The Flowers of Fall
On the road to Bolequeime on the way to
the German supermarket that sells proper Teutonic sausages
autumnal blossom flowers sit on white plastic chairs
high heels and shorts
Sometimes a car stops, no, not the man in a white van
usually, it is a big car with dark windows a business man on
The way to the office. A quick blow-jobs nothing much else
to do in a car and no need to undress.
The flowers have water which they drink from after a job
in this line of work, no one smells the roses
They used in the summer gone look exotic on the beach and
clubs but only pensioners are here now and they walk
slowly in the sand, so they trek inland like beautiful **** by
the roadside and the dust of passing cars.
The roses look nice in falls light if you remember what love is
you’ll not find it here by the verge they only sell despondency

An accidental old man

A very old man fell down a hole when he was out
walking looking at the pattern of the clouds.
The earth was loose when he tried to climb up, kept
sliding down, so he sat waiting, and it was evening.
He fell asleep and during the night water from
an ancient sea rose and filled the hole so he could
float holding onto a root, and when the water was
level with the ground he could get up and get out.
The sea that had been trapped so long kept rising
and the valley became a lake and his house, which
had been on the high ground a sought-after property,
and he could afford to buy a coffin of mahogany  
with brass handles.

The Nightmare

So warm this August
A child is drawn to the ornamental pool
A surface of lilies
A mother calls for her child
A face white as lilies floats in the light
A mother scream pierces hole in the day
A fraction of a second nature is silent

The Lovers


On my walks in the interior of Algarve
I followed an overgrown track that once
had been a road for horse and carts.
At a clearing, I found a clumsily made shrine,
and on it with unsteady hands, was written
Pedro and Maria 1912.
I sensed an immense peace sitting here.
Love is enduring and everlasting.
Their tenderness is what I breathe
in the trees and plants.
Later on when I was lonely and sad
I went up there and warmed my soul
on their love.

Consensus

Democracy, a hollow word makes me laugh darkly.
Is the USA a democracy? You can vote every 4 years
Among two parties who spring from the same narrow
The base of the elite and is therefore not Democratic,
but gives the illusion like the democratic republic
Of Kongo, to be one and go to war against those who
Has another opinion, say, freedom from tyranny
And interference of foreign countries.
Freed om is more important than democracy which
Is a hiding place for thieves and land grabbers.
Israel, knee-deep in Palestinian blood, is a democracy
That brutalize their own people into thinking they have
The right to defend themselves, thus behave with
Callous insouciance towards the opinion of others.

The unreal versus the real

As a toddler, there was a war on, not that I noticed, there
Was a German camp nearby and I was their mascot let me sit
On cannons and their enormous horses, they also gave me
Chocolate and slices of bread with strawberry jam; so far my
War was idyllic.
Reality!
There were shots in the night, and the camp was lit up
Russian prisoners had tried to escape and sot for their attempt
On my walk I came across dead Russian, I knew they were gone
They had been my friends too, and snow was falling.
A big German took me in his arms and carried me home I Think
I had been crying; he told me it was a dream and to forget it.
Stillness, yes the stillness is what I remember no farmers were out
The land was empty.
I didn't visit my soldiers anymore preferred to play with the dogs in
The back yard I wanted to go home to my mum and just as peace broke out
I was sent home from the farm and witnessed the jubilation of
People who had been occupied for five years; and it was the beginning
Of cold winters and scarcity, they bore with forbearance.

The day Charles's mask fell off.

Charles Rose, a predator? He looks so harmless
on the screen, a person of high intelligence talking to Psychiatrists
like he was one of them, and then he does THIS!”
Men are more predatory than women it is an instinct, look at
the lion, why it kills little lions, yeah that is what I mean it is stupid
But a lion wants all the lionesses, that's predatory.
Thanks to our rapacious predisposition we have gone from using
flint axe to nuclear weaponry; why are men so stupid?
If you think of Israel as a man and Palestine as his long-suffering wife,
you have got it right. Hear her demands to be treated as an equal.
Charles Rose walking naked to his shower in front of women, did he think?
His 75 years old body was ****? Charles, I used to watch your program twice a week when I see you now I can't stop giggling.

Flag Days

In the village people are not keen of waving their
national flag about (Portuguese) it’s regarded as
rude boasting. An American, who once lived here,
hoisted the Stars & Stripes every morning and, at
times tied yellow ribbons on almond trees.

Politely we didn’t mention this banner madness it
was as it never happened ; then he suddenly died no
one took the flag down till it was in tatters and
blew off in a winter storm; as for yellow ribbons
the almond tree bears beautiful flowers in spring.

Fire Storm
A sudden fire in the undergrowth
a flame that spread so quickly
swallowing up small hamlets and forests
in the middle of Portugal.
57 people burnt to cinders many in their cars
trying to run away from monster flames.
The heat so intense sun a ball of hatred
except for the tourists by the beach who promise to come back next year.
We can't argue with nature, and with bowed
heads fight the fire and accept its vile ways.
Not so in London a tower block housed by the poor
cost the life of 100 people, this was negligence
by the careless using flammable material
those responsible for this crime must stand trial  now
and not let their inequities  be burrowed in  
the commission that will be released sometimes in the future

Winter Sea.

The sea is calm, sullen and pale cuffing against
the hull of my ship lazy as oil;
woolly clouds are panic stricken
running southward as followed by a pack of wolves.
There is a surge as the gloomy
sea begins to heave, too late now to reach a safe
haven, a tranquil Nordic bay.

We can’t escape as billows do it is getting
darker the ship shakes as a drunk sobering up;
to get through coming days
I’ll to seek solace in dreams of forest and lakes,
glades and silvery
carpets of glowing butterflies.
As for the ship, she can pretend to be a swan.

Appointment

I have unfolded my poetic wings
they have no feathers and the downdrafts
makes it impossible to soar
Tomorrow the doctor will see me, I have to walk
on a treadmill, just like Oscar Wilde
he wrote a book about it, I’m more modest
perhaps I can get an alternative poem out of the test.
I fear my doctor he has got cold hand and looks at me with distaste.
What I fear the most is a petrified blaze that turns roses into
bright diamonds no one will ever see and that oil spill
will cover the oceans with a rainbow slush.
Can't tell my doctor this, he will only give me a pill for it.

We are Brothers

I'm like you
My flaws are human
My vanity too
I'm what life has taught me
So much so
I can dare to disagree
With you
Yet hold you dear
I do not hide my nature
The good the bad
And the ugly
I'm a human, not a robot
Was not made
To be a diplomat
Consequently, I have
Few friends
Those I have I treasure

Chechnya

Retina less windows
Bodies, strewn in foul streets
A photo of Grozny

Summary executions
Death sways from unlit lampposts
Friend or foe, who cares

Conspiracy of peace
Both sides declare victory
The truth is debris

The Walker

He woke up when a nurse at the old folks home, kissed him,
because it was his eighties birthday, he knew this could
not be true he had slept for fifty years and now woken up
By a kiss. He looked in the mirror; the face was not young,
this was an illusion because they said he was old.
He set about capturing the lost years by walking across
Europe, from the south to the north, but to his surprise
when coming to a town people cheered him on and he
was famous as the man who was walking back in time.
When he reached the north of Sweden, he looked forty
he was treated as a sage; fans wanted to know his secret.
In a TV interview he said, “if you walk long enough, you'll
find the way home.” This was regarded as a truism, and
roads were clogged by elderly people trying to find their
youth or a time when they were happy.

The Wasteland

Through Gobi
I walked
Alone
Dislike
Smelly camels
A pilgrimage
God and I
In this dramatic
Vastness
Journey no
Wasted
Came out of this
Enormous
Real estate
Knew a lot
About sand
In shoes.

The Hamlet

In a deep valley, where winter sun doesn't reach
Time moves slower than normal and so damp
You have to wear a rain coat even if it is not raining
I came across a hamlet so muddy that dogs have
webbed feet,
duck tails and bronchial bark.
Only women dressed in jute sacks live her together
with ****** sons
who sit in dark recesses and sleep in the pig sty,
pull faces and laugh at nothing in particular.
Beans, pig fat, garlic and boiled cabbage is their diet,
and the women love death, waits for one of the fools
to die so they can have an ****, pull hair
and scream all night.
Seen from the top of a hill the hamlet looks
charming and rustic.

Lamb Stew

The ewe had
Two lambs
She rejected
The weak one
The shepherd,
Picked it up
It fell asleep
Cradled
In strong arms
He took it home
For his wife
To make a stew

Winter poem

This is a cold day overcast there is snow in the air
dogs are curled up in barns too chilly to howl at strangers
and unusual scents or noise, stillness hangs
as a shabby grey carpet of cobwebs on a stage abandoned
whispers of humanity are dust on floor boards
shuttered windows, roads unused we shuffle indoor
from room to room draped in blankets caught in the grip
of winter the time when the old dies.

There is hope on elevated sites that catch the sun
the almond tree blossom the bride of spring tells us it
will be alright we must hold on a few weeks more and not
succumb and crumble as a leaf on the tree of life

The Colonel

It was early morning and cold
He looked towards the long landscape of sand
the rebels had won with the help of al-Qaida,
and NATO bombs.
Someone somewhere had condemned him to death.
As he prepared to leave the sun arose as did
French helicopters shooting the shreds his caravan
and he was left at the mercy of the terrorists

A love story too  

We are making love
But in your eyes I see
You think of someone else.
At ******
You shout out the name
“Rudolf.”
Who the hell is he?
I resentfully ask.
The red-nosed reindeer
You say and smile.

Syria, my lovely

Asma al-Assad, the wife of the president in Syria
  her crime is to be married to Bashir al- Assad.
Since the president of Syria is sitting pretty, they had to find a softer target hence his wife.
Hadn´t she defended the Syrian army, said they were brave
they must be after ten years of war?
Remove her British citizenship, and we shiver by the thought.
There was an insurrection, and it was crushed.
It could have stopped there if the west had not meddled and
American bombs terrorized the civilian population.
This endless war many Syrians fled, who can blame them?
NATO, too, got involved, this dangerous beast full of generals looking for a fight.
any action, as long it has a pre-fix, “democracy.”
Assad´s chemical attack on the civilian population, surely a war crime.
A Canadian reporter said it didn´t happen, it staged by the white helmets, and no one was reported dead.
The lady reporter had upset the narrative, was sent home in disgrace and now covers handball matches in Seven Rivers.
I Denmark they are sending the Syrians back they say it is safe, they will be safe if the west will stop interfering

Forthcoming
Last year
He came out of the closet
Had spent
Thirty years
Trying to find
The right pair
Of shoes

Titleless
                        A rock fell
Off the mountain
I listened
For the last echo,
Heard a sigh.

The Vanished Aircraft
The plane that disappeared some years ago
with 290 passengers didn't fall into the sea
but landed at the back of the moon, where
The landscape was surprisingly lush if pale as
there are no red roses on the planet.
There was life on the planet, different in
shape and form and easy to tame and taste
like chicken, and disappeared as the Kiwi bird,
or almost as it was the plane's passengers
the only source of meat.
But there are plenty of edible fruits and vegetables
with no name yet; not to forget
a new religion that worships the earth and
Dali Lama since everyone knew about him others
as presidents remembered are archangels.
There was peace until politics entered and split
people into several camps, for now, they
have no weaponry, so fighting is like shadow
boxing in the pale blue light.

Artists

Alfred, by chosen father, vehemently denies
the paternity and has had his statue erected in Faro.
At last, he was honoured for being glorious
bringing colour to an otherwise gloomy town.

Graffiti made by the like of Banksy charms
the rest is scribbling on a wall.

I know little about painters except for Caravaggio
he spoke the unvarnished truth about our life.
His critics like to point out that he was illegal too
what else to expect of the fearful.

The Norwegian club

We went there last night
it was set in a wine bar and the prize,15euro each,
I refused to pay that much.
The bar was almost empty but for a group
of Norwegians who sat whispering in a corner
And there was no one to welcome us.
I was donating some books to the club
left some of them on a table.
No one stirred.
I thought the scene was surreal.
We left and had a meal at a Portuguese
restaurant.
I suppose the books were thrown away
after closing time.

A lady’s dilemma  

Her mind and body are restless
she is in her late-middle-age
a difficult time for a woman.
Her long relationship with a well-off man
has made her economically safe
but she is bored
thinks there has to be some more
before she loses her looks
and disappears into elderliness.
She has grown up with children
they don´t need her as much as before.
A part of her also likes to be settled
married and have a home of her own
She is also worried about her legacy
be sure her children
have something to remember her by.
There is something hectic about her
like time is running out
She might seek solace from her turmoil
in another man’s arms.
She is in a dangerous time of life
I hope she chooses the right path.

Nature program
  I can't use the internet the line is broken
can use the word-processor though but on whole
I have to watch TV for news.
today I saw a nature program about spiders. The one
that impressed I was a spider that walked up
To the intended victim and told a series of jokes to
the intended victim rolled over laughing, it was
then my spider punched and injected venom in to
the laughter that kept giggling.
I take it the joking spider told the same jokes since
the audience died every time.

Endless love
My brother is a commander
On the high seas
Never speaks to me
Now that he has mastered
Prising sky from sea.
The destroyer of love
But he too must see
It was a pyrrhic win
When the lovers meet

The Failure
When I was bored with sea life
and walked ashore in Santiago
I could find no work except in house of ill repute
throwing out the rebellious and for some reason
became a father confessor to the women, not a good start
No one wanted a book- learned man who had read Nietzsche
so when the money was gone it was back to sea.
any ship would do as long as I was paid so I could leave and
try my luck. I got a job on a Liberia type ship that looks as
it was ready to sink – it did after I left- for some reason
the ship was going to Norway it is a mystery we got there.
After years of self-disgust, I had a heart attack and the state
gave me a sick benefit which was not enough to live on
in Norway so I want to Portugal and stayed, there deep in
the interior and spent my time walking or writing
alternative poetry with little success, which disappointed me
that not being knows, until I realized it didn't matter
I had found my Shangri La and that in the end is my goal in life.

Looking for Redemption


                      Great minds are at work to prove or disprove
the God's existent's we know this I a game the intellectuals play
because they cannot accept the plain reason,
the world exists because it is an illusion.
a conjuring trick, forgotten by its creator.
God is a perfect idea it resides in everyman’s mind
It asks an abstract good for life eternal,
an echo no God can answer

The burning
Let Rome burn, so spake Nero or one of his flunkies
Towns and cities are burning every day in the Middle East
Flames taste not of roasted chestnuts in the Alley
Of peace but the stench of hatred fills the air.
This will continue till the last drop of oil, better still
Until we don't need petrol for our cars any more.
In the middle of this, we have Israel armed to the teeth
Yet fearful, it is as it knows the future is lost.
I wonder why so many high ranking officers in the USA have  
German surnames, one thinks it is a tradition.
In new wars to come it will be about water- resources.
Look out Scandinavia, so you don't end up like Libya.

A Beach in Cascais

On the beach of Cascais
Human seals, jam-packed
Soaking up the sun.
Female seals
are eying each other.
Who has the best tan?
Then they all go home
To dark shuttered flats
The fear of being seen
At home by prying eyes
sits deep in the mind
Of the Portuguese.

The Enemy among us
The western world has lived in peace for sixty years
mainly because of EU and shared horrid memories.
This has not been the Palestinians case who were
shooed away to give room for a colony called Israel and
those who object – freedom fighters- are called ISIS.
The USA have dropped bombs in the middle -east for
a long time and produced more ISIS fighters which now
is a common name of all who do not like being bombed.
Ex-president Obama sends drones they are intellectual
from the out- set. Trump drop a bomb the biggest in the world
it made a terrible noise, and 36 Taliban were
killed, they too are called ISIS.
(In Trump's case one wonders if he suffers erectile dysfunction)
China and Russia is ISIS in disguise, as are left-wingers
and those who do not believe in the American dream.

The inmates

The young prisoners with slingshots
fight an army that shoots back with sharp bullets
The young keep on fighting
An enemy that knows no mercy, control the water
supply and electricity.
How many young men and women must die?
Is the enemy willing to commit mass ******?
to eradicate a race of people?
The world looks but says little and some elderly
ask: why can't the young prisoners behave.

He was no Alfred

The war was over my father was coming home from the sea
he had chocolate bars, and inside one there was a picture of a film star
propaganda is not new- my picture was of Clark Able
I remember the bar of chocolate as being a bit stale, but sweet.
I was in bed at the time, was pale and thing suffering from tuberculosis
my old man looked aghast and said; is this son?
A furious argument erupted, my father had to leave, never saw him again
except on the bus going into town, he sat there crying
and I left to avoid the embarrassment.
But this was years before I met Alfred, who refuses to be my father.

The phobia  

Went to the Carnival in Loule I'm sure it was nice
I felt like the branch of a tree hurtling down a river
Of humanity a maelstrom, a headless monster and
I was filled with panic; a scream was working its way
Up my throat, I found a breathing space by a doorway
As the float with lightly dress girls came there was
A surge towards the edge of the pavement a vacuum
I was able to run and found a dark side- road where
masked people with evil masks played with fire.
I found my way to a normal street I knew in a café had
A sandwich and drink water, I'm in a dry cycle seeing my
Doctor at the end of the month and if she asks If I drink,
I can honestly answer no.
This fear of throngs of people should not be taken lightly
But I was able to flee but also take a picture of the girls

The Teeth
I sit under a skylight the sun is benign
this February day and its Friday come to think of it.
It was not a good night; sleep was interrupted by
this sense of being a failure, although I had not set out
to win the world's admiration, but I know of a lad
that had plans he ended up peeling potatoes, and
which can be an art in itself not peeling to deep.
It is my wife’s birthday, and we are going out for lunch,
Then we are going to the jeweller to change
The gift I gave her to something more to her liking,
I dislike when she does this, but it is her birthday and
as it is a said her only day to shine; of course, for me, she shines
Every day when she has taken the teeth out of the water
solution and put them into her mouth.

The anti this…
We can be anti this and anti that
say, our hatred of Muslims is there but not deep
and is often based on ignorance.
But we have to face the fact that anti-Semitism
is in the psyche in the western mind.
Here we have to differentiate between Israel and
the Jews as there is not many of them  
in that state of Israel, the sitting government
there are Zionists.
What worries me way anti-Semitism is deep-rooted,
we have to be aware of our feelings at all time
but why is it so?
Of course, the Jews are successful people who
tend to come on top in economic matters, if our
hatred is based on envy we should be ashamed
and clean our souls.
After the war and the pogroms faced by the Jews
in my country to behave Jewish still denote
a negative emotion, like greed, and underhand
as being Jewish when it is not.
I blame Christianity too, over the years, has put
fuel to the fire with Jewish rhetoric.
We must come to the understanding that a Jew
is a fellow man with good and bad qualities  
as I have a look at facts and not the myth.

Stay at you lest

In the working class district where grew up
Stay with your lest
most boys began working in a factory when old enough
they married to a nice wife had a little flat and children.
they continued being solid workers till the reached
pension age got a watch and a picture in the local paper
dressed in ill-fitting suits looking solemn and proud.
They had done their life’s work and could now
sit in the park or feed the ducks and wait for dinner.
I didn't want this went to sea and later at catering academy
but I was a lousy ****** spent most of my time reading
and when I had reached the pinnacle of my profession was
utterly bored and rebellious I was not wanted and
took a job on a ship anywhere in the hope of finding what
I was unable to define. I tried writing, prefer the vignette style
used English or the Norwegian language, it was a slow going
liked to do what I did even though, I was rarely published.
I sit in a small cabin far from home and know I should have done
as the other boys become a reliable worker with a nice wife,
They found dignity in their place I should have done the same.

The undead?
One day, a high summer season, I drove my bike
along with a narrow track, the led me deep into
a landscape that once had been domesticated
but now had gone back to nature,
I came upon a small clearing ringed by tall
umbrella trees leaving the clearing in an ominous
half- light where sun glare danced among
the branches of trees and bushes; I saw three
hearses and a van, none of them had wheels
the windows of the last-ride-cars had been
taken down and flimsy curtains put up to give
it a resemblance to home.
A family of itinerants had found sanctuary here
and I was not welcome; they threw pebbles at me
and I had to turn the bike around sine
narrows forest road ended at their camp.
They came running, trying to catch me, and dogs
snapped at my heels. I have never attempted t
be back since but, often think why some people
are so poor they have to live in a hearse.

All alone in Paris

I fell into the Seine
Called for help in English
Was ignored.
By accident more than luck
I got ashore.
A man sat fishing
He was English,
“Why didn’t you call for help France?”
I’m a tourist
“Everyone should speak French I’m
A  Francophile. He said
And refused to answer your plea for help.

stillness

On this calm day
the reflection of a ship in the bay
a mirror of tranquillity.
Meanwhile, not far from here
A lost war continues
the order is to hold on.
Wrecked cars litter streets
of battle
like broken dreams.
So, many things flying through the air
the heaven weeps.
Is the calmness deceptive?

For a few Lovers more  
I was driving along and on the car radio Rod Stewart
sang “have I told you lately that I love you.”
Why do I find it so hard to say those simple words?
I have practised in front of the mirror looking like an actor
who knew his lines but have no talent of imagination.
I bought her a car. Instead, this made her happy now she
could drive to see her lover, and return earlier  kiss my bald
head and say : I love you, thinking of him
I met him at a party and said I love you…for making my wife
so happy, he was stunned into silence.
She stays home now I think he broke it up because every time
they made love to he was thinking of me the zing had gone
it was in the open the affair had lost its dynamism.

About fish

Something made me think of fish
not those in tanks which life must be boring
swimming around and around
until tired and resting at the bottom
wondering how to get out of this watery trap

Do fishes think or is it all instinct?
Say, two codfish meeting each other on the coast
of Greenland: hi, their old mate hasn’t
seen you around for a while? No, I met an escaped
farm salmon, but it didn't work out

It got broody wanted to swim upstream
being a bachelor, I took my farewell and escaped.
Chased and being chased that’s life
a proper fish instead takes its chances rather than
living in a glass tank

Catalonia
This is my first opinion in a new slim volume of vignettes
they are celebrating in the streets of Barcelona they are and the independent nation now,
they were independent, but now they are a republic.
Tomorrow the people will be sober, where is the money coming from,
they have to print their version of the Euro, the one they had is no longer a legal
tender. Businesses and banks are moving to Spain, Catalonia is a member of no one.
If the Catalans are willing to suffer years of need, just to be a republic, that is ok,
but this freedom movement full of propaganda of suffering Catalans will hurt them
more than Spain that merely followed the rule.
It was not about independence but about money Catalonia is prosperous an as
the saying will not pay for the poorer region it is as simple as that.

The River of life

The mountain ice gave birth to a river
Crystal clear down rapids that were an ecstasy
Of ****** pleasure smoothing rocks  
Foaming of joy let it never stop do it again
The stones said.
But some waterfalls were not so silver-tongued
Ending in eddies of resentment.
The water became corrupted by overuse as it
Reached lowland of temptation
A wide flood running slowly towards the ocean
Where it will be clear again and regain its innocence
Alas, it cannot make the journey once more.

Old man drives in Alentejo

It was a warm day, with hints of fall, when he travelled through Alentejo
He stopped many places and took pictures of the undulating landscape,
Grazing cows and sheep resting under a cork tree, and no ****** drones
will come, blow up farms and **** the cattle.
He stopped at a small village inn, it was empty, and the owner told me
He had to close; the people had no work and lived on bread and potatoes.
Ah, this clear sky a painter's paradise, had a hidden sun-drenched
poverty will they ever wake up and start another revolution or are freedom
curtailed by EU, doomed to a life without laughter.
The farms I saw were farms producing cash crops that looked colourful
but didn't need workers, and it was not meant to be like this.
There was great hope after the revolution in 1974 when the landed elite
lost their land, but somehow they got it back, using their influence
and money. The old man ate lunch and drank red wine and thought
of poverty and sun go hand in hand in this blessed land.

Selling books

A friend of mine who used to be my editor,
until I discovered she was bewildered by commas,
has gone all mercantile, if you buy one of her
sweetly decorated books with flowers, you also
get a doll presumably made of plastic.
The child had no memories yet, only that he loved
his mother, father, grandfather and aunts.
The Israelis will say he was paid by the “Hamas.”
to go play in the sand.
If you buy one of my small books at Kindles, I will
send you a picture of a dead Palestinian child.
Truth is a costly gift, but in general, a doll is more
popular and cosy.
When the doll has been hugged enough and thrown
away, the truth, like granite, will always be there.

A Good Lunch

They didn't have a good cook at the restaurant
on the first floor, they have got a new one now
and it showed, we had a Stroganoff with rice
it was so good we had a glass of red wine each.
It proves my adage you can make a restaurant
with posh sitting and décor but its reputation
depends on the food served.
In my youth, this was not understood and you
got a resentful, rebellious character smelling
of drinks because he had to serve the cheapest
dish, again and again, this didn't matter so much
as people came to drink wine and sod the food.