the sin

The Sin

It must be a tragedy to be a man and a paedophile what

treatment is there for an unspeakable lust the forbidding

feeling, the dreams, the church which is a wrong place to

confess a priest is not viable he has to cure himself of this

ugly vice. Is it a vice for a child liker for him this is

the sexuality he was given it was not asked for a burden of

always hiding yet goes to places where children assemble

and from their young bodies oozes a newness like a scent

that threaten his social standing should it be known and

should he succumb he will be cast out loose his employment

the sneering people goading him and he will join  the people

of the night. 

Phobic condition

Phobic condition

Phobic condition

I woke up it was afternoon and I had made

guest appearance  in
my dream.

it was winter I stayed on the sunny side

of the road watching you struggling with your emotions.

I shook my head and told the swans flying to Africa,

on the way he never gets past sixteen and his wings

are not properly developed.

Stop making excuses we have seen him fly, at night

he lacks the courage to make it in public

if you leave him alone and stop worrying he just might

make it to the podium 
and speak his poetry

a new love

A New Love Story

I had stopped at the rural cafe for a coffee it was a day when I was

not feeling a day over seventy she was around fifty and incredible

young her waste was that of a waif at the beginning of life.

She was so beautiful and she smiled inviting me to sit by her table

 and I was only drinking coffee. I told her amusing stories of my life,

mostly lies- and she laughed, not a bored mirth while looking at

the time thinking of the right moment to slip away the clutches of

my unwanted attention. Good time has me has a limit, so much and

not more, her husband came in he had been to the garage, had the car

fixed and he told me all about it down to the smallest dreary details

A nice man with oil on his hands and I hated him, but I could not kill him

and claims his wife as mine, the thought faintly amused me,

and they drove off. I loved her immensely and she reminded me of

my wife`s niece I love her too, perhaps it was her but I was too old to see

as handsome faces take on a mask of a smiling Janus

the bus trip | Write Out Loud

the bus trip | Write Out Loud

The Bus Trip

We are driving to Cascais on Sunday my wife wants to take

the bus she thinks we are too old to drive 300 miles.

On the bus you might risk sitting by someone who can`t afford

water or soap that is a low grade working person on his way to

use a spade and whatever to build a trench that keeps the water

away when it is raining

I`m  a tonic water socialist and read the Guardian, crystal glasses

and a sneaky fag on the loo. To meet a proper working class person

would shatter my illusion and bring back a memory of my father last time

I saw him it was on a bus and he was drunk.

I will drive- anyway- not long from now I will not be able to they are

putting up obstacles to stop us old ones driving 

a none writing day

 A none Writing Day

The freedom of not writing anything is an illusion

today I will just sit there and listen to the news

Turkey is having problem and it has nothing to do

with me although a poet friend of mine Erken may

be upset several police officers killed perhaps one

of them was her son and I can`t send flowers in

case it is not so. I only like Portugal in the winter

when it is cold enough to put an extra jumper on

when sitting indoors....that were the days.

What do I know? Perhaps Erken is a Russian spy

who speaks five languages perfectly  without fluffing

neither a line nor breaking the wind when talking to the pope.

Knows the sewers of Istanbul like the street going home

 and analyzes the shit falling from the American embassy

When it is discovered that the US envoy suffer from

diabetes she will be promoted by Putin.

Come Home

Come  Home!

I dislike Israel but accepted her as a historic

happening and a place where Jewish culture

can flourish undisturbed foreign culture, and

thus can sink into navel gazing.

But it cannot be so Europe without Jews and

the Jews without Europe`s culture is a script

of disaster that is not yet written.

We in Europe need the Jews as scientist and in

the arts , but the Arab World does not need

 resentful Jews who brought an iron heel to people

for crimes they have not committed, but  guilt that

lives in the culpable images of the Abraham’s people.

forgotten lives

Forgotten lives.

Happiness is an odd thing I have been watching

a program called “Benefit Street” where poor people

try to make a living out of poverty and chaos

Roma, English, Irish and Polish people live there trying

to make a living out of old iron.

There are laughter and smile and occasionally anger

but they survive and now we want their dignity by

reducing any help by those who keep the nation

falling into utter despair.

Because one day soon they will come knocking on

your door throws you out and move in. You can treat poor

people badly a long time, but not all the time

 they will back and  crush you and your privileges like

a smeared paper napkins flying in the wind