn once far, now here
EM
a call to all, to kneel in prayer

.            Cook Coup


     Our expert chefs from

   kitchens of international

    interference prepare a

  dish which we serve with

      Uncle Ben’s Rice ®

                    \ /

           to plebiscites

          as democracy.