the relentless | Write Out Loud

the relentless | Write Out Loud

The Relentless

I know, do not remind me, but today I saw my father

On TV, he is 110 and can dance salsa, so if I´m like him

I have years of gymnastic prowess 

I rang the TV channel asked for my dad´s address, they

didn't tell me against policy....ok.

I´m tenacious like the Wiesenthal centre pursuing war

criminals to their grave and spitting on it, because their

ideology to the pursue of old crimes have no limitation

nor forgiveness, but my father wasn't there, his voice

was ensnaring  women

A, this centre of vengeance has a duty to follow the old

Nazis to the point of ridiculousness, the lowliest guard

at a concentration camp will do an old face in the papers.

Alas the money well is drying out even evil Nazis have to

die and get a Christian burial.

And one wonders if a new law is being made that gives

the right of the survivors to follow and righteously

demand that the grandchildren of the wronged should

benefit too we remember the pain because a corny eye

 demands  ritual repentance.  

proverb | Write Out Loud

proverb | Write Out Loud

Proverb

Time cannot be put in a box and labelled

 What we did in the
past manifests itself now

What we do now will be visible in the future.

The Novice Sailor | Write Out Loud

The Novice Sailor | Write Out Loud

The Novice Sailor

It was ten o´clock in the morning I was struggling

to keep my balance looking out of the porthole in

the galley and the day was dark as acute hatred

against the living. Green waves hit the deck tried

to break portholes a full winter storm and fear of

the sea filled us with silence. Somehow the cook

managed to bake bread and make Irish stew and it

was my job to stop it from flying off the stove.

On an iron ship on the precipice of a mountain of

water; we were insignificant and vulnerable ants

on a leaf in an immense pool. Yet the sea calmed,

and the storm abated. I was fifteen and was proud

to have survived a winter storm in the north Atlantic,

something to tell my mum when coming home.   

The Novice Sailor | Write Out Loud

The Novice Sailor | Write Out Loud

The Novice Sailor

It was ten o´clock in the morning I was struggling

to keep my balance looking out of the porthole in

the galley and the day was dark as acute hatred

against the living. Green waves hit the deck tried

to break portholes a full winter storm and fear of

the sea filled us with silence. Somehow the cook

managed to bake bread and make Irish stew and it

was my job to stop it from flying off the stove.

On an iron ship on the precipice of a mountain of

water; we were insignificant and vulnerable ants

on a leaf in an immense pool. Yet the sea calmed,

and the storm abated. I was fifteen and was proud

to have survived a winter storm in the north Atlantic,

something to tell my mum when coming home.   

the quest | Write Out Loud

the quest | Write Out Loud

The Quest

When a child my father was absent from my life

I dreamt about him and gave him heroic status.

He was an explorer, submariner, western hero

and a general in the foreign legion; I never saw

him as a fireman though, children tend to see

them as heroes. Needless to say the sloth moving

town constable was a figure of fear and contempt

representing authority, vengeful and unjust.

When I finally met my father he had bad breath

and nicotine stained fingers.  I rejected reality

and went on looking for the real on, till I was old

and I had to admit he must be dead by now.

I look into the mirror and sigh, no doubt he must

have looked like me, melancholy is my name.

secret lovers | Write Out Loud

secret lovers | Write Out Loud

Secret Lovers.

It was early I looked out of the window

rain was falling gently, not slashing down

from angry sky, more like a soft kiss

 practised by some
long married where passion

is a river in a landscape of peace.

Rain stopped, only a few bigger drops followed

like guard dogs behind a flock of sheep.

Finally the shepherd fell, more than a big drop, like

a ball of rain that when it hit the western wall 

for a moment turned into a rainbow.

 I had witnessed earth
and sky making love an

occurrence only early raisers may hope to see.

secret lovers | Write Out Loud

secret lovers | Write Out Loud

Secret Lovers.

It was early I looked out of the window

rain was falling gently, not slashing down

from angry sky, more like a soft kiss

 practised by some
long married where passion

is a river in a landscape of peace.

Rain stopped, only a few bigger drops followed

like guard dogs behind a flock of sheep.

Finally the shepherd fell, more than a big drop, like

a ball of rain that when it hit the western wall 

for a moment turned into a rainbow.

 I had witnessed earth
and sky making love an

occurrence only early raisers may hope to see.

sun in your eyes | Write Out Loud

sun in your eyes | Write Out Loud

Sun in Your Eyes.

In the white sea of sun bleached straws

I saw a crow struggle, go under drowning

In the glare of sun heat and the end

of everything I was given the chance to

see, feel and intimately know.

An eddy of heated water was running down

the drain the wrong way hotter than lave

This must be hell and I ran away from

the struggle of the past and present dancing

in obscene sexuality in the shadow

under a carob tree... and I heard the raw

laughter of syphilitic whores mouths’

like gaping sore and a road of rotting teeth,

but I hear music to and am salvaged by a crow.

sun in your eyes | Write Out Loud

sun in your eyes | Write Out Loud

Sun in Your Eyes.

In the white sea of sun bleached straws

I saw a crow struggle, go under drowning

In the glare of sun heat and the end

of everything I was given the chance to

see, feel and intimately know.

An eddy of heated water was running down

the drain the wrong way hotter than lave

This must be hell and I ran away from

the struggle of the past and present dancing

in obscene sexuality in the shadow

under a carob tree... and I heard the raw

laughter of syphilitic whores mouths’

like gaping sore and a road of rotting teeth,

but I hear music to and am salvaged by a crow.

Zeus´s revenge | Write Out Loud

Zeus´s revenge | Write Out Loud´

Zeus´s revenge  

He,  the best racing
driver of all time, seven times

he won the championship and he was able to retire

still young and now very rich; yes the gods had smiled

upon this lucky man. 
What did they have in mind?

He had defied death hundred times was there a price

to be paid, a man with brutal skills and killer instincts.

 Winter holiday, we
saw him skiing down a slope,

 lost his balance and
fell, a banal accident one that

we laugh about, but his head met a rock and he lost

consciousness.

He lingers in his bed doesn't know his name, maybe

he never will, this hard fall from glory it is not fair

that he should live life on soiled bed linen till he is

 dead. No mourners,
but relief that at last his unjust

suffering is over and hundred books  about his exploits

will go unread on dusty shelves.

the pianist | Write Out Loud

the pianist | Write Out Loud

The Pianist

I flick through the TV channels. It is football

and football, except on Fox News, but they

are so insane there I rather watch sport.

I played the picturesque game once as defender

but I grew up and it was at the same time

as I stopped believing in god and that he looked

like the pianists in Alfred´s cafe.

I have often missed the pianist, not long ago I

saw him in Faro, followed him along the promenade

I fell over a pollard; he helped me up and said:

“Once and for all I´m not your father.” 

I once saw my father on the bus, he was an enigma

a shell that gave nothing away except being drunk.

 Totally unlike the
pianist who wears a beret, alpaca

jacket and a yellow silk scarf.

the pianist | Write Out Loud

the pianist | Write Out Loud

The Pianist

I flick through the TV channels. It is football

and football, except on Fox News, but they

are so insane there I rather watch sport.

I played the picturesque game once as defender

but I grew up and it was at the same time

as I stopped believing in god and that he looked

like the pianists in Alfred´s cafe.

I have often missed the pianist, not long ago I

saw him in Faro, followed him along the promenade

I fell over a pollard; he helped me up and said:

“Once and for all I´m not your father.” 

I once saw my father on the bus, he was an enigma

a shell that gave nothing away except being drunk.

 Totally unlike the
pianist who wears a beret, alpaca

jacket and a yellow silk scarf.

the pianist | Write Out Loud

the pianist | Write Out Loud

The Pianist

I flick through the TV channels. It is football

and football, except on Fox News, but they

are so insane there I rather watch sport.

I played the picturesque game once as defender

but I grew up and it was at the same time

as I stopped believing in god and that he looked

like the pianists in Alfred´s cafe.

I have often missed the pianist, not long ago I

saw him in Faro, followed him along the promenade

I fell over a pollard; he helped me up and said:

“Once and for all I´m not your father.” 

I once saw my father on the bus, he was an enigma

a shell that gave nothing away except being drunk.

 Totally unlike the
pianist who wears a beret, alpaca

jacket and a yellow silk scarf.

the pianist | Write Out Loud

the pianist | Write Out Loud

The Pianist

I flick through the TV channels. It is football

and football, except on Fox News, but they

are so insane there I rather watch sport.

I played the picturesque game once as defender

but I grew up and it was at the same time

as I stopped believing in god and that he looked

like the pianists in Alfred´s cafe.

I have often missed the pianist, not long ago I

saw him in Faro, followed him along the promenade

I fell over a pollard; he helped me up and said:

“Once and for all I´m not your father.” 

I once saw my father on the bus, he was an enigma

a shell that gave nothing away except being drunk.

 Totally unlike the
pianist who wears a beret, alpaca

jacket and a yellow silk scarf.

the view | Write Out Loud

the view | Write Out Loud

The View

They were climbing up a mountainside to get

 a better view of the
sea.

she reached the top before him, and he

breathed hard when he got up.

She laughed pleased she had won he smiled

too but was short on laughter.

He was strong, slim and looked athletic but

a doctor had told him his heart was weak

and not put strain on it, by too much sport.

His friends kidded him for his reluctance to

partake in long treks in the woods and

sleeping under canvas... slowly they drifted away

or rather he made himself absent because

he could not tell his friends about it they found

him cantankerous said he lacked the spirit of youth

and fun. Boring, his girlfriend said before walking

off. He was so big and strong, but didn´t have

the strength- or was it vanity - to be one of them.

too big to fall | Write Out Loud

too big to fall | Write Out Loud

Too big to fall.

Daybreak from cobalt to light blue the first sunrays

 hit the west wall,
and grey wall becomes brilliantly white.

 The sun kept on
shining the wall turned brown and

 finally self ignited,
and since it was a house wall the house

 burnt down, it took
the fire truck one hour to get to there.

But out of the ashes raised a ruffled cockatoo with a
lighter

in its claws, flew to the neighbouring house, where it sat

flicking it. A police officer tried to shot it, but missed,

the bird flew to the forest and many fires began, the arson

stopped, it was said, when it ran out of lighter fuel.

Everybody blamed the parrot and hunted it to extinction

as the sun was too big to obliterate. 

too big to fall | Write Out Loud

too big to fall | Write Out Loud

Too big to fall.

Daybreak from cobalt to light blue the first sunrays

 hit the west wall,
and grey wall becomes brilliantly white.

 The sun kept on
shining the wall turned brown and

 finally self ignited,
and since it was a house wall the house

 burnt down, it took
the fire truck one hour to get to there.

But out of the ashes raised a ruffled cockatoo with a
lighter

in its claws, flew to the neighbouring house, where it sat

flicking it. A police officer tried to shot it, but missed,

the bird flew to the forest and many fires began, the arson

stopped, it was said, when it ran out of lighter fuel.

Everybody blamed the parrot and hunted it to extinction

as the sun was too big to obliterate. 

a pleasure remembered | Write Out Loud

a pleasure remembered | Write Out Loud

The Pleasure Remembered.

I saw her in a cafe yesterday; years had not been kind to
her

her hair was matted, dry skin and her lips were a sullen
grimace,

not quite hiding her miss- coloured teeth.

Once, we slept entwined I kissed her body and often burrowed

my head in her honey pot and drank her love juice like divine
nectar.

She was just sitting there a lonely old woman thinking her
youth

lost in  thoughts and
her tea was getting cold.

It made me think of the nature of love, there must be a
physical

Attraction first, loving the person´s comes later.

If I met her for the first time today there would be no
physical

attraction but perhaps she would have had something
interesting

 to say , I didn´t
listen to her back just her cooing and sexual rapture.

The thought of sleeping with now was depressing and for
doing

 that...no. But we did
flew on wings of passion too high for us and

we burst into flames, only ashes left.  She looked around but didn´t

recognise me, why should she, a fat, bald old man reading a
paper. 

  

a pleasure remembered | Write Out Loud

a pleasure remembered | Write Out Loud

The Pleasure Remembered.

I saw her in a cafe yesterday; years had not been kind to
her

her hair was matted, dry skin and her lips were a sullen
grimace,

not quite hiding her miss- coloured teeth.

Once, we slept entwined I kissed her body and often burrowed

my head in her honey pot and drank her love juice like divine
nectar.

She was just sitting there a lonely old woman thinking her
youth

lost in  thoughts and
her tea was getting cold.

It made me think of the nature of love, there must be a
physical

Attraction first, loving the person´s comes later.

If I met her for the first time today there would be no
physical

attraction but perhaps she would have had something
interesting

 to say , I didn´t
listen to her back just her cooing and sexual rapture.

The thought of sleeping with now was depressing and for
doing

 that...no. But we did
flew on wings of passion too high for us and

we burst into flames, only ashes left.  She looked around but didn´t

recognise me, why should she, a fat, bald old man reading a
paper. 

  

a pleasure remembered | Write Out Loud

a pleasure remembered | Write Out Loud

The Pleasure Remembered.

I saw her in a cafe yesterday; years had not been kind to
her

her hair was matted, dry skin and her lips were a sullen
grimace,

not quite hiding her miss- coloured teeth.

Once, we slept entwined I kissed her body and often burrowed

my head in her honey pot and drank her love juice like divine
nectar.

She was just sitting there a lonely old woman thinking her
youth

lost in  thoughts and
her tea was getting cold.

It made me think of the nature of love, there must be a
physical

Attraction first, loving the person´s comes later.

If I met her for the first time today there would be no
physical

attraction but perhaps she would have had something
interesting

 to say , I didn´t
listen to her back just her cooing and sexual rapture.

The thought of sleeping with now was depressing and for
doing

 that...no. But we did
flew on wings of passion too high for us and

we burst into flames, only ashes left.  She looked around but didn´t

recognise me, why should she, a fat, bald old man reading a
paper. 

  

captain cook | Write Out Loud

captain cook | Write Out Loud

Captain Cook.

I built a ship in a vale of stones and thorny bushes

it took 24 years and a bit more .

 from here I set sail
on the dream boat to China.

I met her in the blue sea off of Malaga, sailed

on her to she was 71 and sought refuge in coastal

water and anchorage in the bay of Mandal.

Deep sea ship are so limited, they only sail from

port to port and are not allowed to stray from

the chart set by the man in charge; and every ship

looks the same, practical and sleepless.

Not once did they let me be in charge go back to

your galley you mad cook, they bellowed, you´ll

only collide with Dogger Bank, so I built my own

ship, four decks and a bridge too far from shore

to be of annoyance to no one and the locals call

me captain brave heart, the man who cleared

the dale of snakes. 

violet | Write Out Loud

violet | Write Out Loud

Violet Nature

A bacteria, lived in the sea it was green and

found its way  to dry
land, a desolate place

knuckle rocks, lava soil and sharp diamonds.

The bacteria thrived became the ancestor of

plant life our nature too became green, which

is a blessing, just think if the bacteria had been

lilac. On a mauve field horses trotted and under

lilac olive trees sheep grazed on juicy lavender.

How gay is that?   

violet | Write Out Loud

violet | Write Out Loud

Violet Nature

A bacteria, lived in the sea it was green and

found its way  to dry
land, a desolate place

knuckle rocks, lava soil and sharp diamonds.

The bacteria thrived became the ancestor of

plant life our nature too became green, which

is a blessing, just think if the bacteria had been

lilac. On a mauve field horses trotted and under

lilac olive trees sheep grazed on juicy lavender.

How gay is that?   

70 years ago | Write Out Loud

70 years ago | Write Out Loud

70 Years Ago

Riding through the flat ancient agricultural between

two the soft modulation of a stone less mountains

this place has every could green from the dark  olive

to shimmering bushes so delicate it looks like air

temporarily has taken a green plant´s  form?

Something is missing though an animal that brought

us humans up the ladder of civilisation: the donkey.

Look into its eyes; know the final chapter is missing.

Those beautiful eyes so full of sweet melancholy

A resignation of the cruelty of life after serving man

It ended up as dog food for spoilt pooches that are

so totally enslaved by us that they could not survive

in nature´s hard selection. Is that why we have wars

to separate the wheat from the chaff?  

summer wine | Write Out Loud

summer wine | Write Out Loud

The Last of the 
Summer Wine  

The field of straw is white

in the summer glare,

and ringed by deep green vines

its fruit is still embryonic,

June is too early for them,

not before end of July will they be juice,

red and ready to be turned into wine,

a dark bottle with a fancy label

 and it will be

said 2114 was a good year for wine,

before world war three began.

the king and I | Write Out Loud

the king and I | Write Out Loud

The King and I

I have seen the king of Spain abdicating

in full uniform, but his cap was too small

this made him look jolly except for his

cane and the small steps of an old man.

Until recently he looked handsome and

had many mistresses and he was fond of

hunting elephants; he has given up both

pursuits and is faithful to the queen.

Old age sometimes arrive suddenly, there

you are walking about feeling in tune with

the world, for next waking up in a hospital

being lifted by strong arms from a trolley to

a bed and have your shrunken penis cleaned

by a brisk nurse. The king and I are identical.

the king and I | Write Out Loud

the king and I | Write Out Loud

The King and I

I have seen the king of Spain abdicating

in full uniform, but his cap was too small

this made him look jolly except for his

cane and the small steps of an old man.

Until recently he looked handsome and

had many mistresses and he was fond of

hunting elephants; he has given up both

pursuits and is faithful to the queen.

Old age sometimes arrive suddenly, there

you are walking about feeling in tune with

the world, for next waking up in a hospital

being lifted by strong arms from a trolley to

a bed and have your shrunken penis cleaned

by a brisk nurse. The king and I are identical.

4 haiku | Write Out Loud

4 haiku | Write Out Loud

Senryu

 Only a fall leaf 

Blows where the wind takes it

We take the omnibus 

Senryu

Oak leaf scours asphalt

Autumn´s  worn out
dead beat

Can´t dance tango

Senryu

Rainfall in Yemen

Taliban under umbrellas

 Listen out for drones

 Senryu

Steps on gritted road

Slam of a car door and voices

The song of life

cookery programs | Write Out Loud

cookery programs | Write Out Loud

Cookery Programs

Chunky fists hit the kitchen sink...hard

 on every TV channel.

So manly they are we are not queers

but 100% men,

no flowery aprons for us.

Cooking was what women did before,

but no more,

now you get the Sunday roast with added

aggression and swearing.

The kitchen has been turned into

a battle field of egocentric men who´s 

ambition is to be the best in

the rarefied world of cookery

 It is not about you
the diner.

When the kitchen soldiers put food

 on your plate,

they try to make it into a work of art

when all you wanted was a steak and fried onions

at a friendly price.

woodland | Write Out Loud

woodland | Write Out Loud

Horrified Woodland

In the forest of bamboo poles walked it was hot and

I felt like a lost ant not remembering where its hill was.

I tried to pull up a bamboo pole I remembered that

as a boy I had a rattan fishing rod,

but could not, and it didn´t mattered I wasn´t

going to fish anything anymore. The panda likes bamboo
shoots.

I used to go fishing in the stream on

Summer evenings and when I caught some

the farmer´s wife fried them in butter ... delicious...

The stream is not there any longer, a beauty that was a
hindrance

to progress 

in the forest of canes I saw hyenas catching a baby elephant
and

eating of it before it was dead.

The real thing not Disneyland with mechanical crocodiles and
happy

ducks dressed as sailors.

It strikes me, here in the forest of oversized wicker
baskets,

that death is of no concern to the dead,

and that fat corpses will in time be slim, but that is of no
concern to

 the living.  

sweet nothing | Write Out Loud

sweet nothing | Write Out Loud

Sweet Nothing

I trapped the wind that made

dust dervishes dance in the back yard

Lured it into a sack with the promise

it could create a storm.

 I hit the sack with a
hammer this for

the wind had stolen my hair

and made me bald as an American eagle.

And Silvio works for me.

I beat the sack until the wind died.

and it got unbearable hot without

a cooling breeze.

I opened the sack and the winds was

blue as a Parisian afternoon.

Windmills and zephyrs will they ever be still?

sleep in the afternoon | Write Out Loud

sleep in the afternoon | Write Out Loud

Sleep in the Afternoon

The world he knew is disappearing,

erased, first the afar blue mountain vanished

then the steppe the horses that galloped

to the stream of cold water and freedom

to drink without fear of the lasso.

His village too has been erased, he looks out

sees a blank screen and shudders.

He tried to go out once but when he turned his house

was about to disappear and he hasted indoors, narrowly

reduced to a dot in the landscape of blankness.

He has taken to his bed in a half sleep,

 thinks of nothing,
his mind is blank, dreams gone

and no religious illusion disturbs him.

On a beam in the barn hangs a rope it was for him

but he lost the strength, his cowardice is absolute. 

and more haiku

Haiku

Old man

Spending his night

Finding a dream

Haiku

On lapsed path he walks

Blocked veins and dry blood

Black& white flowers  

Haiku

Ancient man

No future only vague hopes

Spiked roses