small beginnings

Small Beginnings

To record the simple things in life is important because they are a mirror

of everyday folks life. “A Person collided with a hand cart a suitcase fell

off and was damaged,” this news, from the local paper.

 What do we know? The owner of the damaged suitcase could develop

a hatred against handcart handlers and set out to eliminate them.

Another handcart driver found murdered, the police are baffled, the only

The clue is a broken empty hand luggage it had been purchased in a Chinese

shop and had many finger smudges on.

At the beginning of this murder spree few took an interest but when 25

Handcart handlers had been murdered; it was time to avert the sight stop

slandering Putin and useless civil wars in the Middle East, take a vigorous look

the social system. A young reporter, now a respected political journalist

was able to solve the case, because he was the one as a cub reporter wrote

about the accident, remembered it only because the hurt in the eyes of

the suitcase owner’s eyes, the beginning of an unforgiving hatred 

Moon and Sun

Moon and Sun

dream Reality

dream Reality

Dream Reality 

They gave him a pacemaker

a few more years of life to hang on to

even if life is restricted

and cha, cha is out of bounds

and it is easier to walk on asphalt-

He sees the nature trail he

once followed to a small forest lake

but never tells that once he

saw a mermaid there and she

had no fishtail.

Truth and fantasy have merged

in his mind.

Only when sadness hurts do

he looks up and sees the rope hanging

from a beam.

A rope fit for a tyrant,

only the finest hemp.

Pacemaker, to be kept alive

by a battery...he smiles.   

Mice

Mice

Mice

Mice in the shed, she demanded

I do something.

I found three mice,

 surprisingly easy to
catch like they

had been saved.

Living on old newspapers and

still -born manuscripts

not much of a diet.

Kill them she demanded.

I put them in a shoebox

made a few holes and gave them

some bread crumbs.

In the tall grass, by the road verge

I let them out, that is they would

rather stay in the box.

Finally, they got the
message and

disappeared.

I looked up and said:

 “What about it God
any chance to

win on the lotto?

Parisians

Parisians 

Paris is often on my mind, she was a pianist in an unfashionable

night-club had a smoky voice- at least 40 a day- she looked like

a night without sex was a paltry end of her struggle to keep her

skin, the glowing youth of remembrance. Our eye blinks collided

trolldom? She was a hex and I was drawn to her charm.

In the morning I heard her in the kitchen she was pouring a drink

that if water is added looks like milk- She went into the loo and

had a pee and I was quietly grateful it was not a dump. 

I drifted off to sleep and only woke up when she awoke me having

made toast and coffee- She wanted me to stay, but I had a date at

twelve reading English written poetry for a group of Parisians

middle class twits, who would lamely applaud while thinking they

could have done it better in their legionary accent they thought was

an elevated a form of expression and we dumb people meekly have

accepted as a truth, the accolade of refinement. My French, elderly

seductress was from  Morocco and her father had been an officer in

the army who when he came to France was offered a job as a doorman,

a job he refused he went home and shot himself.

Yet I love the underbelly of Paris, it is where the poor and loses live

and if one of the succeed Paris middle-class will claim them and say

they were typical Parisians. 

gone ashore

gone ashore

Gone Ashore Sonnet

 I have sailed on many
seas

 they have various
colours and smell,

but being indoors looking out

it got a bit boring as well.

One can’t stand by a porthole all day,

 water stretching wet
and endlessly

I knew I was never going to see

green grass again.

From a mountain, I can
see the sea

but never go near the bloody thing

I swim in a river when it is hot.

Sea, shrieking gulls and rusty steel,

 I prefer the forest
and

the valley that has an unblinking eye. 

the ocean | Write Out Loud

the ocean | Write Out Loud

The Ocean

When he heard, I had
been a seafarer he wanted to know about

the ocean, “write it
down for me,” he said...What nerve.

The ocean has many colours one of them is blue, sometimes it
is

like a mud and often
it is black with shattering of greenness like

a spring day in the Alps. There are times when it a watery Swiss,

 enormous white topped
waves bearing down on your ship that

shudders like a wet dog
and only nuns keep their calm they have

lived a chaste life and expect to be handed a pair of wings
should

things go wrong. There
the is golden morning ocean, that blinks like

a million golden ducats are floating on its silky surface,
not to forget

the moon casting its dark mystic upon the ocean trying to
drag you

into its strange
mysteriousness. I could not tell him this because at

the time I was thinking of being in an oak forest chasing squirrels and

raiding their larders of nuts. 

The Poetry Reading a Sonnet

We stayed at a small hotel only brick throw away from one

of Paris’s famous hotel where British MP’s let themselves

be bribed just to stay there for a weekend with a cohort.

I was to read poetry and naturally petrified of the thought

of reading in public, but with the help of whisky was able to

perform, use a Richard Burton voice, with a Norwegian accent.

Poetry is a lonely craft and when poets meet much alcohol is

consumed and for once we feel it is our work is worthwhile.

My wife was not there she was visiting her family, rich people

who lived in the heart of Paris, rue Salazar, and I had to find

my own way back to the hotel and promptly fell and I woke

Up in the hospital. Two days I was kept there, my wife came

but not her family it appears my dislike of Israel and Zionism

has hit a raw nerve, but they sent me a card with grapes on.

lonely Christmas

lonely Christmas

Lonely Christmases

In Lisbon 20 years ago – time frame unimportant-

I was invited to a Christmas party by my new wife

family and it was a big family, who had travelled

from Congo, France and Belgium.

Plenty of food and wine and back then I had little

restraint and a great appetite.

The promise of not drinking much was forgotten 

and as had that day been upset by Israel’s

behaviour against Palestine I could not stop talking

about it as an injustice
always affects me.

I remember telling people that Jesus was a Jew and

we Christians were guilty of genocide.

Every Christmas since, we sit at home and give each

other gifts and her family ring her, how was I to know

they were half Jewish. 

Costa Rica

Costa Rica

In Puerto Lemon I met a girl, back then there were

many girls in Puerto Lemon, only she wasn’t of them,

she was the daughter of the harbour master

And she had class. I knew the harbour master well and

it was at his home I met her.

We had dinner, to my dismay it was alcohol- free

so many people at the table uncles,

and I don’t know and under my deep tan I was

in a permanent state of blushing,

shyness and timidity have always been my let down.

after dinner we walked in the park we held hands

and behind us her family.

A chaste kiss by the door, shaking hands, I was,

I think accepted.

And the girl, well, she had beautiful eyes but had

the odour of a nunnery and soft- drinks.

I hasten to the nearest bar and drank rum & coke,  

I met a girl there she also had lovely eyes.

Someone told the harbour master who didn’t think

I was suitable suitor, and his daughter had cried,

once again, I had lost a chance to be respectable

in Costa Rica. 

Costa Rica | Write Out Loud

Costa Rica | Write Out Loud

Costa Rica

In Puerto Lemon I met a girl, back then there were

many girls in Puerto Lemon, only she wasn’t of them,

she was the daughter of the harbour master

And she had class. I
knew the harbour master well and

it was at his home I met her.

We had dinner, to my dismay it was alcohol- free

so many people at the table uncles,

and I don’t know and under my deep tan I was

in a permanent state of blushing,

shyness and timidity have
always been my let down.

after dinner we walked in the park we held hands

and behind us her family.

A chaste kiss by the door, shaking hands, I was,

I think accepted.

And the girl, well, she had beautiful eyes but had

the odour of a nunnery
and soft- drinks.

I hasted to the nearest bar and drank rum & coke,  

I met a girl there she also had lovely eyes.

Someone told the harbour master who didn’t think

I was suitable suitor, and his daughter had cried,

once again, I had lost
a chance to be respectable

in Costa Rica. 

published poet | Write Out Loud

published poet | Write Out Loud

Published Poet

I wrote a poem 24 years ago,

I have forgotten it now,

but I was paid twenty quids

and my plan was to frame it

for anyone doubt

I was truly a poet,

My wife was sarcastic of this

paltry sum she didn’t get it

I had joined the rarefied

of a poet who had been paid

for his work.

I do not do poetry comps

anymore,

the excitement of winning was

too overwhelming.

the money note

The Money Note

Bad time for shipping and I had no work, slept on the sofa

in my mother’s small flat, she sat up late drinking coffee,

reading and smoking cigarettes.

I had a small unemployment benefit, mother took most of it

for lodging, I spent most days outside trying to find work and

sometimes I was lucky and got a temporary job as a washing

up at a cafe or cleaning the floors.

The old church in town was open to eight in the evening I often

went there to rest and sort of half sleep, one day in the front of

me I saw a big money note -500 coronas- picked it up, put it in

my pocket and debated whether to keep it or give it to the verger;

then organ music started can’t bear it and I left.

 I thought of dinner and a nice bottle of wine, took a closer look at

the note, it was 500 coronas ok, only it was monopoly money and

 quite useless, back in the church I put the note in the collection box. 

the author

Sombreira poetry

The Author

A man was coming to stay with us at our little farm, this
was years

 ago when someone who
could read the papers was an intellectual

or if not a clever dick too smart for his own good.

The writer was supposed to work too, as to get the feel of farm
life.

But he was weedy didn’t want to help with mucking out in

the barn in the morning, he had to go back to his
typewriter.

Finally, his manuscript was done he left a big eater he was
not missed.

Two years later when the book came out it has little to do
with us

but how hard he had suffered pretending he was a child slave
and

much was written about this, but no one came to our farm
asking us

about the man. Time has changed today people would have
asked

questions and not taking printed words for granted 

dispossessed

dispossessed

Hatred by the Dispossessed

On the Silverberg in my home town its name came

from a poor man who found silver coin there,

he handed the coin to the police who thought he had

stolen the coin and was feeling guilty about it.

The man got ten years although no one came forward

claiming the coin, eventually the authority confiscated

the coin which helped in building a house for the poor

the dispossessed that had never slept in a bed.

The honest man was freed after five years someone

somewhere had a conscience and pulled the right strings.

The innocent was one of the first people sent to

the poor house, but he had not forgotten what had been

don to him so he sat fire to the place. He was seen by

the top window looking out in a circle of burning hate.

dispossessed

dispossessed

Hatred by the Dispossessed

On the Silverberg in my home town its name came

from a poor man who found silver coin there,

he handed the coin to the police who thought he had

stolen the coin and was feeling guilty about it.

The man got ten years although no one came forward

claiming the coin, eventually the authority confiscated

the coin which helped in building a house for the poor

the dispossessed that had never slept in a bed.

The honest man was freed after five years someone

somewhere had a conscience and pulled the right strings.

The innocent was one of the first people sent to

the poor house, but he had not forgotten what had been

don to him so he sat fire to the place. He was seen by

the top window looking out in a circle of burning hate.

dispossessed

dispossessed

Hatred by the Dispossessed

On the Silverberg in my home town its name came

from a poor man who found silver coin there,

he handed the coin to the police who thought he had

stolen the coin and was feeling guilty about it.

The man got ten years although no one came forward

claiming the coin, eventually the authority confiscated

the coin which helped in building a house for the poor

the dispossessed that had never slept in a bed.

The honest man was freed after five years someone

somewhere had a conscience and pulled the right strings.

The innocent was one of the first people sent to

the poor house, but he had not forgotten what had been

don to him so he sat fire to the place. He was seen by

the top window looking out in a circle of burning hate.

dispossessed

dispossessed

Hatred by the Dispossessed

On the Silverberg in my home town its name came

from a poor man who found silver coin there,

he handed the coin to the police who thought he had

stolen the coin and was feeling guilty about it.

The man got ten years although no one came forward

claiming the coin, eventually the authority confiscated

the coin which helped in building a house for the poor

the dispossessed that had never slept in a bed.

The honest man was freed after five years someone

somewhere had a conscience and pulled the right strings.

The innocent was one of the first people sent to

the poor house, but he had not forgotten what had been

don to him so he sat fire to the place. He was seen by

the top window looking out in a circle of burning hate.

dispossessed

dispossessed

Hatred by the Dispossessed

On the Silverberg in my home town its name came

from a poor man who found silver coin there,

he handed the coin to the police who thought he had

stolen the coin and was feeling guilty about it.

The man got ten years although no one came forward

claiming the coin, eventually the authority confiscated

the coin which helped in building a house for the poor

the dispossessed that had never slept in a bed.

The honest man was freed after five years someone

somewhere had a conscience and pulled the right strings.

The innocent was one of the first people sent to

the poor house, but he had not forgotten what had been

don to him so he sat fire to the place. He was seen by

the top window looking out in a circle of burning hate.

dispossessed

dispossessed

Hatred by the Dispossessed

On the Silverberg in my home town its name came

from a poor man who found silver coin there,

he handed the coin to the police who thought he had

stolen the coin and was feeling guilty about it.

The man got ten years although no one came forward

claiming the coin, eventually the authority confiscated

the coin which helped in building a house for the poor

the dispossessed that had never slept in a bed.

The honest man was freed after five years someone

somewhere had a conscience and pulled the right strings.

The innocent was one of the first people sent to

the poor house, but he had not forgotten what had been

don to him so he sat fire to the place. He was seen by

the top window looking out in a circle of burning hate.

dispossessed

dispossessed

Hatred by the Dispossessed

On the Silverberg in my home town its name came

from a poor man who found silver coin there,

he handed the coin to the police who thought he had

stolen the coin and was feeling guilty about it.

The man got ten years although no one came forward

claiming the coin, eventually the authority confiscated

the coin which helped in building a house for the poor

the dispossessed that had never slept in a bed.

The honest man was freed after five years someone

somewhere had a conscience and pulled the right strings.

The innocent was one of the first people sent to

the poor house, but he had not forgotten what had been

don to him so he sat fire to the place. He was seen by

the top window looking out in a circle of burning hate.

dispossessed

dispossessed

Hatred by the Dispossessed

On the Silverberg in my home town its name came

from a poor man who found silver coin there,

he handed the coin to the police who thought he had

stolen the coin and was feeling guilty about it.

The man got ten years although no one came forward

claiming the coin, eventually the authority confiscated

the coin which helped in building a house for the poor

the dispossessed that had never slept in a bed.

The honest man was freed after five years someone

somewhere had a conscience and pulled the right strings.

The innocent was one of the first people sent to

the poor house, but he had not forgotten what had been

don to him so he sat fire to the place. He was seen by

the top window looking out in a circle of burning hate.

dispossessed

dispossessed

Hatred by the Dispossessed

On the Silverberg in my home town its name came

from a poor man who found silver coin there,

he handed the coin to the police who thought he had

stolen the coin and was feeling guilty about it.

The man got ten years although no one came forward

claiming the coin, eventually the authority confiscated

the coin which helped in building a house for the poor

the dispossessed that had never slept in a bed.

The honest man was freed after five years someone

somewhere had a conscience and pulled the right strings.

The innocent was one of the first people sent to

the poor house, but he had not forgotten what had been

don to him so he sat fire to the place. He was seen by

the top window looking out in a circle of burning hate.

dispossessed

dispossessed