the tattoos they got
in love and in anger
have turned to cartoons
not warnings of danger

Pete Townsend was singing
about my generation
who are now on Zimmer frames
and hormone replacement

the kids were alright
in the cafés downtown
where the little blue pills
went around and around

now mellowed stagnated
judgemental outdated
by the new youth culture
that’s moving and shaking

jumping on bandwagons
and acting like tarts
they’re all ******* green
with no purple hearts

but the culture it ended
the scooters all scrapped
and none of them realised
that The Who they just rocked

Coconut, coconut, coconut,
Crack!
Stained white on the inside,
Brown on the out.

Hit it on its head,
Slash it apart.
Nourish it with spices,
Of a Southern past.

Fuzzy to touch,
Lined in coir.
The remaining path
In defining who we are.

Droplets of the Ganges,
Drowned in the Thames.
A conflicted soul,
In search of a cleanse.

Coconut, coconut, coconut,
Crack!
That one's spoiled!
So send him back.

Brother Iran
by Michael R. Burch

Brother Iran, I feel your pain.
I feel it as when the Turk fled Spain.
As the Jew fled, too, that constricting span,
I feel your pain, Brother Iran.

Brother Iran, I know you are noble!
I too fear Hiroshima and Chernobyl.
But though my heart shudders, I have a plan,
and I know you are noble, Brother Iran.

Brother Iran, I salute your Poets!
your Mathematicians!, all your great Wits!
O, come join the earth’s great Caravan.
We’ll include your Poets, Brother Iran.

Brother Iran, I love your Verse!
Come take my hand now, let’s rehearse
the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.
For I love your Verse, Brother Iran.

Bother Iran, civilization’s Flower!
How high flew your towers in man’s early hours!
Let us build them yet higher, for that’s my plan,
civilization’s first flower, Brother Iran.

Published by MahMag (translated into Farsi by Mahnaz Badihian), Other Voices International, Thanal Online (India), Deviant Art, Portal Vapasin (Farsi). Keywords/Tags: Iran, Iranian, Farsi, Persia, Persian, brotherhood, culture, civilization, poetry, literature, poets, mathematicians, philosophers

God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we would have ***** other
than our sister or brother
eager to reach the shooting range we slammed the shuttle door
on our captain’s silver crown
in a sea spilling from His ichor
sack punctured by our hubris we drown-
memes and cat videos worth dying for

We set fire to the shuttle
gasp as our air begins to leave
Amazon(s) choose to scuttle
trees land and humans need to breathe
a musk most putrid rises as we cannibalize our space ex
who’s so far gone as to not come back
her zombie bridezilla tirade wrecks  
our plan it removes futures from the trajectory track

God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we reduced our target to soot
we revelled in our high score
not feeling the pain in our shot foot
and the cats still in secret revery dance their funny jig
sardonic wit stuffed still in every blank screen -small or large-
on the skeleton of our ghastly ghost space rig
reduced to rubble by a friendly depth charge.

God gave us the stars to shoot for
it was we who chose to use a gun
we chose to ram through the door
not checking if it was open
God gave us the stars to shoot for
leaving the details for us to decide
rockets to be built to make war or explore
as shuttlecraft for a human slingshot ride
an arching advance into the beauties of
our Creator made for us to enjoy in love
~
NM
08/25/19

Autumn Lady
Reanna with autumn hair and summer eyes.
Lady from afar here in England.
With such charisma, capturing her image in a blink of your eye.
Imagine that there was only ever one sunrise; that is Reanna's beauty.
As memorable as a waterfall, free and never still.
In movement.
Never a prisoner of anyone.
Always laughing and smiling, never sad or in tears.
Her laughter is infectious.
Reanna will make you laugh, banishing your sadness.
With Albanian and Greek culture and relatives, Reanna is very unique.
In her mind's eye Reanna dreams of rugged beautiful landscapes and flies over them like a lark.
Swerving and swooping with total movement.
Imagine Reanna dancing, in tune with the music.
That's Reanna.
Alive with movement.
Her personality is as colourful as the cakes she makes.
Happy, confident, smiling, funny, sweet, cultured, intelligent.
Reanna.
Greek autumn lady!!!

From the moment I was born and society taught me how to live.
Expectation was given it's priority and there my energies I did give.

Through culture and my peers I was taught all right from wrong.
And without question or any form of doubt I went right along.

I learnt what I was meant to as society did dictate for me to do.
Becoming fluent and accepted because I shared their social view.

I managed all the toil and trials that was expected of my role.
I gave my every effort to what society said was my goal.

For sure I was born lucky and graced by dint of birth.
Secure, safe and protected from the terrors of this Earth.

I even watched the news each night to have a worldly view.
Despite all I saw, on the morrow, I did as I had been taught to do.

So far from my daily life and not part of my despair.
I got about my life's business and continued on without a care.

I don't know what caused a change, in how I view what life brings.
It seems that luck and randomness determine all varied things.

Through all of this I have come to doubt the culture of my youth.
I see the lives of the majority and doubt my world's so called truth.

I now see the selfish shape of the life that we are taught.
Where looking out for number one is the underlying thought.

My society favours wealth and it has an ingrained need.
To close it's eyes to despair in any form and to service only greed.

My eyes only ever were opened in a very temporary blink.
I feel the guilt and know the shame of how I was shaped to think.

Now without that social purpose that anchored my very sanity.
I feel despair at a world eyes closed, to the value of true humanity.