Nagasaki

There are nights when things become clear 
when the Pacific Ocean lived up to its name 
I sat on deck, listened to the heartbeat of
the vessel, which ticked faster when an engineer 
opened a door and came out on the deck
Laughter in the mess hall, no, I was not at ease
in their company, too old at sixty
I have tried the swagger, the misogyny, where 
Women were either ****** or mothers
The ship was bound for Nagasaki, and I had
been here before when looking for a graveyard 
where Portuguese sailors had died when
Japan was an unknown land
When walking down the gangway,  didn't 
to say goodbye, it was dinner time anyway
before flying back to Europe

The mule in  Gaza

Slowly, on delicate legs, the last mule
in Gaza, pulling a cart carrying old 
mattresses, broken chairs, and small
shrouds of children to a resting place
Pulling a kart is as easy as there is no 
elevations in Gaza, nor is there 
a succulent green field where to feed
Who feeds the mule? It can't live on 
spent shells alone, who gives it water
to drink, can it be Hamas, who see in
the mule: the long dream of freedom
We all have dreams, the mule's easy
a green field of luscious green grass.

The First Paradise

We humans are related to the dolphins 
not so smooth, that's why we stayed  near
sea was shallow
Fruit trees grew near the shoreline and 
often apples fell into the sea, which was
as a blessing, and we walked ashore
On dry land, we become aware of our nakedness
and hastily covered our bodies in palm leaves
Flirting and lifting palm leaves became a sport 
disapproved of by the adults
In the apple trees lived snakes; if a woman was
bitten, she convulsed, and if not given 
satisfaction becomes what we know as Karen 
When children asked where we came from
adults told us we came from Mars
Now, scientists tell us they have found dry
river beds on Mars. I say no more

The Valley of the Forbidden

Sat under an oak in the valley of the naked woman
admiring her rounded *******, a malevolent oak
took offence, not that I minded, after all, it had been
at the same spot for a hundred years, long before the valley had a name.
Suddenly, the tree slapped me
a leathery branch
Oh, pain makes me strong
I forgave the oak and
thought of the pope who, every Thursday evening 
flagellated himself, in remembrance
of the day
When he was training for the priesthood, he nearly lost 
His manhood to the cleaning lady
The Valley of the Naked Woman has a hidden fountain
is guarded by thorny thistles and impotent apple trees 
Those who have drunk her loveliness will never be
sane again, loll in the sunlight of lost ambition
The wicked eye of the oak kept glaring when I hugged 
An olive tree, the oak knew I was a lover of the ethical.

Angry Conifers

Trees in the avenue
have a weird sense
of humor
Long roots cracking up
finely laid cobble stone
pavement
Slightly bent easterly
give pain in the lower
trunk
The younger trees
bleat about older trees
taking space
Older trees show
distain of needy trees
no dignity
Trees are silent
lack imparting skills
shake leaves

Black Chador

The women of Alexandria wear a chador that
mercifully hides her bony body, she could have
fitted a Dior dress snugly, but she doesn't
know this, she has walked ten miles to buy
bread for her children
She has been to the fruit market too, where
where rib-cage mules with sores stoically wait
A rich, elderly English woman tells the mule
As the owner of it, she has never felt the pang of hunger
Nevertheless, she puts bandages on a mule's
open sores
The woman in the black chador is oblivious of this
Empathy for suffering animals is
a concern of
the wealthy, those who have time to care

Walking to Rome

On my way to Rome, I walked with a group
of Jews who had left Israel because it had
become a racist state
The Jews were a group of young men and
women on their way to Rome to seek an 
audience with the Papa to ask him to take
a stance against the **** of brutality 
against the Palestinians
Their goal was the creation of a Palestine
They, as Jews, could be a part of a new future
I listened to their ideology, and they were 
Young enough believed in the shared dream
I knew that, should they see the P, he would
be nice to them and speak in a measured 
voice, because the Papacy was a political 
too, and nothing must upset the balance 
I don't know if they got an audience with the pope
But I learned something vital, I had tended 
to speak about the Jews in a negative form
and didn't see the difference between Zionism and Jews
As for me, I met a wonderful woman at Travessa
de Santa Maria and had a splendid time