Monday, December 25, 2006
No. 86: Reality, 2006
" We live in a world of appearances, where what appears to seem true ,is not equal to how the truth seems to appear '.
No. 87: The Whore, 1998
There was an old man from Lahore
Who married a beautiful whore
She bedded so many
He got more than a penny
As he smiled cap-in-hand at the door.
Who married a beautiful whore
She bedded so many
He got more than a penny
As he smiled cap-in-hand at the door.
No. 88: Silenced , 2006
Silence for those that fought and died for us in the Great War of 1914.......
Lest the war that was to end all wars were to happen again ,
Silence for those others who also died .....
From the opposing armies
They too were ......victims ?
A minute's silence for our heroes......
Every year
Silence .....
A minute's silence for the Second World War .
Silence for Viet Nam , Korea, Lebanon , Palestine , Cyprus ,Rwanda ,
Congo , Former Yugoslavia , Ireland ....Iraq...
Silence for OUR soldiers ,OUR civilians .......OUR dead
A minute's silence for the Tsunami victims
Every year .
Silence for the Madrid train bombings
Silence ........
Silence for the London Train and bus bombings
For one minute
Every year .
A minute's silence
A minute's silence for the death of George Best .....
Every year ?
Silence
A minute's silence every year for Fred who died of natural causes .
Every year
Something to be silent about every year , every month every week
Silence
A minute's silence for this world
Every hour , every minute .........
Silence for......
A minute's silence ....
And we shall never speak again.
Lest the war that was to end all wars were to happen again ,
Silence for those others who also died .....
From the opposing armies
They too were ......victims ?
A minute's silence for our heroes......
Every year
Silence .....
A minute's silence for the Second World War .
Silence for Viet Nam , Korea, Lebanon , Palestine , Cyprus ,Rwanda ,
Congo , Former Yugoslavia , Ireland ....Iraq...
Silence for OUR soldiers ,OUR civilians .......OUR dead
A minute's silence for the Tsunami victims
Every year .
Silence for the Madrid train bombings
Silence ........
Silence for the London Train and bus bombings
For one minute
Every year .
A minute's silence
A minute's silence for the death of George Best .....
Every year ?
Silence
A minute's silence every year for Fred who died of natural causes .
Every year
Something to be silent about every year , every month every week
Silence
A minute's silence for this world
Every hour , every minute .........
Silence for......
A minute's silence ....
And we shall never speak again.
No. 89: The Beast , 2006
Darkness , before dawn , alone with a beast
Surrounded by fencing trees , bushes ......darkness
The Beast's eyes , reflecting the moon light ,look toward me like a demon's .
It runs in my direction
I retreat , grabbing a twig I throw it in its direction
It stops and grabs the twig ; time .
I run , again , it runs toward me
As I turn my head to keep check of the beast ...
A rustling of Autumn leaves : Nothingness.
The Beast had gone , in shock I ran through an opening
Shouting , I ran through the fields
Further and further away from where it had all happened .
Still in panic , I ran and ran
Until again I found myself face to face with it..
Grabbed and leashed him and told him what a stupid dog he was .
Surrounded by fencing trees , bushes ......darkness
The Beast's eyes , reflecting the moon light ,look toward me like a demon's .
It runs in my direction
I retreat , grabbing a twig I throw it in its direction
It stops and grabs the twig ; time .
I run , again , it runs toward me
As I turn my head to keep check of the beast ...
A rustling of Autumn leaves : Nothingness.
The Beast had gone , in shock I ran through an opening
Shouting , I ran through the fields
Further and further away from where it had all happened .
Still in panic , I ran and ran
Until again I found myself face to face with it..
Grabbed and leashed him and told him what a stupid dog he was .
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 .
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 .
No. 91: Cyprian Trilogy Part ll, 1994
Interim
Living here......so sweet
The citrus trees welcome me as I walk the town
And what a town :so small , small enough to be a part of,
The mid-day winter sun's caress .
Nobody could deny my right to realise my dream.
To stare at glistening seas , contemplate a purple sky
And count the stars at night
Then in good time to gently wake and a earn a humble livelihood
To settle down; I'm making a life here .
Twice so far the fellow migrant swallows have greeted me ,since I've been living here .
The lizards at my feet , countless colours of wild flowers
The butterflies dance around a royal praying mantis , seated on a throne of leaf.
The blazing dragon flies; survivors : alive here.
The rugged hills , cacti and football-pitch valleys,the parched earth, red soil, land-
Mines , barbed wire, firing ranges
The invading flags , blue berets , post colonial garrisons,
National Guards....arms race
Hysteria , propaganda , confusion , slick orators,the mess.......
Living here?
How foolish it will all seem
When I come to , in a cold sweat .
Living here......so sweet
The citrus trees welcome me as I walk the town
And what a town :so small , small enough to be a part of,
The mid-day winter sun's caress .
Nobody could deny my right to realise my dream.
To stare at glistening seas , contemplate a purple sky
And count the stars at night
Then in good time to gently wake and a earn a humble livelihood
To settle down; I'm making a life here .
Twice so far the fellow migrant swallows have greeted me ,since I've been living here .
The lizards at my feet , countless colours of wild flowers
The butterflies dance around a royal praying mantis , seated on a throne of leaf.
The blazing dragon flies; survivors : alive here.
The rugged hills , cacti and football-pitch valleys,the parched earth, red soil, land-
Mines , barbed wire, firing ranges
The invading flags , blue berets , post colonial garrisons,
National Guards....arms race
Hysteria , propaganda , confusion , slick orators,the mess.......
Living here?
How foolish it will all seem
When I come to , in a cold sweat .
No. 92: Cyprian Trilogy Part lll, 1994
Ciao Zeno
Ciao Zeno! I searched for you in vain
I knew not when, my stoic strength would drain
You too, in shame would turn your head
To see that only on their coins you're read.
Android culture , Mitsibushi donkey-riders high
Men and women with self esteem ; as much as they can buy
Pompous pidgin English , Russian spoken too this season
Their only orthodox Christian ; a criminal accused of treason.
And so the wretched would-be painter seduced by sea and sun and sky
Is retreating , disillusioned with bloody nose and weary eye
His hungry paint brushes placed inside a tea chest , stiffen with complaint
Labouring hands for hire , a shipper's bill no time to paint.
Two years wasted , older, wiser, poorer, no right here to abberate
And little patience left for yet more generations taught to hate
Ciao Zeno ! I'm London bound, guess that's where I'm going to live then die
Inside a test tube where a whole small world lives beneath a wet and windy sky.
So I place the fragments of a broken dream within a carton
And watch my sunny hope subside
My only boon? The urge to come here gone
And one true friend: Experience , standing by my side.
Ciao Zeno! I searched for you in vain
I knew not when, my stoic strength would drain
You too, in shame would turn your head
To see that only on their coins you're read.
Android culture , Mitsibushi donkey-riders high
Men and women with self esteem ; as much as they can buy
Pompous pidgin English , Russian spoken too this season
Their only orthodox Christian ; a criminal accused of treason.
And so the wretched would-be painter seduced by sea and sun and sky
Is retreating , disillusioned with bloody nose and weary eye
His hungry paint brushes placed inside a tea chest , stiffen with complaint
Labouring hands for hire , a shipper's bill no time to paint.
Two years wasted , older, wiser, poorer, no right here to abberate
And little patience left for yet more generations taught to hate
Ciao Zeno ! I'm London bound, guess that's where I'm going to live then die
Inside a test tube where a whole small world lives beneath a wet and windy sky.
So I place the fragments of a broken dream within a carton
And watch my sunny hope subside
My only boon? The urge to come here gone
And one true friend: Experience , standing by my side.
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