No. 90: Cyprian Trilogy Part l, 1994

Londinium to Larnax
Caesars' castle burning
As angry Celts with semtex swords maraud
And make their getaway .
Still the mob not stirring
And as Rome falls
Unleashed are servant hounds
Snivelling to salvage pounds
And crumbs
Of a disembowelled
And dis-united King's land
Of schizophrenic pride
Foresaking friend and neighbour
Yielding to an Atlantic bellicose son.
So long Big Ben , King Arthur , Ken
For borders won't divide true brothers
Call me back just when , and if ever .

A Roman subject lost in space ,
A hybrid castaway
Deluded for want of grandeur .
A silver Argonaut of Alexandrian might
High in Angelic heavens .
Due eastward to Earth's centre :
Sea of seas .
From Londinium to Larnax , the road is heavy
And laden with uncertainties
With not much stuff of paper pocket-idols
To express some piety .

Aphrodite in all her beauty
She too , is insane .
She drinks Greek coffee
And dances with her belly
For Greek Sultans
And quotes the ancient Turkish Sophists .

The conquering Seljuk Turks
Three hundred Spartan Greeks
The Lion Hearted Red coats and .....
Diplomatic mercenaries
Each with eyeless grin , and arm outstretched ,
Salutes his multi- coloured ,
Blood-stained rag.

Yet despite her madness , her eyes are sparks
And when she smiles
The Earth , the Sky , the Sea and Winter Sun converge .
One's heart cannot escape but melt
Toward that Godless bliss
Of our own world's centre .

But amidst the jungle
Of her Man- made garden
Ares sleeps ....NO! please don't wake him .
For children , men and women
Died and suffered .
Yet still the vast island of copper lives .
The poor and hungry mortals passing through
Will make their claims
Then perish.
FOOLS!
This rock belongs to no one ,
IT threw you up.........
And in good time will suck you in .