Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
another war
Another War?
The young prime minister is declaring war he looks righteous and
proud, his historical moment. ...We fight for the Libyan people,
but something disturbs me, the braying for one man’s blood.
The excitement of going to war, this lust for action sits deep in our
mind, jingoism brings its own political reward.
A just war? The man Kaddafi is an odious bully and oil supply must
be secured. But is it not also a selective war? People are being killed
in Yemen, an oil poor country; why not declaring war against their
repellent autocrat?
For now the Israeli are busy building settlements on occupied land,
they know a democratic Middle East will shift the balance of power,
a united Arab world will demand it. So let the war commence, but
I regret our leaders look of, almost, sexual excitement when issuing
orders kill the enemy.
The young prime minister is declaring war he looks righteous and
proud, his historical moment. ...We fight for the Libyan people,
but something disturbs me, the braying for one man’s blood.
The excitement of going to war, this lust for action sits deep in our
mind, jingoism brings its own political reward.
A just war? The man Kaddafi is an odious bully and oil supply must
be secured. But is it not also a selective war? People are being killed
in Yemen, an oil poor country; why not declaring war against their
repellent autocrat?
For now the Israeli are busy building settlements on occupied land,
they know a democratic Middle East will shift the balance of power,
a united Arab world will demand it. So let the war commence, but
I regret our leaders look of, almost, sexual excitement when issuing
orders kill the enemy.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
short poems
Short poems
On paper napkin
I wrote a haiku moment
In the bin it sings
Empty café
Five flies on a table top
Drink spilt milk
Stubborn phone
Glum sits on sideboard
Refuses to ring.
On paper napkin
I wrote a haiku moment
In the bin it sings
Empty café
Five flies on a table top
Drink spilt milk
Stubborn phone
Glum sits on sideboard
Refuses to ring.
Friday, January 21, 2011
देमिसे ऑफ़ माय horses
Demise of My Horses
I had been away for a few days,
visiting the aunts of Cascais,
and found my three stone horses gone.
Just cheerless holes
where they had been tethered.
Widening the road, they said
and for that beauty must go.
When a road is enlarged more
cars will fill the space until
the bigger road is too small and
they decide to build a motorway.
The other side of the road will be
impossible to cross and neighbours
will become strangers.
Sun or rain endlessly stunning my horses were
before turned into grit.
I had been away for a few days,
visiting the aunts of Cascais,
and found my three stone horses gone.
Just cheerless holes
where they had been tethered.
Widening the road, they said
and for that beauty must go.
When a road is enlarged more
cars will fill the space until
the bigger road is too small and
they decide to build a motorway.
The other side of the road will be
impossible to cross and neighbours
will become strangers.
Sun or rain endlessly stunning my horses were
before turned into grit.
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