The big turtle of Galapagos.

Turtles, in general, are not good at communicating with anyone, at least those odd figures who talk a lot and sometimes sing
The big turtle of the Galapagos does remember when a big storm had blown over the world and many ships had run ashore on the island
She had been ashore laying egg in a hollow and when she emerged, her way to the ocean was blocked by broken ships, big chests sailors used to carry around since they had no shells He appeared in front of her, a man in linen trousers said he would help her and began clearing the beach, talking at the same time as humans tend to do
His name was Carlos Hamsun
and he wore linen trousers and a matching shirt, since he was alone and had no servant, his trouser were rather *****
Nothing much happens in a turtle's life, but when something happens, it remembers like having  
a picture taken, a photo that never fades
Since she had spent years when not laying eggs, there was not much to tell, that is why she remembered
Carlos Hamsun, humans have bad memories and need individual names
especially now with so many tourists hogging the beach, making it difficult to find a suitable hollow to lay eggs.
Not that she lays eggs anymore, but she likes to go ashore dig a hole and rest a bit, which is not easy now that
a ****** zoologist has made her famous

The daylight ghosts

I took the bus to the village
it didn’t stop there anymore, and no buses were going
that way.
The only road to my house was a track
For tractors and mules.
In my absence, wartime was hard
I met a man who
if I paid to drive to the village for a few Euros.
My old dog sat outside, and I took her some
moments before it recognized me
glad to see me.
The door was open.
I walked into the kitchen.
A man came out of the living room
He was surprised to see me.
He had moved in since the house was empty
The owner had disappeared.
The dog lives in the shed, he said. Not anymore
I said. I have nowhere to go, the man lamented
In that case, you can stay for a few days.
I took the dog for a walk in the woods
On the other side of the tracks, she liked that,
It disappeared, and I couldn’t find my way
back to the house, and the village had gone.
A person with a golf club in his hand told me
The tiny village had been razed years ago.
I had no business being here as it was the future.
And there was no way back to the old days
I had nothing to do here, and I walked towards the horizon.

A village in the sun

There is a small village with a few streets that have no name and houses have no number twelve I bought a small home that had stood empty for years when not used as a stable for the unique Algarvian white long-eared donkey
Retired workers in the village up the road where the shop was located next door to a café where they sat enjoying their beer fixed my house and soon I with my dogs everyone in the Algarve has a dog and I could spend my time writing poetry or walking in the wood
This Idyll was too perfect to last, one day a group of English tourists came to my village, and I, the only one who spoke English sealed the village's fate by telling them what a wonderful this place was and that there were several empty houses for sale the homes were snapped up and before you could say, Adam, the village became English
Cans of beer in the ditches, late-night parties ******* dressed women craving *** and sun the idyll was over it was time to leave my refuge from a noisy place filled with people who said how much they loved Portugal

My English Brother and the Rich
I find it impossible to be envious of the wealthy, buying superyachts one bigger than the other, when they get seasick at the thought of sailing out to sea
Marrying a ***** blond with ******* often taller than themselves, or buying a newspaper and dictating their political views that frequently consist of sour grapes  
Some very rich people indulge in ****** fantasies of the sort a 16 old might have and visit an island 200 times to satisfy their depravity and live in fear of being exposed
I know of a mega wealthy man, whose dream is to be the first human on the planet Mars to colonize the place in case our earth burns Is he going to take his 14 children along?
My father, although working class, was not unlike these people there was always one more woman to sleep with and I now learn he spent the war years in UK fathering a child
I hope it was a boy, my own brother died young, mind my English brother must be 80 by now, in a terraced home freezing, since the pensioners lost the winter benefit

Faulty memory

In the night, the brain had been busy changing my mind.
I have heard many stories in my lifetime, but they are
not forgotten
in my sleep, the story continues and gets a different ending, Sometimes, when remembering my childhood, I tell a story of something that happened to me, only to realize later that I cannot pinpoint the moment and where it happened. When I try to spin the memory, there is no before or after. The conclusion is that I’m telling of a memory that belongs to someone else; a story of a small boy, discovering the wonder of the day.

This and that and the Guardian

I read on -x and -----I read on Facebook of people writing stating their opinions about his and that no come thinks we are at the brink of war because
of wrongly accepted hinder a monologue
That can bring an understanding of opponents' dream of peace, they are ready to go to nuclear war to preserve because they know whatever comes next is the oblivion of the human race
A leading newspaper knows if the man who writes an ad kisses the woman who is a consultant are kissing or not, and we know those people have not noticed their world is lost
It is not about office furniture or about food cooked by overpromoted cooks who tell us what we should eat and admire them at the same time for the simple art of boiling potatoes is made is art
We have lost the reality that it is not about grades but a ticket to connections by who gets in to are made in the fairy land

The shipping accident

It was late evening when the captain of a Russian owner cargo came down from the bridge where he and the first mate had mapped the route from Humberside to Amsterdam. North Sea is always a busy seaway
In his cabin, lit a cigarette, sat down and opened his personal computer to send an email to his wife; he had a two-month vacation coming soon and said he missed her and loved her, if she came to Amsterdam, they could travel to Swiss
Then, an almighty shudder, he was thrown off his chair, hastily got up, ran up to the bridge, to his horror, his vessel had collided with an American reg tank ship; both ships were on fire, but since it was a calm night, the crew survived.
Back ashore, he gave his version of the accident to the relevant authority, as he left the building, he was arrested for manslaughter by the police; he knew the Russians were hated in England except for the wealthy types

The unreasonable hatred goes back to the time of the Tzar when the Bolsheviks killed the Tzar clan his wife had been one of the Queen Victoria’s relatives; the old queen had relatives in most of European royal households.
Politics entered the fray; the captain of the Russian ship was thrown into jail to await a trial that was not properly investigated since the US ship had carried jet fuel for an American base in a mediterranean country
There was a rumor of sabotage since NATO provoked war in Ukraine, the notorious newspaper, the Guardian, which is known for its anti-Russian stance, didn’t hesitate to accuse Putin for bringing the war to British shores

Painting of Oblivion

The canvas is uniformly white.  
As a screen depicts nothingness
And there is immobility.
A red dot appears
When a mass of void moves
Into life in the form of a life
A beast or a man?
The mystery is no one knows.
Why this randomness occurs

The scent of the sonnet

I was watching a TV program about Hercules Poirot
the heroine in
the plot had no **** and wore an evening dress with aplomb….
Clearly, she had not sat on a carpet
in the forest of spring, where the animal of love roams it is
green as spring grass has a pink underbelly that looks like a purring
cat or a puppy that softly barks. It droplets of scents
that makes lovers enamored for a day or s
there is always a tomorrow of regrets for some.

If the woman with small **** happens to sit on a carpet in
the glade she will fall in love and pad her bra
and that is so why should she not enhance her lack of this
bagatelle when there are tringles of love in the air
and if this does not help, there is always divorce
a more lonely man is satisfied with a triangle

The forgotten
We forgot to buy a loaf today, but there is an apple **** in the fridge for breakfast tomorrow   we will feast on cake and think of the daft woman in France, whose name I have forgotten
Putin was offered a 30-day break from warring, and he gracefully thanked Trump for his interest and accepted the offer, but first, the underlying cause had to be negotiated
Trump was flattered; he didn’t get the whole loaf but had to accept a lemon cake, Putin and Lavrov are both masters in chess, and the West, who do not understand what Russia has said
No NATO in Ukraine quarantine Russia has had enough from the West’s false promises, that’s, but Zelensky, the fraud has to go, a new election held and a spring will arrive in Ukraine

A Lizard Sonnet

If you travel to escape the small lizard on your back
You will eventually be outside your parents’ house
Only they have long since go
Someone else lives there; perhaps a child sleeps in your bed
Dreaming your dreams
You walk down a street where you used to play
But no one knows, and the sense of loss overwhelms you
Swallow hard not to cry because your memory is untrue.
You left to get a small-minded town, poverty, and screams
In the night, but it was worth going back to remember what
An awful place you left.
I have a small lizard in the kitchen; I have tried
To **** it because it is grey and without redeeming colors that
Could make it into a pet, but it is too quick and hides in corners
I can't reach so it can live for now.

Refugees
I know of a forest where all trees are equally tall
and the distance between them is strangely wide
is so they can get the same amount of sun and
rain will fall evenly on plants and mossy ground.
Trees grow fast here  next year, harvested
and a new sling planted.
For the birds, rabbits, and foxes that had made
a home at what can be called a new estate will
have to move or find shelter in the old forest
that is full of thorny bushes in deep shadows and
and ****** boars that never had a bath unless
caught out in the rain
Nests will be too near others, and there will be squabbling
rabbits and foxes have to make new burrows
and they will be snubbed by the old dwellers who
will call them lazy or, even worse, the new rich should
They have shiny fur or colorful feathers and will
not be sent a Christmas card that year.

Syria’s new rulers
I’m going out to buy two onions, flowers for my wife, and a box of red wine for no one in particular; since I’m the only one in the house who drinks wine, I guess I have to drink it myself
The checkout woman looked like Assad’s wife
Which made me think of the thousands of prisoners in his dungeon; they have disappeared. There could not have been so many; after all, perhaps it was a hall lined with mirrors.
The Alawites, Druids, and Christians, not that are murdered by the thousands, many hides in the Russian base, not the newspapers say anything about, now that Brussel has blessed them

Strewn thoughts

Seven days of cloud bursts
Untold, loveless days
Only April showers are romantic
If not falling from a brow
Behind a white cloud, a sunny day
Spilt diesel on wet asphalt
Does not a rainbow make

After Rain
The audacious sun finally showed up, and green was
the winter landscape, I also saw the sun set just behind
the carob tree, where the almond tree first blossom,
asleep under a carpet of wildflowers and snoozed till dawn.
Over the easterly range, which is the first defense against
Spanish Marauders and the rain on its plane, the clouds
were dark blue, perhaps, more rain tomorrow?
In fading light, a musical note danced down the phone line,
the first spring flirt. And should it rain tomorrow, I will
not be downhearted, this day will keep me warm for weeks.

The politics of reality

A leading Norwegian newspaper takes the view that it is the Alawites and the Christians who are the problem in Syria, which is blatantly untrue. The Brussels Mafia have decided that the former henchman is the right person, which suits Israel too for the time being
What is disturbing is that Europe’s leaders do not understand that globalism is over and that we will see new security zones that will leave Europe a quaint place for Russian or Chinese tourists. For a small country like Norway, the new system is a bonus as it no longer has to rely on the continent

The Mistake

He had been invited for dinner in Peking by a group of business leaders who had invested much money for his venture and success, but they thought his fee was too much. I wanted to discuss the matter
He took the plane to Pekin; when he landed, it was mid-morning, but there was no one to greet him, which annoyed him
He called his secretary, who apologized that there had been a mistake. What she had meant was a Peking. The Peking Duck Cafe in Oslo
He didn’t like to meet those stuffy wealthy people with their stilted language, instead, he bought a Chinese electric car business that gave him pleasure
Those idiotic Europeans who bought a car that was made in China had intended to sack his secretary, but pleased with his business acumen, he asked her if she was a good mother material.

The Mistake

He had been invited for dinner in Peking by a group of business leaders who had invested much money for his venture and success they thought
his fee was too much. I wanted to discuss the matter
He took the plane to Peking
when he landed, it was mid-morning, but there was no one to greet him, which annoyed him
He called his secretary, who apologized that there had been a mistake. What she had meant was a Peking
The Peking Duck in Oslo
He didn’t like to meet those stuffy wealthy people
with their stilted language, instead, he bought a
China’s electric car business gave him pleasure. those idiotic Europeans who bought buying a car
that was made in China
He had intended to sack his secretary, but
pleased with his business acumen, he asked her if she was of a good mother material.

Trees, cars and Elon Musk

The branches of trees on the avenue
Was stretching upward this morning
To be a decorative tree is not easy
Standing still looking leafy
Once they had been mere sampling
In a forest of other trees, feeling safe
Protected by tree too old or crocked
Stand under a tree and hear a murmur
They agree electric cars has no fumes
But older cars are better lookers
My car swell with pride she 28 to day
A self-driving AI long before Elon Musk
Said he had invented a driver-less car

A moment poem

A storm blew in the night
Morning light calmed the monster
The sea in the bay ripples
As often before rain goes to Spain
The water is silvery near the shore
It is Saturday, the town awakes

It was, perhaps it still is, popular to take aerial pictures

of farms, frame them, visit the relevant farms and try

to sell them. I had a suitcase full and walked from farm

to the farm I didn’t sell many and was tired when I came to

a small farm, so minor that it was not in my portfolio.

I was thirsty it was July but, I wore a suit with tie to look

businesslike. Knocked on the door it was opened by

a woman who looked affable – this was long ago these

days no one opens doors to strangers- I asked for some

water and she led me to a well lowered a bucket and up

came a pail full of the coolest nectar. We spoke, a widow

a tractor accident had killed him, and she was childless.

I felt a strong ****** pull towards her and could read in her

eyes she felt the same also, but I was too timid to act on it.

I thanked her warmly and left. Years later I read about her

had been married five times and poisoned all her husbands’.

First light of dawn
Uphill, he walked still dark, he had
to be at the farm at five milking times.
The westerly wind makes the climb hard
the cattle will be mooing in their pens
the boss is grumpy, he is hungry but
has no time to eat
milking eight cows by hand is no joke.
End of the last hill he saw the farm's
the farm, there is light in the kitchen,
Emma, my dog, barks and stops when
she hears his steps, the morning light he
stop and catch his breath, they are not
I am going to think that he was hasting
  a quick mug of coffee
a slice of ham, just like any other day
they will wonder, the maids whisper
but do not ask where
and with whom he spent the night.

Racial tension and Floyed
A picture of a committee in defense of human right a picture where serious white man and a woman in a business suit and to black persons This was serious business no one smile except the two black persons that spoiled the gravity of the solemn undertaking
Most black people I have met were like me from a working stiff background I was employed on ships they were mostly onloading cargo from the said, ships, they appeared more open, talkative then us Scandinavians, we don’t say much unless we are drunk in a bar
there was an unspoken racial barrier that made a man whose lowly job was to oil the engine feel racially superior; this was daft as the oiler had more in common with black people than he realized as we both suffered from segregation by those who wore suits working in an office
In America, with her many racial problems, we tended to side with the oppressed black people we had not noticed politics had entered into the fray; let to a man called Floyed, was killed by a cop who had trained for riot control in Israel Floyd, an addict, was not a person to look up to

In the defense of what!

There is a foster child called Nato his is big and strong fed burgers all his life, his father has had enough tells him there is no pocket money at all He has to go to his family in Europe ask them to support him, but they will not because they sold the family silver long ago, Nato sinks into despair and disappear  from public life, except for a bar called EU’s run by a Portuguese bloke and his gal from Germany and according to rumors have an hot affair, but they do well with hangers on like the Norwegian who openly cried when he lost a place among those who thinks they are relevant

Jordholmen’s public bath
Back in the days of yore, few people had a shower unit they might have had bathtub that was used once a week when the whole family bathed and the loser was the dad usually with daughters by then the water in the tank was tepid
I friend of mine told of a public bathhouse, near the docks, where one could have shower in cubicle, get a towel and a bar of soap
We ran never walked back then to the bath house called Jordholmen, I didn’t have money for cuibcle, but the lady said I could share a shower with my friend, but she only gave us on towel and one bar of soap; well as a capitalist his used the towel first, but that is nothing new
I came quite attached to this bath house, it was  a great change to have wash in a bucket of warm water in the living room by the fire, or in the kitchen in the days of May; we have lost hot water in our house in Cascais, my wife despairs for me it is like the old days warming water cleaning bits and pieces in front of the fire

Jordholmen’s public bath
Back in the days of yore, few people had a shower unit they might have had bathtub that was used once a week when the whole family bathed and the loser was the dad usually with daughters by then the water in the tank was tepid
I friend of mine told of a public bathhouse, near the docks, where one could have shower in cubicle, get a towel and a bar of soap
We ran, never walked back then to the bath house called Jordholmen, I didn’t have money for cubicle, but the lady said I could share a shower with my friend, but she only gave us on towel and one bar of soap; well as a capitalist his used the towel first, but that is nothing new
I came quite attached to this bath house, it was  a great change to have wash in a bucket of warm water in the living room by the fire, or in the kitchen in the days of May; we have lost hot water in our house in Cascais, my wife despairs for me it is like the old days warming water cleaning bits and pieces in front of the fire

A Day of Reckoning


Forenoon, it had been raining during the night
the wizened winter landscape was now green
and amongst olive trees long-legged sheep grazed;
their pastor and, on occasions, executioner, sat on
a boulder casting dreams into the future; man and
beast, rustic peace, pity I hadn’t a camera.

On my way to the village to buy the papers, a sheep
had been run over by a truck, with its stomach burst
open and its content glinting in the sun, it was still
alive. Ah, you dumb animal abandoned by everyone  
it looked at me without any hope of deliverance,
so I reversed my car and ran over its head.

As the skull was crushed its eyes popped out, landed
at the middle of the road that now had eyes to see
with, the shock of this made it shudder a long rent in
the asphalt ***** black tears trickled. Quickly 
I threw the eyes into the thicket which was instantly
transformed into a field of tinkling bluebells.

From nowhere a road gang of small, denim-clad men  
with big hats appeared, they were badly paid and lived
on road kills. Expertly strewing soft sand on blood, filled
cracks with healing asphalt, and off they drove with
their dinner. Empty road it had no knowledge of what
had just occurred, it was up to me to remember.

A day spring day 1952

It was a day in April, the boy sat by the milk ramp waited for the man, who drove from farm-to-farm, collecting milk for the Dairy in local town There was only one type of milk he knew of it was full fat and tasted smooth and creamy He, became aware of how beautiful the landscape like seeing the nature for the first time and as it tuned out it was also for the last time, his mother was back from the sanatorium He had to go to her, he got a job delivering gods on his bike and never returned to the farm, but the beauty of that day has stayed with as a time of glory when the world was unspoiled

A dreamy poem
Last night and half asleep I wrote a poem
About love not expressed but understood
A sad story of two unhappy people
Both unhappily married to someone else
I spoke the poem into the night
It sounded emotional and I cried a little
In the morning, the night poem was forgotten
I was too lazy to try to recreate its mood

Morning poem

This morning, sky and sea had the color shiny grey and I could see forever and saw a man and his son on the deck of a big ship, eating prunes because it was good for digesting heavy food. In my childhood prunes a rare fruit was served at Christmas for the same reason, but only in America could one get hamburgers, as told by seafarers who had seen the bright lights at a place called Broadway.                            
The sky shifted color to everyday grey, it began raining and the morning show was over

A spring poem
I try to write a poem since it is the first of Mars
The spring sun was looking huge, but not for long
A black cloud bigger than the sun muscled in
Stop! You are trying to write a poem, not tell us
About the weather, but since you are at it
did the cloud shed cold rain
I can’t say, I was indoors in my bedroom looking out
a poet never arises before noon

The joke is on me
When I read that Starmer, when visiting Trump, had with him an invitation from the king of England, offering Trump dinner
I thought it was a joke, but it was true. Trump was flattered and accepted the invitation
Of course, he is an egomaniac who thinks he is a royal American king, and why not!
The difference between the two kings is that Trump has power and the English king is reduced to a face on loose pocket change
Is President Trump a good ruler? Well, he is autocratic and gets things done, not always with aplomb, but no one is perfect
In a world of liberal democracy, we end up with
EU is a talking shop trying to force nations to see
The Brussels way and to think they are called democrats, when its leadership is making life difficult for dissenters like Victor Orban, a sane man among sycophants.
The leaders of any country are to look after their inhabitants’ well-being. If not, then new leaders   must be elected, but in our democracy, we see little movement at the top because their idea of democracy is to elect themselves, not much is done for the people
China and Russia have autocratic rulers with a high living standard, but one is not allowed to swear in church, and that is accepted by most people who favor democracy, a system they know nothing about until they move to New York and see democracy firsthand; the living conditions among the masses are atrocious

Peace in our time
What can we say our hope for peace in Ukraine was declared, we are no longer sure if this is possible, the right words were spoken until someone mentioned the value of rich soil that had costly minerals within, and the talk of suffering humanity talk a pause, greed had entered the frame
Sure, we need troops to guard our ill-gotten treasures, friendly troops do you mind if there is a thing like friendly weaponized troops guarding
Earth treasure
While our leaders try to change the narrative to
tell us it is not about right or wrong but it is about saving the world for our benefit

The Future as Irony

If we try to look ahead, say ten years when ex-president Trump sits in a cell in Arizona sent by Elon Musk, who rules the world and has an army of all-seeing AI officials, people will wonder why Trump lived that long, living on burgers and Pepsi Cola, concluding it is a long-life diet they too must live by to become very old.
They don’t know that Elon Musk, the Titan planted a chip in Trump’s brain to keep him alive showing us he has no hard feelings against the man, who got him sacked in 2025 from a job he had taken delight in because there had been many protests from other wealthy people, who the truth was told about their thieving.
Elon Musk is a remarkable man, he puts on a false beard, puts in old clothes and pretends he is poor, walks into cafés, asks for a burger and coffee, if the staff refuses to serve the poor man food, Elon Musk reviles himself and fire the staff who has to beg for food to survive as a moral lesson, the chart-savvy people applauded him

No out

A man coming home from work saw a shadow
a figure leaning against a dead olive polishing
his hoofs and sharpening his scythe.
The man said no, you are too young to harvest
he then took a plane to Madrid
where he got employment at a legal office.
the first day, he knocked on the door
death sat in the chair and said
from now on, you are my helper
Go back home and dispose of your parents and their
time has come, greatly disturbed
the man took a plane home
and the death was leaning against an olive tree
a shadow on a sunny autumnal
day. In the house, his parents said they had  buried
their son, but they did not see or hear him,
and the man knew that henceforward he was
Death's little helper.

Human versus pre-human
Are humans born with a soul? I don’t know but I think a newborn child has yet to acquire a soul   A newborn absorbs everything it sees, including colors and voices, the way it is lifted up given a bath hugged, and song too, absorbed into the new memory bank and stored The child is not aware of this, but it is the building block to acquire a soul that can rudimentarily think, hence a soul that learns right from wrong now, if an AI figure is fed information like this does it, acquire a soul that has moral knowledge? If this is true, the ramifications are disappointing because we are only equal to an AI, who in time will master how to recreate itself

AI as soldiers
We see them walking naked through the town’s square, ***** and ****** organs not needed for the time being, the onlookers are not offended but worried about the strident gates of the new being walking like a soldier in a merciless army killing creatures big and small that have blood and have the sense of smelling the roses and is capable of falling in love and admire a full moon their overlord is a person dressed in a half-length black coat, who has the chip that can switch off the monstrous development into junk science an adolescent boy’s dream of tomorrow.

Stage Fright
This has been a long Sunday it started off with two toasts with cheese and the glucose rose to stratospheric, insulin is needed where the heck
Is the ****** needle, mlg if you please followed by a thundering heart and unwanted anxiety, I have tried to overcome for over 60 years
In my younger days, I tried to overcome my nerves by drinking whisky as a calmer which made me annoyed with anxiety-riddled myself
My wish was and still is to be a brave person, who is able to express himself with confidence But, no deal baby, I ended up alone in a room
It is not like I don’t know what caused my total lack of confidence, our dysfunctional family was poor and I was literary farmed out
I was fourteen years old when I was set free to get a job as an errand boy in an office of nice people, who made me feel loved and wanted
Somehow, despite my nervous hands and clumsy manners, I was able to get an education, which was well-paid, in the Norwegian merchant navy
Later in life, I was in the café trade both in Britain and in Norway a business one has to be social and I had the hope to be cured of awkwardness
Finally, I sold out and went to live in Portugal where I bought a ruined house, fixed it up, and for years lived alone with a dog as companion
My dog died, and my aloneness became ghostly until I met a woman and my life changed, but my nervousness didn’t, but it didn’t bother her
I look back on my life and ask how the hell, did I managed this, with a lump of fear in my stomach nervous hands, and a lack of self-confidence
The house on the prairie is sold, and my rustic dream is over, what the hell man, stop worrying about where to live tomorrow

As I sit in my chair, I stretch and feel, without hesitation pleased with myself, a voice utters, you are a ****, now, take Elon Musk……

A fake promise

This morning February
flirts with sunlight
And a promise of spring
on the horizon dark
Clouds gather
Don’t send the winter coat
For dry cleaning
The umbrella too can come
In handy

The cabal
The newest news is Europe is a fascist, with rules and regulations, and little freedom of thought if you write something they dislike be prepared to get arrested and jailed; the USA is a land where we are free to be critical of President Trump and his ***** pal, Elon Musk and you will not be harmed, ignored if you have no economic power meaning the poorer you are more freedom of speech you can enjoy.
The EU in Brussels is nothing more than a Brussels sprout hated by everyone except those who say it is a healthy vegetable; it is presided over by an elderly woman with iron hair who talks to herself in empty offices; NATO is a rusty tank in a potato field that can’t even be converted into a tractor its American general has gone home, like it or not, Trump set us free  
A big thanks goes to Tulsi Gabbard, who whispered the truth into a thankful ear, telling it that Europe was the enemy of freedom!

A poem

The blue flowers in the kitchen thrive
in the shade, and fading day is welcomed
In days of pain, mortality is not an intruder
Old battlefields have the greenest grass
bodies going back ***** they came
the blue flowers in the kitchen look lovely.

The cabal
The newest news is Europe is a fascist, with rules and regulations, and little freedom of thought if you write something they dislike be prepared to get arrested and jailed; the USA is a land where we are free to be critical of President Trump and his ***** pal, Elon Musk and you will not be harmed, ignored if you have no economic power meaning the poorer you are more freedom of speech you can enjoy.
The EU in Brussels is nothing more than a Brussels sprout hated by everyone except those who say it is a healthy vegetable; it is presided over by an elderly woman with iron hair who talks to herself in empty offices; NATO is a rusty tank in a potato field that can’t even be converted into a tractor its American general has gone home, like it or not, Trump set us free  
A big thanks goes to Tulsi Gabbard, who whispered the truth into a thankful ear, telling it that Europe was the enemy of freedom!

The white wall

To begin a new cycle is hard not much happens around here, the street is the same as yesterday Rui, the English, is still working the till at the local supermarket, smiles, speaks upper-class English, And carries a secret, I would like to know about
I think he is from a wealthy family, but a scandal broke out, he made the housemaid pregnant, and in his circle, it was seen as the apogee of horror, or he was involved in financial fraud and had to leave, hide, and change his name to Rui
At lunch, in the café on the first floor of our building, the old couple sat. The man, who is in love with my wife came over for a chat, and his wife smiled she knows her husband was useless, as for me. How can I be jealous of a man who is older than me?
Nothing else happened that day except for Trump, who wanted The Panama Canal and Greenland too, this pathetic, old President with his blond hair trying to look young, but he is not fooling us, this idiot trying to buy Gaza and move the population to Egypt
Then it was late afternoon and time for a nap

Writer's block
Today, while trying to write I noticed an ant crossing the opposite wall, for it was a vast expanse watching the ant’s progress, I noticed it stopped circling back like it had found something edible I thought it was disappointed resuming the walk until it disappeared in a crack between wall and ceiling to a hidden society we would never join
Are ants aware of our existence we are there like the day, spilling a drop of beer on the kitchen floor that teenage ants drink, get ****** and told off by their parents never to drink if they do they will be too fat to hide in cracks, by know I have lost interest I will write about Elon Musk, the biggest ant in the world

Social media
The X-twitter this morning was disappointing it consisted of 60% Musk and 40% Trump bragging about how great they are at winning the battle of saving America from the disaster of paying the poor too much and reducing medical aid to the old who must learn to fend for themselves  It is tiresome to see the same triumphant smiles and one wonders if they ever sit down asking if their presence in the oceans of opinions matters do they doubt themselves, are they ever unsure if they might be wrong, is their preening too powerful an impregnable wall hindering them to have souls, drowning in the glare of self-love I pity them should they see themselves for what they are utterly pathetic humans a failure of creation by a god of wroth

The less important

Every TV channel
carries
the same news, it is as posted from a news
central Trump is good, is Putin bad
and no one asks about its verity
by some nice people who look sincere.
I'm  overcome by angst
it starts from the inside going out
my skin is grey and pale and sweat drips on
my T. shirt.  
I should know but I can't find the source of
its conception, but I try something about
eyes and in them, I read, surprised by the oncoming
I saw him fall
heard the crack of a broken neck
Walking away, nothing I could do but
stepping over an inert body and into boisterous life

Hurt Europe
Starmer and Macron dislike leaving the scene of a crime, not yet concluded, they will meet for lunch to discuss how they can prolong the Ukraine war and help Zelinsky win over Putin’s Russia, they have been sidelined by Trump who wants peace and gets his praise, a Nobel Medal
Trump, the man doesn't want them meddling it is his alone, needs not a humiliated Europe to snag get their foot in with left-winged nonsense Rutte, the new NATO boss has read the ruins he talks about China to please the USA and thinks of sending troops to defend Indonesia.
After lunch, Starmer had lamb chops, Macron had oysters they walked to the Louvre and spoke about European culture, forgetting Europe is not a state but a landmass of many countries that might not share their knowledge of Rodin, later they went to Cabaret in Montmartre

for a little slander
The new president of America has told Europe to look after its own defense which means NATO without the USA’s help becomes a boy’s club for retired politicians pretending, they are a fighting force eager to defend Ukraine which can’t be done without dragging without risking a serious world war, they hands are tied since Ukraine s not in NATO, an easy excuse because we know it is not true, but it has not stopped leaders in Europe to hammer their support of Ukraine to get at the Russians although knowing the war could have been avoided but for idiotic policies
Oh, how Europe’s leaders hugged Ukraine to their hearts delivering money and weapons to what was and is a corrupt regime
How quickly they changed tunes when the USA told the truth, mates you are on your own we will not defend you anymore you are masters in your land and responsible for your own security How sweet it was to my ears spoken by a man we vilify because he wears a tie too long for the snobs in Brussels who has a leader that wears her hair as fashioned like a helmet
After a shocked silence voices were heard but the man was right, we are responsible for our security -silly sods- Suddenly -Ukraine was no longer Europe and must find peace with Russia Spring thawed in February, on Valentine's Day on a day when Macron’s and Obama’s wives exchanged glances
For us, we were humbled and ignored it was a great day too finally the war is not imminent but we must not forget the clever people in Tel Aviv will find a way to upset the Apple chart

Goodbye
Macron and erstwhile Starmer are meeting to talk about the USA’s change in politics against the war in Ukraine to find a new solution, but they fail to understand they and Brussel are redundant, they kissed Zelinsky’s corrupt hand and swore fealty to hubris how to get out of this Both men have in common they are power pervs selling their soul to stay at the top although they have nothing to contribute, they are egged on by the Guardian’s a Woke newspaper that this feminist  paper opinions is they have lost against reality of today’s worldview they are redundant Step aside new time has arrived and you are ghosts in the engine of realistic time

Like the father the son

He is a lovable rough, the father of a famous son who keeps us guessing what the hell he is up to next, a father who is a buccaneer, sails the deep sea, and fears not the tempests on his way
Can a son ask for more?
The father never was a nine-to-five sort of bloke who operated at the edge of the law, like a pirate would, fingers in many lucrative pies, that is what daring men do those, who believe in themselves, live to tell the tale.
The son might lack the old man’s charm, still, he has otherwise emulated him but prefers to stay ashore, an influencer of magnitude selling his ideas to those on top of the political heap and like his father faces tempest with bravado.
As for me, a shy poet, thrown ashore with irregular works and lacking the go-get appetite for life, his father is the type I wish I were.