and yet why not
was a bar on ios
called why not..
there was also
the far out,
(i imagine they are
still there..)
the far out, was
a place where americans
met americans they had
met in amsterdamn ,
berlin or venice..
there were london gangsters
stranded and dangerous..
we plied our trade upon the steps
of the far out and bruce springsteen
played day in and day out as
the wind blew..
******* women cut hair in
the gentle surf and the young
frats had their pictures taken..
the scandanavians had the best
tans and most of the money..


we lived in a donkey hut in the hills
overlooking the harbour
where the sun set
amidst hustlers and go-go
dancers..
the ferries came and went..
one bus to the village and
another down to the beach-
down the road was the
my way..

in the village there was bar
after bar
a disco near a windmill
retsina and souvlaki
people packed into
squares
i wonder now what we
said..
now and again
someone who lived there..

and yet why not?!
cold is cold
hot is hot

but the bit betwixt!-
let us be not
indifferent..

time is tight
be bold
little flowers..

to this day i find
an honest word
as illusive as
time-absurd

i-ty..
more profound
i-ty
in a nice cup

of tea-
some searing
wee
from

the birds in the
trees..books
poetry
art?

music..
the sky
the clouds
the sea..

to this day i find
myself
wondering where
ive been
all these years

so, i pick up my
guitar
listen to the birds
in the trees
and say, oh yeah..

of the past an untold
wealth
more questions than
tears
lost to words
unanswered

but garnished with
notation
called memories-
echoes fair!
moon and sun!-
long is death
long time..

if you can find a purpose,
(either way!)
to see,
or to sea,
in this world,
indeed..the difference,
t´ween heaven
and hell-a letter-
Yours Sincerely,
a fortunate
porpoise..

i

the sky is an absurd
my soul a bird
the sun a third-

opus south!
twig in mouth-
moon out!

flap our wings!
from small things
across the seas

whispered and cry
onward!
from old

to old to
old
o small red

eye
fly
i..

ii

when the geese pass
over
touch our hearts
by their gentle cries-
some magical
genre

leave us
speechless..
our whispered exchanges
some days
later..

iii

did you hear the geese?
(if you please)
when it was?

i don´t know..
time has shadowed
to  n. to s..?

iv

the sky is absurd
reflecting us-
we are to live

on mars?
during covid
what isolation did-

how the birds laugh
if they knew
which they do..

the tyranny of a blank
domino
3mm of head
an egg in vinegar
closing down time..

when confronted by a mirror
i recall that greek feller
what was his monica..?
but dont under estimate
the reflection-o-
there is past and there
is future and of course this
******-up-monster
present,oh, but even more
frightening-
there is zero..

i

i have forgot lily,
her eyes flashed
ravens alight
capture a vision..
in her wakening,
where i hid our
grass last night..
***** *** ****
beauty of
the first light
love thirsts
see her pale
pale skin
her black eye
dawn
the milkman
a sparrow
a horn..
dew..

ii

where o could it be?
wreck the place
mother-f..
she sleeps..
i watch her
her timeless beauty

iii

she is-
little sparrow
brave warrior
first kiss-
snoring, so i go
looksy..!

iv

how to begin
i am not comfortable
with such emotion
amazing how quickly
one goes from
rational human to mad thing
i think i bet she got
it..
this is how it goes..
over the years
hiding holes like love have grown
begin with the walls
o bring them down somewhere obvious
i will return
and she will be burning what pain-
down the couch
or new place
a reconstruction of
the night before
science
or blind anger
which spirals
purple faced
into hopeless tears
and wander
down the bar...

v

no quarter
said the warrior
a pint of lager
i love her

though it is
war
long periods
of boring

by mad action
dividing fractions
well,that was years
before..

how time goes
sweet armistice
(the left is
not what it was..)

but i am
happier
(could nt get no
******* sadder..)

on the positive
i turned out
to be a wizard
sometimes..

it is a case
of where to look
magic could be youtube
or books

writing and
colours
and a little
pointy hat

rats
lol
alakazam!
secret words..

vi

meanwhile
lily awakens-
the kraken
rises

from icy depth
smokes the last
of the grass and
she is herself

she is bit
paint a bit
red bit
red white black

yellow
in a mondrian
o
back to bed

soul mining
cohen
red wine
cosy..

vii

home comes thee
wizard..!?
of dark aspect
respect needed

happy but...
first a further
search
searcher!

secret powers
are on
pagan
hand

the body has
a memory
(he can not bear
the cooker

it is white
and sinister)
to gather the lost
we must dream

lily sings-
what you doing
my man,
looking for something..

(like a dream
a poem within
a poem)
when my heart

is full of love
all for you
my merlin
right here

now o!
a cry yonder
i found a bit of red-leb
from years before

the morning
a dove in flight
our pantheistic
pair

in arm and arm
fair in fair
what you been doing
painting..