Alfred and the wilderness

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

The Genetic pool

I’m my father’s son, I carry his genes
He is a part of me that is inseparable
If I hate him, I dislike myself
These days, I’m older than my father
He is my son, and I love my son
Once I saw my father on the bus
He reached out to say hello
Misinformed, I ignored his gesture
Looked out of the bus window
I saw his tears
Wish the moment would return
It is my eternal shame
My father is my son, I think of him
Gently.

The last poem in my new collection

Swindlers
I had been scammed, a woman on Facebook
Asked me for friendship
Told me of a website that could help
Tried, a picture of a well-suited man looking suave
Asked me for 500 euros, before I asked
What he could do for me
Why should I give you 500 euros?
It is my charge to help you recoup your loss
What loss?
I just know, he said
Is it no longer possible to trust any firm operating
On the internet
This demand for money before proving anything
Hoping for the best is not a solution

Here is the war

The war has broken out, possibly caused
When the USA embassy was invaded 40 years ago  
The humiliation is a festering sore that cries for revenge
Every country will suffer in the shadow
There will be hunger
There will be deaths
Israel, in a suicidal mood, has been at the forefront of
This war that might destroy Israel as a nation
Who are those fanatical people who wish death upon
Millions for revenge
For the glory to reign over a destroyed world, that
is advantageous for ravens looking for diamonds
In the debris of a ruined culture

Reflection

It is autumnal, and the wind blows
Light from lampposts sways
The day smells of oncoming winter
Sadness and a longing for the past
It will always be like this
The hankering for years gone by
Like the wake from a ship
The birds in the sky will leave to
The curtain billows, ready to set sail
Across the seas, towards infinity
And beyond

Serenity

At the corner shop
They have sold out happiness
On sticks
They sell fresh bread
Also, plastic toys
The greengrocer next door
Sell carrots, cabbage, and leeks
But no heart-shaped tomatoes
Further down the road
A shop sells exotic cheeses
However, none of them sell Joy

The Cake Shop
There was a small cake shop near the bath-house
If I had money, I would go in there for a coffee and a cake
the girl behind the counter smiled; I fell under her spell
and my heart beating too fast made me dizzy
Her name was Berta, the loveliest thing on earth
I must invite her out for a walk in the park.
She closed her shop at five, borrowed my brother's tie, and used his aftershave. Alas, outside the shop stood
a man tall and handsome
I walked by and into a deep shadow.
When she came out, they kissed and walked hand in hand
down the road, she said something, and he laughed.
Devastated, I sank to the ground and bitterly cried
how stupid, the burning shame, I couldn't go into her shop again,  told him about me when she laughed
I found another place where an old lady of thirty served
I felt at ease with her; we laughed and often kissed
But life is not sweet chocolate, as I had to work with no education
I joined the merchant navy, a place for poor boys who didn't want to work in factories and left dreams behind. Or did I?