Auckland Poetry.com

drumsticks and soldiers

At The Garage

In the forecourt at the garage, cars for sale, scrap metal on wheels,
hoping for a buyer before the big crusher comes. Inside the garage
several cars with open bonnets, I heard drilling sound, even posh
sports cars looked daft; I rather have a horse, but can’t afford one.
The mechanic said my car needed a valve; I had a heart valve replaced
some years ago and feel fine, so I said yes. Pockmarked walls, perhaps
during the revolution they executed people as they did in Chicago
on St. Valentine’s Day, in the days of Capone. Late in the afternoon
I picked up my car, with a new valve the paintwork glowed.

A foreign country

The flat was on the third floor, three flights of wooden stairs
deep groves from generation of people walking up and down.
In the living room I sat down. Had been away for long no one at
home. The autumn wind blew, the house swayed and creaked
like an old schooner meeting the Atlantic swells.

A simple living room, a few family pictures and an amateur
painting of a row boat in a fjord, boathouse, blue sky and sea,
a far hazy silhouette of a mountain range. The painting was
ominous by its deadness. I got up went down the same stairs;
I had entered, the past and those I knew had gone.

The Keeper of the Peace

Behind high walls cypresses’ stand dignified and tall,
the iron-gate leading, in to a silent Paradise, is open
white marble and names in golden letters.

In here traffic noise dies down, a perfect spring day
comes to an end. I feel at ease here, have no regrets,
this place will one day be my home.

The gardener smokes a cigarette, fine Turkish blend,
tickles my nose, wish I could smoke too. With a big
key he locks up and wishes me safe journey.

Laughter.

When I wake up I see coloured worms crawling around just
inside my eyelids .When I open my eyes I see exploding stars
and green moons. I fumble switch on the bedside lamp and
life return. Beside me a woman sleeps, knows nothing of my
agony. I sit on a chair in the living room big yellow pearls of
sweat run from my brow down my stomach, disappear into
my pubic hairs as I think of all my failures and I say to myself;
“now try to remember something nice.” I close my eyes
coloured worms have gone only a forest of green reminds, of
a place to hide my everlasting shame. But I hear laughter,
whether it is of scorn or not, doesn’t matter I’m a clown and
want you to love me.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/may/25/israel-nuclear-weapons-editorial

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/may/25/israel-nuclear-weapons-editorial

Twenty years in Algarve (biography)

I have lived in the upper Algarve for twenty years. I have been hiding away
from life all those years, I know every bush tree, every bend in the road,
seen, seasons coming and go, trapped in my own alcoholic mind, unable to
be free from this slavery that only makes me feel at ease when the bottles
have been emptied and sleep brings in a new day. Then working through
the day, blind never taking the time to befriend anyone, relax; for my quest
is the night when I can open a bottle of wine and dream the loser’s reverie
and see myself if I could be free of the pasts ghosts. My childhood is my
nightmare, only wine, for a while, stills my fear; those disgusting people
who abused a child. Shall I ever be able to break the chain of fear, feel
equal to fellow man? Alcoholism is a burden, a struggle I’m losing as I sink
into old age misery.

Sunday Lyric

These skies missed a star the night you were born
While technology weeks before had revealed
The coming of a baby girl
Coming to transform my world
Your name was a divination awaiting the day
I’d first set eyes and hold you close to me
Then overwhelmed, poignant as the creator feels
Granting breath to microcosms of sand

You’d lie on my chest till finding your feet
Mumbled baby words right into my heart
The spirit deciphered the language you spoke
Of vivacious love where all life began
Starlight sparkled bright in your eyes
Joy cascaded in guileless smiles
Wonders of childhood, marvels and finds
Painted every moment with pure delight

That “O” of your lips when butterflies fled
Saucer eyes when frogs would leap
Squeals of glee “eating” the rain
Horrified boys “stood” answering nature’s calls
Tumbles and scrapes taught aches would heal
Tiny arms that wrapped the universe
Views on life that’d educate sages
Innocent wisdom has much to reveal

You were an unborn world within me
Since your arrival it became real
With this truth for the rest of my days
I’m a father you made child before man
Your presence reminds me of goodness in all
The sheer beauty of human nature
The potential for humility and pride at once
Yes! you are the best of what I am

wild pigs