No.19: Jack , 2008

There was an old man called Jack
Who walked with a chimp on his back

When asked why this was
He said just ;' because !

Curious people my friend likes to smack!'

No. 20, Mathematics Made Simple , 2008

When The mighty Empire of today is at war
Often on territory that it has invaded
It finds that its fighting men
Sorry and women too ,( lets not exlcude them
From fun that they could miss)
Are more equipped , better fed
Armed like giant Iron lobsters
Actions guided with high technology
The enemies have little chance
This is fair
In the name of democracy
The enemy can be at home
Even in larger numbers, yet the good
will prevail
A somewhat even symmetical warfare
Yet years go by and streets occupied
With barely a group of enemies in sight
'Mission accomplished!' but
It's happening more often
The devious 'insurgents' come from nowhere
Within our midst and cause havoc to larger numbers
One single roadside bomb an RPG ,incendiary
A human bomb explodes
Wipes out dozens of good men ,
It's all unjust
This is asymmetirical warfare!

No. 21: The Clubber , 2008

I luv clubbin' , me , I go out with me mates
Nufink to do all day , At night I look for dates

I love clubbin' It's all I fink of night 'n' day
look for a job? nah, not me, I like it dis way

Nah a bloke's gotta do sumink he loves init ?
And when I see a club like , just gotta go in it

I luv a drink , I pop a pill and take a smoke
Deep Inside me a passion it does provoke

Saturday night down the town me mates 'n' me
And We all love clubbin ' pity you can't see

City centre , noise , flashing lights : blue , he's red
And we won't stop clubbin' him until he' s dead !

No.22: A day In The Life Of A Dish Washer , 1982

Wakefulness intrudes my dream
As I drag my body to the platform

I decieve myself and say :
Living life from 5.30pm is okay

But clocks accelerate and push me
Into a cycle , alas ! I'm here again

Schools of fish beneath the surface
Underground ,I don;t see them ,I've joined their cloud

I won't go in today , I've lost my head
My heart turns my legs to another way

Tomorrow comes: I paid the price
Was told to leave , 'no good, get rid of him !'

Brief feeling of freedom , liberation !
Emptiness : got rid of them!

No.23: Love ,Home and Happiness, 1980

Home is where the heart is
Not where one's life is spent

I've got no home I've got no heart
Only package tours and cement

Love is: I know you know :
Its when you care

I loved I lost, it takes two
And I was the only one there

Happiness is all that I want
where shall I seek, and what will I find?

For filth has entered my eyes
And I'm growing quite blind.

No.24: Love, 1990

Francis had a burning desire: To understand love.He had come from a decent family , but parental love had its limitations .After all his parents could only love him as their child,and he he could not be acknowledged as an adult in his own right .Surely this was not love .

At the age of nineteen , Francis met Sally who was pretty and sweet .they fell in love and enjoyed being together constantly .So much did Francis love Sally ,that he feared he would lose her .He became intensely jealous and on rare occasions when Sally was away from his immediate sight ,Francis would fear the worst and often accused Sally of seeing other men, eventhough Sally would not dream of doing such a thing, for she loved only Francis .He often called her a strumpet and a whore , following this up by giving her regular beatings, frequently bruising her ribs and breaking her jaw.

One dark day after hearing that Sally had allowed a man into their home in his absence in order to have the gas meter read, Francis was devastated.In a fit of madness he attempted to strangle Sally .Luckily , Sally fought back bravely this time in order to hang onto life itself, and gasping for air she freed her self from his hold and fled, never to go near Francis again . Surely this was not love ?

At the tender age of twenty seven , Francis made a breakthrough on his quest. He had become acquainted with Marie-Angela , an educated and elegant young lady. They soon fell in love and spent many good times together . Their love was supreme, a total dedication to each other's needs based on a mutual respect for each other's independence . They stopped at nothing to make one an other's happiness.

Francis always remained faithful to their agreed ideals and often when Marie -Angela had made dates with other men , Francis would wait up for her in bed .On her arrival he would be happy , not only because they were reunited again but also due to the fact that she had enjoyed a satisfying night out with another man .

Years of contentment followed ,then one day Marie-Angela announced that she had decided to marry a man named Arthur. Hearing that , Francis was overjoyed and was even given the special honour of being the best man at the wedding .The wedding was a happy affair ,Francis cried tears of joy at seeing Marie-Angela happily married .

Marie-Angela and Arthur lived happily together and soon left the country ,and never saw Francis again. Surely this was not love ?

At thirty six years of age , Francis had overcome the folly of his youth and was mature enough to eventually enter into a lasting wedlock. Martha , his wife proved to be a fine woman and soon bore their first child who they named Martin .

It was that very day in the presence of his son's birth that love revealed itself. On seeing the beauty of the helplessness , innocence and purity of a newborn baby that his own loving expression had produced ,Francis experienced true knowledge of love.

He adored children and in good time Martha gave birth to another four babies .Years of domestic bliss passed by and when Martin had reached the age of twenty one , he revealed to his parents the fact that he was a homosexual.Francis now fifty nine years of age did not take kindly to this. In fact he was outraged. How could his son betray him like this ? what would other people say about Francis for having a homosexual son? His son had committed a grave act of betrayal .Francis seized his son by the collar and bashed Martin's head against the wall with all his might ,swearing at him and calling him a pervert and a filthy bugger.The rest of the family pleaded with Francis to let go and show some compassion, after all ,Martin was a nice a boy and would not wish to hurt a fly .But no , Francis would have none of this , he branded all the family traitors , he disowned them all and deserted them forever .Surely this was not Love?

Francis , now a sixty four year old man was alone at home seated in his armchair when love came and spoke to him :real love had come end entered his life .Seated in his armchair , he became aware of his previous ignorance with the realisation that only universal love mattered , all else was nonsense and illusion.He would love everybody and everything unconditionally and expect nothing in return .He became a true philanthropist and lover of all creation.

Francis gave away most of his belongings , he stopped eating meat and even vegetables , lest he would harm a single living thing.He spent many years spreading universal love by giving ,helping others and generally bestowing love upon all mankind and the entire cosmos .He joined voluntary groups and helped with charities , yes there was no end to the fulfilment he gained by knowing and living within an ocean of pure ,unadulterated love .

One evening ,whilst returning to his home , which was an improvised cardboard hut , as he often did after a hard day's deed of radiating his love in all directions , Francis noticed his reflection in a puddle of rain water . He saw an image of an
elderly , sick , frail , suffering man . He was physically and mentally drained , his own self neglect had caught up with him ;surely this was not love?

Francis , now withered and pale with age and sickness , reached his eighty second year .He was destitute and lived on the streets , literally from hand to mouth .Ironically in this final stage of life's journey , Francis was no longer concerned about anything but his own survival.He had learnt painfully what love was not , and no longer cared to discover what it was .

One day , whilst examining his day's catch of a trodden-on sandwich and a half empty can of warm ,stale beer ,Francis was approached by another vagrant ,who begged him for a sip of the beer . Francis gave him the whole can to keep. Not so much out of pity but because it had tasted to awful .

The following day , the same man slipped a piece of paper into Francis' hand . It was a bank cheque of £7000 000 .This man happened to be an eccentric millionaire .

Life changed again for Francis .He became very popular , especially with the the popular news papers and television stations.His story appeared everywhere. He became instantly recognisable to the general public he wrote his biography, had a chat show on Television and even made several pop records. He had millions of admirers now.He received sacks of fan mail and even letters from Sally , Marie-Angela,Martha and Martin .He was eventually given a medal by the queen and became a 'knight ' with letters after his name, regularly attending the second chamber of British Parliament .

Yes Francis became a celebrity , everybody loved him and he knew it and loved it . He also knew many more things :Even the fact that this was not really love did not bother him..

No.25: The Blue Building ,1989

At the tender age of forty six , Roy Marden recognised the fact that he had never really been happy .He had experienced moments of joy , he had been through periods
of relative contentment and reached states of momentary ecstasy .But never , he was honest enough to admit to himself ,was he near the midst of pure and unadulterated happiness . Yet the ticket he now held in his hand , purchased form Network South East's Silver Street Station , this was a step in the right direction .

He never believed that one's attainment of happiness came necessarily from one's employment , but this was different . He was heading for the town , and the town although only a small market town just outside of Greater London was a beautiful spot green and fresh , small enough to be noticed in and yet big enough to feel free in. He would be living in the town in his successfully appointed situation .He had previously worked in all sorts offices but this place really was special .He attended two interviews before he was informed by Tim Norton that his application had been successful .He had seen for himself , that in this establishment , within the boundaries of an exquisite town , he would be moving in the right direction , to eventual bliss. The people there were friendly , beyond the mask of convention .Some how more genuine .

As he boarded the train , a glimmering smile adorned his rugged features .Tim Norton will be expecting him in ninety minutes he pondered .Roy Marden had learnt to live simply .With him on his journey north of London , he had taken with him only one case .Only slightly larger than a brief case , and in this he carried everything he needed for his daily living needs .This is what he knew for sure ; that to be tied down with too many material possessions was one road that led to eventual unhappiness . For the past four years , Roy had been living in rented bed sitting accommodation , and prior to confirmation of his present appointment , had reluctantly owned a car .What a marvellous thing he thought , to do away with that vehicle in exchange for hard cash.He would have done it much sooner , had he realised the pleasure it gave to rid himself of such an obsolete form of transport in this age of extreme congestion of the roads . He would have no use for it in the town anyway . Everything was nearby and he felt quite strongly that he would rather not do much more travelling by road , especially in the direction of London . The accommodation arranged for him in the town was ideal .In fact he was damned pleased to see the back of the last building he lived in , not that it was squalid or anything like that ,for Roy Marden was a successful accountant by trade and always made sure that his arithmetic would not leave him hard done by . It was basically the idea of living in a bundle of small uninteresting towns all stuck together to form one heap of concrete called London that he loathed the most .

The train pulled out of another station and on looking at the map above where he was sitting ,he could see that he had already passed the half way mark of his journey .


Roy Marden had married young, not as young as some others he had seen in his time , but looking back , twenty two years of age was too young for himself to have married he believed . At the time he had been naive enough to be convinced that he was happy , and for many years enjoyed the fun and companionship of his wife Alice .When his child had been born , years of contentment followed . The years of contentment were followed by years of mediocrity and these in turn were followed by a few months of bitterness which were eventually laid to rest by one single day of disillusionment . He was too sincere a man to stay in a situation that held itself together purely by the merits of habit alone , and a bad habit for that matter . When at the age of thirty six , he finally came out with it and told Alice of his intentions, her initial protests and objections meant nothing and the fact that the whole thing ended amicably only helped to prove that deep down putting habit aside , Alice shared his view .He had not seen his son Eric, for over five years now .Eric must now be in his twenties he thought to himself .Twenty or so years ago Roy Marden couldn't even imagine living apart from his own little baby boy and even despised other parents that willingly did so . Yet Eric was a twelve year old when he was deserted by his father . A twelve year old with a very different character and outlook than his father's and one that his father didn't even care to think about very often .

Three More stops and he will have arrived . Roy was proud of his profession in accounts and always felt grateful to his own father the help and support he offered when encouraging him to enter the field . Although not a work addict , Roy Marden did attach a great deal of importance to his work especially after the break up of his marriage . He had seen a lot of life through his work and from auditing accounts of large motor-vehicle manufacturers to dealing with petty cash slips for scruffy building sub contractors , he had gained some Worthy experience in life and a degree of satisfaction . But not enough to be really happy . He loved numerical figures ,he had in a sense been fortunate enough to be in the profession of numbers .The digits that still carry with them the Pythagorean mystique . Anything could be done with figures , he himself, could be reduced for the purpose of national statistics to a
simple number .There were thousands of different figures in his body , indicating the various biological process , chemical levels and variety of functions within his own physical organism .He was definitely convinced by the magic of numerals , and although he could not grasp their every meaning,he would continue to try .

Roy Marden loved his profession and would rather give up work all together than change it . Up until now he had never had the opportunity to investigate the deeper and purer aspect of numbers in a place of work and this was precisely why this career move was so vital to his development .He will be in an occupation where he can examine every aspect of the meaning of figures and investigate how functions and calculations can change the very nature of themselves purely by applying the appropriate formula upon them . Roy Marden took in a long breath of enthusiasm , in
this place , in a cosy little town , these things that concerned him personally as well as professionally were to be his full time occupation . What more could he ask for ? This can only be seen as success.

The sun greeted Roy as he handed his ticket to the collector at the town station . The building was mere three minute's walk away from the train station .He felt a warm volcanic lava permeate his body as he approached the bright blue building .

Roy Marden glanced with awe at the Romanesque fountain in the courtyard before approaching the automated doors of the building.
"Good morning Mr Marden ". Smiled the receptionist .
"Good morning ".
"Tim Norton's expecting you ,go to the second floor , turn right and you should find him in the the third door down . It's number thirty seven ".
"Thanks Carol ,I'll see you around ". As he was making his way out of the lift in the direction he was instructed , he saw Tim Norton walking towards him . Tim Norton greeted him with a warm hand shake and reassuring smile .
"Hello Mr Marden ,it's nice to see , welcome . I'll be with you in a couple of minutes . I've got your place organised for you , it's the second door from the end , please excuse me for a sec and I'll be with you ." Tim Norton dashed out of sight through a large door . Roy Marden continued to walk in the direction of what was to be his new occupation . They had even nicely personalised everything for him : A sign on his office door with Roman hand painted text read : Roy Marden , BSC hons.He stood there staring at his new environment trying to take it all in calmly , as his heart pounded with joy. He looked through the corridor window at the outer surrounding trees whereby a river flowed . He smiled. He then dived onto his allocated bed before him , clutching the pillow as if to tear it apart , dug his heels repeatedly into the mattress as he spewed a bitter-sweet flurry of laughter and unintelligible ranting that echoed far beyond the end of the hospital ward. Doctor Norton rushed to his bedside and placing one hand on Roy Marden's shoulder began to murmur words of comfort , but all in vain for Dr Norton failed to recognise the primordial cry of happiness.

No.26: The Van, 2008

A van driver who lived in Sudan
He tried to make love to his van

The engine got stuck
Spun him round what a ****!

He now charges 10 dollars a man

No.27 : The Baboon , 2008

A young man there was in Rangoon
Who loved a female Baboon

He put his face in her bum
She thought he was dumb

And broke wind as she called him a goon

No.28 : The Sock, 2008

There was a poor man in Bangkok
For a condom he used an old sock

He starched it so well
His women would tell

That his weapon was harder than rock

No.29: the Guru Blues ,1990

My woman ,she left me , my hamster it died
They took away my house, I laid down and cried
But I'm not defeated , I know what I'll do
I'll go search for a Guru , and He'll find me too

I'm goin' to the Guru , that's what i'm gonna do
Cos my heart it is so heavy and my mind it's blue
I'm goin' to the Guru , that's what I'm gonna do
For this heart it is so heavy my mind it's blue

Well I travelled all the oceans ,I swam in the sea
I crossed desert , climbed mountains what did I see?
The Guru he was waitin' my soul became bright
Just lookin' at him was all peace, love and light

I'm goin' to the Guru , that's what i'm gonna do
Cos my heart it is so heavy and my mind it's blue
I'm goin' to the Guru , that's what I'm gonna do
For this heart it is so heavy my mind it's blue


I said :'teacher help me , cos I wanna be wise
For this body's been beaten by too many lies '
He said:'your eyes are made for listenin' now look with your ears
I'm gonna show you how to fight off all the tears!'


I'm goin' to the Guru , that's what i'm gonna do
Cos my heart it is so heavy and my mind it's blue
I'm goin' to the Guru , that's what I'm gonna do
For this heart it is so heavy my mind it's blue


Now the guru he drank whisky and blew a strange smoke
I said: 'Man! what is this some kind of joke? '
He left me next mornin' took all my clothes
I'm a born loser , that's just how life goes


I don't want no Guru what a crazy thing to do
Cos my heart it is still heavy and my mind it's blue
I don't want no Guru what a crazy thing to do
Cos my heart it is still heavy and my mind it's blue


Now I don't want nobody I'm a lonely machine
Who ever shared my sufferin' knows just what I mean
That Guru sent from heaven , he was no fool
I've taken up his leaf now and opened up my own school


I'm gonna be a Guru , that's what I'm gonna do
But my heart it's still heavy ,my mind's black and blue
I'm gonna be a Guru , that's what I'm gonna do
My heart it's still havy ,my mind's red,black and blue

No.30 : Daddy's Song , 1990

Babe when you look-me with those eyes
I know I mean so much to you
I know what's wrong and what is right
I've got the answer for everything that you do

Chorus

But you know I'm still a child myself
That wonders what the? how and why like you
Lost , There's no bigger daddy in the stars
Don't know where I'm goin'when I'm through


See the changing colour of the clouds
The birds making music in the trees
And all the poison headed people
More deadly than anything else can be


Boy , the world's insane believe me
For this is one thing that I know
The peace makers are imprisoned
And the tyrants run the show


I've got no stocks and shares to give you
What you mean to me can't be said or done
I know life's meaning is an ice cream
And that happiness means innocent fun

No.31: Sax Man, 1988

Little Bobby Cougah, they said :'He's good for nothin''
They fired him from his day job :Got no future comin''
But they didn't recognise it
For he had something goin'
Fools! They never had the mind to hear his saxaphone blowin'

Chorus
He's got the taxman runnin' when he's out moonlightin'
Spends his day time loafin' then he's a huffin' and a puffin'
He's really lovin' livin' now he's a happy soul
He's a rollin' and a rockin ' signin' on the dole


In the good times the sax it was a howlin'
When things were hard the two of 'em were growlin'
And Bobby never hit the big time
although he dreamed he would do someday
But life goes on and he 'signs right here' every other Monday

No.32: The Slythagor ,1983

So the slythagor hopped on a train
The thought lingered,it gnawed at his brain
To revisit that fiery cage
Where his last stand had ended in rage
As he approached, he was pelted by rain
And haunted at what it would feel like
To be there again
Since he had been there several years passed
He grieved at why time flew so fast
For he was no longer a slythagor
No longer funny or sly, merely a 'Gor'
He gave his ticket in at Fulham Broadway
to a man with a hat
He was a diploma student on a grant
Last time he did that
The streets of Fulham had not changed
And looked very much the same
Apart from a new shop or two
Or one that had just changed its name
As he came nearer to the old church
That had been converted to an art school
He felt eerily reminiscent of the countless
Times he had played the fool
He entered the deserted corridor
And stared at the notice board alone
Just as he used to , there at break times
When no one would talk to him
And he was left on his own
He proceeded tentatively
And descended a flight of stairs
Where he saw 'Joke' and 'Rubbin' conversing
He gave them his attention and awaited theirs
They persisted in chatting
But as one of them withdrew
He greeted Joke , who said simply 'Hello'
Not 'How are you ?' or 'How do you do?'
Gor , feeling speechless ,retreated
And went back to the corridor
He saw Rubbin ascending the stairs
He tried to make his mark once more :
'Hello Rubbin ' he said 'D'you remember me ?'
'Yes ' said Rubbin , 'Have you come for someone to see?'
Gor explained he was just back
To look and see what's going on around
Rubbin continued to head for upstairs
And the two ceased to exchange another sound
There he was, asking himself
why the hell he had returned?
Why did he come ? Who did he come to see?
Was this the reputation he had earned ?
He found no answer and hesitated for a while
There's no one upstairs that he was close with
To give him more than a plastic smile
So much for the visit he thought
As he made his way to the door
To see the place that expelled him
Having no time for a Slythagor
So back on the train again he found himself
Heading for whence he came
He is a Slythagor no more
His wings were cut three years ago
And now he is quite tame

No.33: Diary of a Non-Entity ,l (Extract from unfinished novel) 2006

This is my diary, I once read a book called 'Diary of a Nobody' , I thought at the time well if he's a nobody what the hell am I? I actually felt envious of the main character. I now think it's time to write my non-story ; Welcome to A Diary of a Nonentity .

10th April 2006

Hello , I thought I would give this a go, had a few glasses of wine , by myself and it seemed straight forward.
Well I'm Simon Penton, and what you are about to read is true .
I'm a thirty six year old English man . I live by myself , I'm shy ,not really that bad looking but I have never had a girl friend , neither have I ever kissed a girl. I feel so much better for writing this as sometimes when face to face with people I tend to lie about such things. I have never had much confidence ,although I was quite good at school, I never finished anything. I am jobless and on state benefits , have not worked for over fifteen years and yet I was never lazy , just not really able to impress.I know no trade, I have very few friends, My parents have moved to Spain and my sister jane has four kids and little time for me.I may be a little tipsy now and find things to say which when sober, I may regret , yet it's too late. I think I have to put these thoughts down. I will continue this diary whenever I feel the urge..until there's no more point in it. Welcome to the diary of a nonentity.

Welcome

No.34: Diary of a Non-Entity 2 ( Extract from unfinished novel ) 2006

This is my diary, I once read a book called 'Diary of a Nobody' , I thought at the time well if he's a nobody what the hell am I? I actually felt envious of the main character. I now think it's time to write my non-story ; Welcome to A Diary of a Nonentity .

11th April 2006
It's late , about 11.00 pm in London.I am alone in my bed sit ; a single room twelve feet by eight , I share a kitchen and bathroom with others. I will tell you about them in due course.
I guess it is not such a mystery why I have remained alone although I think I would rather share my life with somebody .
I got up early and went for a walk just as the world was beginning to set into motion , walked up to Edmonton's Fore Street ,pacing to a speed and rhythm of the general populace , trying to appear a busy body as if I was working or had something purposeful to do with my time. I bought a cornish pasty and a cheese pastry from a well known bakery that seems to have dominated every high street in London. It has a blue shop front I don't know what they put into their pies , probably rubbish it tastes good. The weather was cold ,but I was well covered in clothing, I walked at the same fast pace all the way home and ate my breakfast while it was still hot . I laid down , listened to a radio debate all about clothing stores :a little more boring than usual. I was taken by the female presenter's articulate and admirable tone.

I slept for an hour or so then decided to go to the corner shop to by my cigarettes. I promised my self I won't smoke the first one until it is at least 11'00a.m.

At the corner shop ; palpitations. This Indian woman, well I'm not sure if she is Indian , could be from Bangladesh or Pakistan, but she is so BEAUTIFUL , it hurts me..I buy my cigarettes , she always serves me with a smile and asks me how I am in a way that she really means it. She is married and has two sons that look in their late twenties . I sometimes even pretend to have forgotten something just to spend a few more minutes in her sublime presence.

This was the highlight of my day . The rest was a repeat of every other day.I cooked beans on toast read the Sun newspaper . slept in the afternoon and just started to reflect about my past . I feel that If write these things down about the past , present and ideas for the future I may at least......... goodness knows what . Well it's now 11.30 pm , I do have friends ,really, I am drinking my third glass of wine and smoking roughly my 15th cigarette these are my friends. Time to sleep and hear tonights radio phone-ins.

No.35: Diary of a Non-Entity 3 (Extract from unfinished novel ) 2006

This is my diary, I once read a book called 'Diary of a Nobody' , I thought at the time well if he's a nobody what the hell am I? I actually felt envious of the main character. I now think it's time to write my non-story ; Welcome to A Diary of a Nonentity .

15th April 2006

Today is just another day . Nothing to write about really. Yesterday was Good Friday.Nothing really happened yesterday either. The difference with yesterday was that I was aware of many other people not having to go to work .
Olga, lives directly next door to me. I noticed her mopping the landing as she kindly does on a regular basis. Otherwise this place would be a typical 'No man's land '.I mean the common areas of such shared accommodation often turn into a region that no one takes responsibility for ,and thus prone to look like something just inbetween a battle field. Olga is about forty years old, a refugee from Bosnia after that terrible war which resulted in the break up of what was Yugoslavia.
'Good morning Olga, no work today?'
' Good morning, no work , factory closed four days'Her English has improved over the years but I still talk to her in this pidgin English idiom that I have grown used to .
'You come for tea with me tonight Olga?'
'Maybe , you going nowhere?'
'No, I be in .You knock tonight.'I guess it sounds rather patronising , but I can't change this way of addressing her now. Olga has greying hair ,sharpish features and deep set green eyes , interrupted by very full lips and a well proportioned body. She often invites me for her traditional black coffee.It is very strong, full of sediment at the bottom of the cup and always served in tiny cups. When she first came to this building it must have been seven years ago.She used to wear very traditional Balkan clothing , a colourful head scarf and very baggy frocks and jumpers. Nowadays I see her in all types of western clothing and the scarf very rarely worn.
About four years ago Harry an old 'friend' of mine came over to see me, just as Olga was inviting me
for one of our regular coffee moments .He didn't believe that we have coffee together and nothing really happens.
'Wow! ' So that's what you get up to lately is it?'
' Yeah ' I nodded, I guess he realised that there was nothing going for me.'Shall we go then? , you should try her coffee it's really good.'We both went to her room.
'I'm Harry'. He introduced himself . Moments had
passed and the two were laughing and joking together as if acquainted over years. I noticed every so often reconnaissance palms from Harry sent out in all directions, touching Olga in the most neutral parts of her body. Harry joined me for coffee a few more times and eventually Olga and Harry were having an affair , leaving me to hear the 'ooohhhs!'and 'aaahhhs', the creaky bed and the occasional petty argument .
Harry gradually decreased the frequency of his visits until eventually he disappeared all together from Olga's life.
'Where is Harry ? ' she often remonstrated .'He does no love me....' I often gave her vague reassurances never stating the obvious , which she knew. Harry had returned to the security of his trusting wife and steered well clear of 93 Ploughman Road .
Something about Olga today made her more attractive than usual . She looked happy and sang to herself in her own language as she diligently mopped the landing.
At around 9.00pm Olga was knocking on my door. She entered with some home cooked biscuits all covered in sesame seeds. She was dressed in tight fitting white denim trousers and a blue T shirt as it was an exceptionally warm day after after the continuous coldness our spring has offered so far.We drank tea and ate her biscuits , talked about the weather , her work and the politics of our housing joint acommodat ion .i.e bemoaning the recent increase the landlord has announced. We continued with such trivia and I plucked the courage to attempt to be a little sexually more assertive. I had preset my CD player with some 'BeeGee'music which I remembered she had taken a liking to on a previous occasion.I gradually sent out feelers ,touching her shoulder then eventually her thigh . Olga laughed almost cynically and firmly clasped my wrist and moved it away . I persisted and then moved my lips close to hers and attempted to kiss her . Olga grabbed me by the shoulders almost like a mother preventing a baby from injury , held my shoulders at arms length,looked me sternly in the eyes and said: 'Simon ! stop it , you are friend and best neighbour , why you do this?' I giggled fatuously with embarrassment.I made one more tragic attempt of simultaneously stroking her breast and approaching her lips again . This time she dodged me and I almost headbutted the wall.
'Oh Simon ! NO....NO!' I felt like a disobedient canine.Olga then got up straightened herself,and with an air of dignity walked to the door .Smiling but firmly she told me .'Simon! , you are friend; friend only , do you understand?'As she proceeded to leave the room , I actually apologised for my behaviour , I don't know why because I was angry with her and myself , I felt that I deserved an apology really but that's what I did.
'OK , sorry .' again like a fool I heard myself.'Will you still invite me for coffee another day now?' I pleaded.
'Of course , but friends only OK!' She demanded .I felt as if she had me against the wall and that I had
to sign a legal document preventing me from ever doing such an audacious thing again,That I would have to make this concession before she let me go.
'Yes, only .....friends'. I failed. Olga left the room after one of my very rare moments of passion. I made another cup of tea. For an hour or so wallowed in my self pity ; how enjoyable self pity can be sometimes. I happily concede that the world will not feel sorry for me , I won't accept this :I will give my self the pleasure or duty of feeling sorry for myself.......After an hour and a bit, I reached for my bedside cabinet and grabbed a copy of 'The Dazzler' I looked at various naked bodies in contrived , self conscious postures.I then put it away , the presence of a real woman was still alive in my room , even the scent . I proceeded to pleasure myself with vivid images of my own creation ,...of what could have happened with Olga....

Today is just another day for me and Friday wasn't particularly 'Good',

No.36: Diary of a Non-Entity 4 (Extract from unfinished novel) 2006

This is my diary, I once read a book called 'Diary of a Nobody' , I thought at the time well if he's a nobody what the hell am I? I actually felt envious of the main character. I now think it's time to write my non-story ; Welcome to A Diary of a Nonentity .


17th April 2006

Got up late today .11.0a.m . I had a shower ,got dressed and made cheese on toast for breakfast or more like a brunch considering the time. I looked around at my room and had a sudden urge to tidy up and clean the room , but after a few seconds decided I would not.
I went to the local corner shop .I feared it would be shut but no , it was open. To my dismay one of the sons was serving .
‘Good morning sir’.
‘Good morning , 20 Malignez please’. I caught a glimpse of her , the mother was in the back room counting goods and putting them away . I fell into a stupor as I discreetly focused upon her. She looked so good in jeans and a baggy jumper.
‘Are you enjoying your Easter?’.
‘ Yes , I will be seeing relatives and friends later .’ Not that I was , but it was something to say . I continued to procrastinate as I descended deeper and deeper into an ecstatic make believe world..Only to be woken up.
‘Hello Sir , how are you?’ The husband came to the front of the shop and seemed to be saying , contrary to his spoken words; ‘And how much longer do you intend to leer at my wife today?’
‘I’m fine thanks, see you around’. I left the shop .
If only in some other parallel universe or under a magic spell performed by a real witch . If only I could just be with her and melt into those eyes and be received with that immortal smile…she is a true Indian Goddess. I sometimes think she takes pleasure in the power she has over me .I can tell by the way she looks at me .
I wake up again and walk toward the local park .Full of people of all backgrounds, dogs, children all running around , the smell of barbecue and sound of chatter in so many languages. .….If only I could be a part of this , yet I am like the air.
After a while I found an empty bench. I placed myself down and observed all around many people enjoying the novelty of a sunny day which has not been seen here for a good while now. This was a true spring’s day.
After about twenty minutes I was just about to get up when three youths all dressed in light blue hooded jackets and baggy jeans sat next to me . One on my left and the others on my right . I refrained from leaving immediately as this would have somehow felt wrong ; I may have offended them or may have looked more scared than I wanted to appear , which in turn could have provoked the worst outcome.
I sat in between the three who spoke in a drawl I could not understand , but faintly recognised that it was English based. They continued to talk over me in this manner until the one on the left produced a large hand rolled cigarette from his pocket.
He asked me for a light . I gave him my match box ,the spliff was lit and the three continued to share this cannabis joint, smoking and giggling , talking what sounded like gibberish and looking in my direction making me feel like an object of curiosity .
‘Wanna puff bruv?’ I was made an offer , I refused as the one on my left who offered shrugged and the others giggled . I let them have a few more puffs and moved on .
I did feel a little intimidated but guess they were just young men without any maleficent intentions, on this occasion.

I walked around the park, continued onto the high street , What a difference on a bank holiday . The traffic was thick with groups of people all coming back from excursions , possibly to the sea or countryside.
.By the time I got back it was 7.30pm.I had another shower then reviewed my day . I lied down on the sofa and wept for half a minute or so .Feeling for a moment , after thinking of all the life I saw outside: how unconnected I was with all of them.
I snapped out of it quickly, prepared myself two chunky toasted corned beef sandwiches , opened a bottle of red wine and switched on the radio which was tuned into Radio Melody.
After several hours of listening to bland middle- of -the road music and having finished the bottle , I opened another , poured out a glass , recorked the bottle , put it away and had the last drink and last cigarette by 11.25.pm.
I then made sure the ash tray was not smouldering checked the door and windows ,bolted them and went off to bed ,not bothering to brush my teeth. It was a good day , I feel happy right now , I burped and dozed off . A normal day awaits me tomorrow .

No.37: Diary of a Non-Entity 5 ( Extract from unfinished novel) , 2006

This is my diary, I once read a book called 'Diary of a Nobody' , I thought at the time well if he's a nobody what the hell am I? I actually felt envious of the main character. I now think it's time to write my non-story ; Welcome to A Diary of a Nonentity .

18th April 2006

Today I got up really early. I didn’t even sleep properly last night , I had strange dreams almost as if I was in a state of semi consciousness. I was up and dressed by 7.30am I even heard the man above me go off to work . I don’t know his name , but I will refer to him as Ivan from now on . Ivan appears to be from Poland . He could even be a Russian or Albanian for all I know . I feel confident to state that he is ‘Eastern European’ . The language sounds somewhat Slavic in its form. Not that I know anything about these languages just that I have been around long enough to make some connections.

Anyhow, Ivan has been living directly above the room I occupy for at least the last six months. This morning an old volvo estate van pulled up .This seems to be some kind of work transport or trades gang. As soon as it pulled up the driver surrounded by at least another seven or eight other burly figures of similar racial complexion and cultural behaviour , blew his horn several times very loud too . I would like to shout to him to shut up and get out of the vehicle and use his finger and press the door bell . But I dare not in case I elicit an aggressive response. Ivan came rushing down to join them.

So Ivan and his gang of what look like builders have all gone out to make some money. They must be builders . Ivan is often seen carrying bits of wood and holding various power tools, whereas his friends have been seen to be covered from head to toe in plaster or cement. This group of loud and rowdy looking Poles seem to have come to London with a vengeance. They seem to have a hunger for work. I guess it is the new European Union’s rules of engagement Others would call this another example of the government inviting foreign tradesmen to come to the country in order to keep the local complacent builders on their toes and prevent them form demanding interstellar prices for botched up work.

I see many of these people , just like Ivan around this area either going to work or returning . I have often seen them shopping with some kind of excitement when seeing the prices in London supermarkets which I believe are extremely cheap compared to those of countries cursed by the former Stalinist regimes .So Ivan and his gang have gone to work .I don’t have anything against these new guest workers or immigrant settlers , whatever they happen to be .

One night a few weeks ago I remember seeing Ivan bring back two women of his own nationality and a male friend..This was a Friday night . I happened to be coming back myself from a drink in one of the local pubs. These Polish women were gorgeous , tall , fit , blond and self assured . And I could hear the whole scenario. Not that I can understand Polish but what went on was more the language of love. Not much was left to the imagination although I could see nothing I could feel my ceiling shaking . I wonder what it must feel like to be a successful predator and win at bringing a willing woman home to have ……… wild sex. Some people get all the luck.

After Ivan had gone I stayed at my window watching the world go by . I saw Olga leaving for the dress factory , She has really become more fashion conscious and adjusted to this way of life.
All have gone from this building except Francis and myself . Francis is a seventy two year old retired bachelor . I wonder whether he is retired from the world , from work or from himself, considering the amount of years he has been alone. I have, on a few occasions had a drink in the pub with him and will say more about him on other occasions..

I visited the corner shop at 10.00.a.m. I planned it this way and wow! She was there. I blushed as I pretended to look at various headlines as if I was trying to make my mind up about which paper to buy.
‘Good morning Sir ‘
‘Good morning’ ,I replied as she attacked me again with that penetrating smile. I eventually picked up the Daily Mail; I hate this paper but just felt I had been over doing my browsing. I chose a chocolate .
‘85 pence please’ I fumbled pathetically as I tried to gather the right amount of money from my wallet .
‘Thank you ‘ with a smile of sympathy on her face.
‘Thanks , bye’ I left the shop and wondered what else could I do to match that for the rest of the day?
Well guess what ? I returned home by 12.00 md had some frankfurters with soft rolls and mustard then had a nap until 3.00pm.
I did n’t leave the flat again today . I noticed Ivan returning by 5.15 pm . I thought to myself it’s time I found a job . I wonder if Ivan’s gang would want me?
I put on the radio and listened to various classical stations until I was sickened by the frantic pace of some pieces then switched it off. I ate again at 8.10pm , the scraps of my previous meal together with a tin of okra .

9.30pm. onwards :Watched TV passively mindlessly , thinking it’s time I did something other than just exist and fantasise about real living. I wept again briefly , it’s happening more and more often , I don’t know if it is the fact that I have committed this non-event that is my life to paper …..but it has shown me that my life is even more meaningless than I had previously imagined.
I had no wine to drink tonight . I made a cup of hot chocolate , smoked my last cigarette ;the two went well together .I brushed my teeth and made my self happy thinking : ‘It’s pay day tomorrow!’ I will receive my- two weekly dole cheque.

I listened to the pompous radio phone in presenter, in his element debating a topical issue of the day and thought: 'He is the opposite of me , he likes the sound of his own voice and proud of his opinionated ,often ill-informed platitudes . Whereas I don’t even like to be noticed . He is successful , I am a failure ; The Bastard!.'
Tomorrow is a special day . I slept on this happy note.

No. 38 Diary of a Non-Entity 6 (Extract from unfinished novel :) 2006

This is my diary, I once read a book called 'Diary of a Nobody' , I thought at the time well if he's a nobody what the hell am I? I actually felt envious of the main character. I now think it's time to write my non-story ; Welcome to A Diary of a Nonentity .

19th April 2006
What did I do today ? Nothing much, I did walk into the local job centre and looked at some adds for vacancies . I was attracted to a vacancy for warehouse assistant, but when I approached the clerk or 'careers advisor' she told me the company was looking for someone with working knowledge of building materials and would be testing candidates for such knowledge. Well I did say I had a 'common sense knowledge' of such things but apparently this was not good enough.

I returned to base by 11.30 a.m. I was exhausted by the sheer effort of looking for work. I had moments of excitement as I picked various possible jobs the outcome was negative.

I made two veggie burgers with chips and dozed off by 1.00 PM.
When I awoke at 3.00 P.M I had a frightening thought of what am I going to do for the rest of this day?

I fooled myself by running through a list of usual activities ; read the newspaper , listen to various radio station programmes ,
tidy the flat ......rubbish , all were meaningless.I began to pace around the room in a temper then walked out into the street.

I wandered around the park observing life; animal life human life plant life anything but my own non-life.....maybe I should stop living , that is what I really need to do , but I am too cowardly and have settled for the cigarette ,wine and fatty food option.

I returned to the flat by 6.00 PM. The 'weepy' feeling had left me by now as I was seated moping , reflecting ; A knock at my door .
'You want coffee?' I was so glad that Olga had thought of me.
'Yes Olga , I would love to.' In Olga's flat whilst drinking her coffee and talking everyday meaningless conversation , I could not help thinking of my previous ,wild and hopeless attempt of seducing her .Never again ,just don't know how to do it .
I enjoyed her company as 'friends only ' then retired to my flat by
8.00.PM.

Restless , I ran on the spot , did some push ups , had more veggie burgers and chips with beans . The dark cloud had gone . I felt happy doing nothing and passively watching silly TV programmes.
Slept by 11.30PM. An average day.

No.39 :Diary of a Non -Entity 7 (Extract from unfinished novel) , 2006

This is my diary, I once read a book called 'Diary of a Nobody' , I thought at the time well if he's a nobody what the hell am I? I actually felt envious of the main character. I now think it's time to write my non-story ; Welcome to A Diary of a Nonentity .


10th April 2006
The weather was beginning to change as Spring gradually makes itself felt . The flat is empty of all residents even Francis who is much older than me seems to spend more time out enjoying himself than I do .
I wonder if finding work would be the answer to my problems . If I got a job I may be better off and I could leave this bed sitting room and maybe even get a council flat . what an ambition to have ? I suppose if I were to be really successful I could even buy a small flat , with my own bathroom and kitchen . I Imagine what that would be like: getting up on a Sunday after a hard working week and going into the bathroom knowing that no one else could be using it and also lazing around in the bath without the fear that somebody else may need to use it .A bathroom and kitchen of my own . These are the reasons I must make an effort to find a job . I don’t care what job I do .I will do it .

After having a bowl of porridge , marmalade toast and a coffee, I walked to Edmonton’s high street. It was at least a ten minute walk , such was my resolve it was more of a march . A march to liberty , freedom and equality . I hurriedly entered the Job Centre . I looked at the available vacancies for the day . After discarding anything requiring skill such as carpentry , motor vehicle maintenance etc I was left with some posts involving production line work. I actually walked out of there with an interview arranged for some time next week, exhilarated, I made my way home thinking of all the changes I was going to make in my life once I establish myself as a ‘machine operative ‘..I can’t wait …

I walked home at a leisurely pace , enjoying the sunshine and thinking that this summer I will be happy and maybe I will even have a short holiday in Mallorca to visit my parents .
Eventually ,I got to the corner shop : She was there again ,in the back , I could barely catch a glimpse , she was on the phone talking in an Indian language , Punjabi, hindi , Bengali or any of a great number of languages originating from the Indian sub continent. Trying not to stare, I bought my cigarettes from her husband and returned home. The radio had been left on I tuned into a heated debate about terrorism and the Iraq war, so many people have various thoughts and strongly held beliefs about this subject , yet the government seems to carry on regardless , waging a war of occupation in a far away land for reasons that seem to be tenuous to say the least. One caller, an ex -soldier himself accused the present Government ruled by Tony Blair, of deploying the armed forces as mercenaries .

I sat down with pen and paper , switched the radio on to Club Asia , listening to the manic presenter raving about the next number as I figured my potential earnings……… If my earnings after tax will be at least £ 125 per week , then I would have to pay my rent of which is now £75( but paid on my behalf by the local council). I will need at least £50 per week for train fares as this job is in Waltham Cross. That would leave me err……..nothing to pay for food , clothing bills , not to mention a bottle of wine and smokes ………..I cannot go through with this , it will mean economic suicide. I cannot jeopardise my freedom for becoming a worker with paradoxically less money as well as less time. I chose my freedom. But all the previous excitement of the moment has gone and left me in a void……….Its only 11.30 a.m I feel totally blank and numb.

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No.40: Diary of a Non Entity 8 (Extract from unfinished novel) 2006

This is my diary, I once read a book called 'Diary of a Nobody' , I thought at the time well if he's a nobody what the hell am I? I actually felt envious of the main character. I now think it's time to write my non-story ; Welcome to A Diary of a Nonentity .

22nd April 2006

I lay on the sofa , in a daze I felt a frustration deep within my bones and a lethargy creeping into the brain. As I continued to mourn my loss of a non -job, my numbness was interrupted by a ring at the doorbell. I jumped , wondering who the hell could that be ?
As I cautiously opened the front door , I was shocked ; before me ,it was HER , the Indian beauty was at my doorstep holding a wallet.
‘Hello Sir , you dropped this in our shop.’ She handed me the wallet with a piercing ,telepathic smile.
‘Errr, thank you so much!’ I didn’t even realise that I had lost it! I was still in shock.
“ Please come in for a moment" I asked , wondering how did she even know where I lived. She proceeded to enter the passage and followed me into my room”.I was surprised at how much smaller she appeared now that she was right next to me .This only increased the awe that she filled me with . I shakily offered her a cup of tea.
I even told her I use tea massalla if she preferred it that way..
“OK , I’ll have some “ . she smiled. I could not believe this was happening and would not even imagine what was to follow. We drank tea and she told me I was one of the best customers that visited the shop , she asked me my name……as I told her she touched my hand with hers .
‘Simon........,’ she said, as her smile faded into a more sinister glare. she casually pulled off her jumper.Her long shiny hair sprang into my face. She then unfastened her bra and let if fall onto the floor.I stared at her weathered, slightly drooping , but genuiniely attractive and naturally shaped breasts . In an instant I was comparing the the real experience before me with the thousands of synthetic polymer versions I had become used to viewing
over many years of relying on mens magazines; the real thing was so much more horny. The Indian beauty then said ‘come closer ..’as she resumed her piercing smile.. and her lips approached mine and slid all over them, locking them into a succulent ,wobbly seal .I felt the Kundalini explode within me, as a serpent vibrated within the core of my being . This could not be happening ..Yet it was , I was being transformed . Nothing would be the same again ,after a sexual awakening of this magnitude. It was timeless , without beginning or end, I surrendered to her higher power in every way . I was totally passive apart for my instinctive lunge toward her breast with my left hand. I caressed her erect nipple ……
…..and it was over in seconds.

I now needed a wash , I quickly dressed in order to enter the common passage of the building .I opened my door and peered over to see if the bathroom was free…....shit! It’s that damned old git Francis ,he takes ages to expel a number two and it takes even longer for the air to clear afterwards. I had to get back into my room. I managed to wash my self by half -climbing into the small hand washing basin in the corner of the room. I changed clothes then sat back in the sofa again . I looked at my bedside cabinet staring at the wallet upon its surface , which I never lost .And how would she know where I live ? She probably doesn’t even know of my existence.

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No.41: Diary of a Non-Entity 9 (Extract from unfinished novel) 2006 .

This is my diary, I once read a book called 'Diary of a Nobody' , I thought at the time well if he's a nobody what the hell am I? I actually felt envious of the main character. I now think it's time to write my non-story ; Welcome to A Diary of a Nonentity .
7th May 2006
I stayed in my room , it was a bright sunny day . The light was streaming into my room and , hidden within this contrast,I dug in , positioned my self discreetly and viewed various women who passed by in the street opposite my window.
Or,better still,who were stationary for several minutes . The summer clothing or lack of it was stunning. Especially the hipsters which are my favourites. . It was earth shattering……….After finishing what I had done during the session of voyeurism I wondered , what if I had been apprehended in this compromising position? What would an unsuspecting women think? I feel that I am not visible peeping through a crack of a net curtain in a room with no lighting staring out at a brightly lit day.

But what if I were noticed? I would be devastated ….. A look of a woman angry , disturbed , indignant at realising she has been scrutinised by someone , hiding and taking sexual gratification without permission. I imagined the worse possible scenarios: Her bringing her boyfriend or husband to batter me , groups of police taking me away with my head covered like a shamed criminal……the thought became more harrowing and finally ended with a bizarre image of an old monster horror film where the freak such as Frankenstein’s monster or whoever the main anti hero was, gets ambushed and caught by hundreds of angry villagers carrying torches.
.
I suppose I wouldn’t like it if I was a woman and I had secretly been watched in this manner ….I must stop this disgusting habit, I can and I will.

I had a late breakfast and big enough to do for my lunch . This was at 12.15 pm, I really must try harder to find a job , may give me a chance to meet more people or whatever .

I went for a walk avoided the corner shop and returned by 2.00pm , tired and exhausted by the mileage. I had only walked up and down the high street and in the local park , unnoticed and not bothered by anyone . This itself began to bother me ….I did not dwell on it too much.

Now being so tired , I lay in front of the television and dozed : If I were religious and could describe to you what heaven is , it would be this:The eternal feeling of being at the borders of consciousness and unconsciousness as I was experiencing now dozing , waking and falling again into bliss.

I fully regained consciousness did some tidying up .After having my supper it was still light , I caught a glimpse of a middle aged lady , chatting outside a neighbour’s
house. I have seen her before , she is of mixed race, tall, taller than me but of such firm proportions almost athletic . She wore a green, flimsy T shirt and very tight jeans. Her belly protruded slightly but was of such elegant form.

Feeling somewhat guilty , I proceeded to do the same again ………I eventually tired and after a few glasses of white wine , dozed off again , dreaming of having a real life .

No .42: Diary of a Non -Entity 10 (Extract from unfinished novel), 2006

Diary of a Non- entity
This is my diary, I once read a book called 'Diary of a Nobody' , I thought at the time well if he's a nobody what the hell am I? I actually felt envious of the main character. I now think it's time to write my non-story ; Welcome to A Diary of a Nonentity .


13th May 2006
I am not religious , neither am I superstitious in the traditional sense , that is , I don’t think the fact that it is 13thMay today has any connection with the fact that I had a strange dream that I was dead last night ..

I had died and do not recall under what circumstances. I was there in my parents’ home walking about and observing them as they appeared in a quiet , composed but grieving state. I was fully conscious and wondering about my strange predicament . I wasn’t happy or sad , just surprised and almost satisfied that I had found something out . I was fully conscious and surrounded by closest family. Eric and Barbara Penton , my parents as well as Jane ,my sister, her husband Ned and their four children .
I don’t know if I was visible or audible but remember clearly speaking to my mother and explaining : ‘Look it’s okay , there’s no difference , I ‘m here just like before and can still talk to you’…I do remember clearly seeing my deceased grandfather James Penton , talking to me with enthusiasm and almost preparing me for my new ‘life’.
Or non life.
So there was no difference , I thought to myself , life just seems to go on …….It’s not
what I expected……..I remembered thinking ‘So this is death …….’ I also recall seeing my coffin in my old bedroom , in the house that I grew up in , and which my parents still lived in before they sold up and emigrated to Spain .The place where I had spent my difficult teenage years that were full of angst. I caught a glimpse of Jane .tearfully complaining to herself:‘who could believe that this would happen to him at this age…..’This unnerved me somewhat as I continued to walk about the house and interact with others.
As in many dreams the surreal logic defied any contradiction as I continued to be conscious, interacting with others and at the same time joining them almost as a guest as they prepared to take me for my final drive home down to earth .

I remembered thinking death is not like the Philosopher Schoppenhauer said:“A blissful repose of nothingness”….No this was being as against non being I felt happy that I was with my loved ones and at the same time cheated of something eternal ….

I woke up and reflected on my dream wondering about it’s absurdity . I am alive but wonder why I had such a dream , maybe it was because I read somewhere on the internet that a famous musician whose name I cannot recall had just died recently and he happened to be thirty six. Maybe this made me acutely aware of my mortal coil .

I am living non entity . . I continue to exist after such a lapse into unconsciousness and period of dreaming . This period of dreaming , I thought to myself is normally preceded or followed by periods of deeper unconsciousness . I wondered to myself that only this period of sleep when one is totally unaware of anything, this must be the state near to death, yet we experience this or think we do again and again .Only when we awake do we realise this but only from the perspective of being fully conscious.
Is it appropriate I asked my self, or rational to contemplate or analyse the state of non being from one of being? ………I….continued to follow the thread of this ontological conundrum until my stomach put a halt to it.

I t was 11.30 a.m …I got up ,checked that the bathroom was clear ,it was , I had a quick shower . I could hear Ivan from upstairs ,singing to himself as he walked down the stairs .He left the building slamming the door behind him .

I ate the left over a chocolate gateaux for breakfast, two rather large portions. I made my self a large mug of real coffee for a change and peered through the window as I sipped my drink.
The window was open and the sun had made one of his cherished visits . I could hear a bird of some sort with a lively , optimistic song.
It was very close , although I could not see it . I wished it could come so close and make itself at home inside my bedsitting room. I realised that I was alive , I had a moment of elation , if anything this dream had made me appreciate this.

But what am I going to do for the rest of this day ? I don’t know , the same goes for the rest of this life. .which goes on .

No.43:Exploitation ,1986

The exploitation of the many
by the few
Will remain
For as long
As the many
strive to become part of the few

No.44: The Slave ,1986

I went to the market to buy me a slave
The salesman showed me his goods
There was a mason a poet and woman who made baskets
And an old man with a beard and a staff
I said to this old man :
'Slave what do you do?'
He replied: 'I am a leader of men!
would you like to purchase a master?'
'I buy it !' I cried
And parted with three pieces of silver
When we arrived at my dwelling
He made me scrub the floor
He taught me the arts, politics ,science ,philosophy
And gymnastics
One day we returned to the slave store as equals
We bought the whole lot ,imprisoned the vendor
And together we all headed for Rome .

No.45: Dolphin , 1986

When all has been said and done
You ask yourself: where are you taking your bum ?
Would life be easier if you had remained in your bed?
And dreamt that you where a dolphin?
That dreamt it was a man?
Jumped on a bus to get to the train and behold !
Ten thousand humans all doing the same
You get to the office somewhat confused
The boss shows you the door and you grin
Break his windows by tail and his jaw with your fin
Now free from bondage , it heads for the sea
Now doubts for this creature
It knows all that need be is to be.

No.46 : Don't Look At Me Don't Stare , 1980

Dont' look at me don't stare
For I'm beginning to be aware
Don't ask me why I am so quiet
For this type of talk , I just don't care

So leave me in my solitude
Come on stop it now don't be rude
I've spoken my words and that's your lot
I'm sorry if I've left you somehwat confused

But now I've become a laughing matter
Fools, you don't accept me if I refuse to natter
That's done it , I'm leaving to resume my drift
And you can continue your endless chatter .

No.47: A Form Of Love ,1986

I love you I adore you
I worship you my dear
I melt inside and turn in your direction
Like a magnet when You're near .
You are 'The all and everything '
Without you I am incomplete.
Your smile and glance upon me
Is ecstasy: a rare magician's feat .
I want you by my side
Every single minute of the day
And every second too ,never for a
Single moment move an inch away .
Don't ever touch another woman
with your eyes , you know it burns my heart
Nor even dare breathe a single thought
That I can't share in, or take part.
Most of all don't abandon me
For then this kind heart will grow cold
I will slay you like a beast and our romance
will remain a story a widow once told
I love you darling , sweet one
Like the trees yearn for the sun
My passion for you is eternal so understand
It , .......I am your only one!

No. 48: May Sarkis , 1982

I saw you in my dream today
I recognised you straight away

It's been over three years now
If only fate would bring me to you path somehow

But even in my wildest dream
You turned down my invitation it seems

I'm a loser , one that runs in every race
What are you doing now? where lies your favourite place?

If I knew I would find you but what would you say ?
Not much I think , but good luck May

No.49: Roman Sonnet ,1986

I arrived a pilgrim in the heart of Rome
Left my headaches back in Britain
Then by a Roman Love bite here I was bitten
If only the Borghese Villa were mine to own
A residential Palace bound by walls within
Paintings on ceilings and fountains so pretty
All enclosed in a modern thriving city
I would close all my gates to shut out the din
But alas! inside a curveless hotel room
My bill has set upon me like a lion from the Coliseum
For a doomed Christian , thumbs down ,you can see'em
How can I make an exit on a witches flying broom ?
Then when I have picked my self up from the floor
I would say Ciao! to the statues and come back for more!

No. 50 : murder , 1987

I murdered a man some time ago
And now , It's time for judgement

A man as ancient as the wind
Banged his hammer twice and said :

'You have killed a man in cold blood
The law does not tolerate this! man
Must not take the life of his fellow!'

He then sentenced me to be hanged
By the neck until I was dead .

No. 51: The Fly , 1989

The fly on the wall it came in for tea
Then left to have supper with me
It heard curses and threats aimed at people you love
And saw a face you let nobody see

It heard you talk of nothing at all
And bang your head against the wall
It saw you remove all your clothes one by one
As the room grew larger and you in comparison small

It flew through my window at eight
No strangers were me and my mate
You stood me up and thought I would remain alone
But no ; I have found me a gossiping date !

No. 52: The Man From Hong Kong, 1989

There was an old man from Hong Kong
Whose P**** was ever so long

He used it for loving
For kicking and shoving

And for fishing and sailing along

No.53: Maltese Daughter , 1989

There was an old woman from Malta
Who had an incredible daughter

Her head it span round
She made a weird sound

And her arm, it grew longer and shorter

No.54: Banana Boat Blues , 1992

I wake up every morning at quarter past five
I feel like I'm dead but I know i'm alive

I came here from overseas to make me some good
I've got me some blisters and a heart turned to wood

Well I'm goin' back where I came from ,got nothin' to lose
The streets are paved with gold but I've got holes in my shoes

Oh I'm sailin' on in the mornin' I got the banana boat blues
Oh I'm sailin' on in the mornin' I got the banana boat blues ...

No.55, The Mean Man , 1989

There once was a man so mean
He hated everybody he'd seen

One day he got bashed on the head
And decided to be kinder instead

No.56: Animals ,2007

I can live without eating them, and so can they .

No. 57: The Mouse , 2009

One day a hard working and decent mouse
Moved ,with his family , into a new house

Only to find traps and poison in every place
He lay dying in agony and cursed the human race.

No.58: Reflections on a painting by M.Rossi : ' In The Artist's Studio '.1987 .

She sits there on a stool
A child too young to contemplate

But is she merely sucking thumb ?
Or pondering an uncertain fate ?

An orange cluchted in hand she fails
To venture confrontation with her eyes

Against the wall behind her
Face down, a sleeping canvas lies

The eyes that saw her then
Say more than words will ever

But only time knows what the girl
On the stool in her life will endeavour

No.59: Make-Believe, 1990

I live in a world of make -believe

I believe what I have made

And make what I believe

One thing though I can't believe :

Is how happy I am in my world

Of make- believe

No. 60: The Book Of Barabbas ,1996

A blind and bitter , twisted fool was I
To riot , murder ,and then come here to die

Aimless , with no known cause and scant integrity
I killed for several shekels to fund my insobriety

Yet in my darkest hour , before a grisly grave of wood
Behold! A lesser fool with bleeding ,thorny crown there stood

His crime ? Delusions , proclaimed himself a king
Though he helped the needy : harmed not a living thing

Have I become delerious ? The mob chants for my release instead
Buffoons ! They want to see that Galilean dead!

Freed! By all the God-damned powers that be , or may not be
Allowed to roam again ,mustn't hesitate , now go man ,flee!

Curious though , I turn my head , for a final glance just one
The wretched would -be regent breathes his last and :'It is done'.

And what is done ?My hideous crimes they wish to vindicate
Confused and inspired , a prophecy , I scratch upon my slate:

Golden cast ,his corpse ,displayed upon their chests , glorifies his name
They come forth to do evil I've not done and still they know not shame .

No.61: Harmonica ,1989.

What a cute little thing you are
I put my hands around you
I kiss you here and there
I place my tongue inside you
Then suck and draw and blow
I'd like to get to know you more
My sweet harmonica .

No.62: The Three Perverts, 1990

These Three perverts they all shared one bed
And sampled the filth they had in their heads

They quickly got tangled
One by one all got strangled

And now the poor f*****s are dead!

No.63 : The Young Man From Rome , 1990

There was a young man from Rome
Whose condition had made him leave home

He went to the town
pulled his pants down

And rubbed his d*** down to the bone .

No.64: The Man from Milan, 1990

There is this poor soul in Milan
Who knows not whether he's woman or man

He seems quite content
He's as straight as he's bent

And says:'If only others could be as I am '

No.65: The Man From Havana, 1990.

There was an old man from Havana
Whose P**** was like a banana

When he tried to make love
He's kick push and shove

And dance to the Coba-Cabana

No.66: The Waiter , 1988

I wore my bow tie
I went to the town
And I waited ,
And waited
I waited
And I waited .....
But she never turned up .

No. 67 : Crystal Ball, 1987

Chained to a crystal ball :
This world's epitome

Where all that is seen
Is rated by a company

I view the pain the misery ;
A cry for help; I sip my tea

And when my time is up
will millions watch in silent indignation ?

Or would they rather stand up
And switch to another station ?

No. 68: The Ballet , 1983

There was an old man form Calais
Who was hell bent on learning the ballet

When he attempted a spin
The ceiling caved in

And burried him under his chalet .

No. 69 :Moving Nowhere ,1985

Humid is the afternoon
With steaming beads of sweat
I set my sail

On concrete oceans
Filled with mist
And cardboard lies

And hopes that swim
Around my mind that splash
And fade and fade then die

A 60 m.p.h nomad stripped
Of my belongings yet
A mere possession of theirs am I

Alienation ; A punishment
For the curious painter's eye
For the afflicted poet's cry

For those that see and are seen
By themselves and knowing it's futile
Continue to say:

'The spirit clothed in flesh
Is all that counts '
Enter my fellow man:

And that too
A substitute , secreted
From a turpentine gland

And if you're really a man
Rest assured ..
For I am your fellow, man

Alone in a prison cell tonight
Both for small and petty is the cry
Mother Earth perpetually spews

For thy neighbour
Has not loved
His closest

Ulyssese the merciful
A young boy it was
That branded you cruel

To the island of Ithaca The waves ride me now
Back to the summit
Where the sea breaks the sand .

No.70: Frank, 2007

There was a young man named Frank
Who'd never learnt how to ****

He looked at some porn
He got on the horn

Then poured out some whisky and drank .

No. 71: Commuters, 1985

Breakfast TV followed by breakfast
Traffic jam or tube?
A choice to reunite this morning
With our fellows
To curse and discharge arrows
From our eyes
At our faceless, distant
But too close , unknown brethren
To the office, the factory floor
Far removed , tedious ,monotonous
Unbearable deeds of servitude
In order to spear the unsuspecting prey
And drag it yelling from the check out
All the way back to our lonely caves.

No.72: Cuckoo, 1986

I met a Cuckoo bird
And Koulla's what they call her

In size she's small ,in heart she's large
With slapstick sense of humour

If I locked her in a cage ,with door open
So that she could fly

I'm sure that she would return and tweet
For me , or I would turn to sky

No.73: The Bees, 2007

There was a young man from Belize
Who hugged and made love to the trees

An angry rose bush
Gave a hell of a push

And now he's an arse full of bees

No. 74: Fact and Fiction, 2007

The amount of fact that is presented as fiction is equal to the fiction that is dressed up as fact .

No.75: Work, 1990

Robin Sturgeon , worked in a furniture factory . He did not like his job , but he had to do something for a living .
Each day ,on his way to and from work , he used to see an old man seated by the local river bank, who seemed to be staring into the river and sometimes at the sky.
As time passed ,Robin soon got married ,this meant he had to work for some extra hours in the factory . After a while , together with his wife Annie , they decided to buy a house of their own and a car . To achieve this Robin took on all the extra hours of work offered to him by his employers which meant he had to give up his regular football training , which he used enjoyed so much .
A few years later , Robin and Annie had children. So as well as having to cope with six very long days at the factory , Robin took up part-time house painting and decorating which he carried out at nights and on Sundays . He did what ever he could to generate that so much needed extra income.However , this meant that Robin had to stop visiting the local pub which he only used to do once weekly in order to meet up with some friends and enjoy his darts game.
Robin was an extremely hard worker and managed to do his own motor car repairs
and household maintenance in order to avoid paying costly professionals.
In the very little time he had to himself , Robin stayed at home with Annie and their two children ; Stuart and Jenny. Both Robin and his wife were just too worn out and exhausted to take their children out for the day.
One summer's day whilst leaving the factory , on his way to do some evening painting and decorating , Robin realised that the house he was heading for, was very near the spot that the idle old man occupied upon the river bank. Having three and a half minutes to spare, Robin's curiousity got the better of him. He hurriedly approached the old man and almost angrily asked if he had ever worked in his life.
'No' . Replied the old man.'I don't have the time'.

No. 76: The Sea, 2007

There was a young woman from Leigh
Who yearned to make love to the sea

Once into the mood
Dived into it nude

And got wet as she trembled with glee

No. 77: Religion , 1990

Baz-Dar , the King of Thriscally was also the the high priest of the island's ancient and respected religion, Bazism .

One day as Baz- Dar sat in his holy temple meditating upon the holy scriptures of his forefathers , he realised that there was no mention in any of the sacred texts that the prophets ever ate potatoes. Being very concerned that the purity of the ancient teachings should be preserved , Baz-Dar decided to legislate against the eating of potatoes throughout Thriscally in order that his people remain close to God. Many of the faithful immediately obeyed the new law , however some objected on grounds of principle and others objected purely because they were in the business of selling potatoes. But the vast majority of those who opposed
the new law ,did so simply because they could not afford to eat anything else but potatoes.

Now many of the potato-eaters had to go into hiding to avoid persecution and to be able to cook their potatoes in peace .Bazism, the religion of Thriscally, had split into two factions.Life became very difficult for the potato-eaters , they had become second class citizens with no more hope of living their lives with dignity as Baz-Dar's oppressive regime took hold of them.Many had died of starvation until there was no other choice but to organise an armed struggle by forming para- military groups of freedom fighters.
Years of sporadic, mindless bloodshed escalated into a full scale civil war .After several years of fierce battles causing enormous destruction throughout the once beatiful and tranquil island, the potato-eaters had emerged victorious .
Baz-Dar was eventually captured by the resistance and imprisoned for life where he was force fed boiled potatoes three times daily.

The potato-eaters eventually ceased hostilities , established peace and formed a secular , democratic republic. Royalty had been abolished and religion was now to be a private affair of choice with no influence over the affairs of the government in order to maintain freedom of choice for every individual citizen.The new democratic republic even granted an amnesty to all the non potato-eaters thereby permitting them to abstain from eating potatoes.Yes , Thriscally had restored its former glory .
One day during the assembly of the democratic peoples' republic of Thriscally , it was pointed out by one representative of the people that some citizens were seen biting their finger nails in public. This was deemed unworthy of a free citizen living in a democracy.Soon , finger nail biting was to become illegal.....

No.78; Bed Time Story ,1983

Rocking in my bed alone
I rock ,rock , rock to my own song
The bed shakes as I groan
I've been a baby for too long

For a dummy in my mouth
An invisible nipple I always keep
As I wet myself down south
I turn and resume my uneasy sleep

No. 79: Bureaucracy ,2007

There is a way of eliminating bureaucracy once and for all . It's simple: First , you fill in a form, tick off all the boxes that are relevant , take a copy ,rubber stamp it and start all over again .

No. 80: This Life, 2007

What is this life ?
And what are we?

I truly feel ashamed of what we are
This species , this genus that we are

Lets face it we are intelligent
Nobody doubts

This is made evident by our numbers alone
And how we are gifted

We have the brain to adapt to our environment
And survive regardless of larger beasts

Who although more physically powerful
Have gradually dwindled in population

Still I am ashamed and not proud of being me
Or you , have you ever thought about it?

Okay we have colonised the planet
we live all over the world

In rural areas and all the major cities
Yet where ever we go we do leave filth

I don't really believe we are responsible
For destroying this planet

But we have made a difference
We are not making the place any cleaner

And although we do manage to survive
Or even over populate yet still

We have our fair share of disease
And yes we can kill all right when we need to

Lets face it to be honest we are vile
But it could be worse ; we're not human

(Rattus Rattus ).

No. 81: The Bull, 2007

There was a young man from Kabul
Who tried to make love to a bull

He sat on its spike
It went for a hike

And the bleeder fell off like a fool .

No. 82: The Creation, 1990

There was no beginning ,for the Gods always were and always will be . There are no other Gods than the infinite number of metamorphic Gods who created the heavens .

Now of all the billiions of stars and planetary bodies in the universe that they had created , The Gods favoured the Earth , and upon it the Gods created the early lizards which were called the dinosaurs .

The Gods looked at the dinosaurs and admiring their beastly beauty , the Gods transformed themselves to resemble the dinosaurs . Now because the dinosaurs were in the image of the Gods ,the Gods with their grace and in their infinite wisdom made a promise to the dinosaurs : If the dinosaurs could live in peace they would be rewarded by inheriting the Earth for their future generations to live on in paradise for millions of years .

Now the dinosaurs lived on for many years upon the Earth but would sometimes eat eachother and steal eachothers' territories. So the Gods saw to it that a prophet was sent amongst them by the name of Dioplodocus . Now Diplodocus brought a warning to the dinosaurs from the Gods . He told his brethren that if they were not to change their evil ways , the dinosaurs would be devoured by a white plague sent from the Gods.

The unruly dinosaurs did not heed the warning of Diplodocus and the white plague descended from the north and ascended from the south and from both polar caps it multiplied and outwards freezing the oceans and solidifying all the vegetation. And when the whole Earth was frozen by the white plague , the early lizards too were wiped off the face of the Earth for evermore .


After the great thaw , the Earth was restored to its former beauty and the Gods then , after careful consideration , created the woolly mammoths and sabre-toothed tigers which were called the early mammals .

The Gods looked at the early mammals and admiring their savage elegance , the Gods transformed themselves to resemble the woolly mammoths and sabre toothed tigers . Now because the woolly mammoths and sabre toothed tigers were in the image of the Gods , the Gods in their wisdom , made a promise to the early mammals:
If the woolly mammoths and the sabre toothed tigers could live peaceably on Earth , they would be rewarded by inheriting the Earth as their own for future generations to live in paradise for millions of years

Now the woolly mammoths and sabre-toothed tigers lived on Earth for many years but sometimes the sabre-toothed tigers would eat young mammoths. At other times the woolly mammoths would stampede the sabre-toothed tigers and seize all of their territory thereby taking control of the water supplies and preventing the tigers from drinking , causing many sabre-toothed tigers to die out due to thirst.
the mammals continued thus for many years taking part in continuous territorial disputes..

The Gods having grown weary of their offspring behaving in such an unearthly way decided to send a second prophet down to warn them . The second prophet whom the Gods sent to Earth was called Mastodon . He came and lived amongst his brethren and warned them that if they did not change their evil ways , the early mammals would be wiped of the face of the Earth by a deadly pink plague sent down by the Gods .

The woolly mammoths and sabre-toothed tigers continued to ignore Mastodon's warnings and eventually the dreaded pink plague appeared . It started from the fertile lands then rapidly multiplied , first crawling on the land then developing the ability to swim in the seas. The pink plague then managed to fly in the air . This plague swiftly poisoned the skies , blackened the oceans and contaminated the entire variety of the Earth's vegetation thus exterminating all of the early mammals.

The Gods looked at Man and admiring his industrious intelligence, the Gods transformed themselves to resemble Man . Now because Man was in the image of the Gods, the Gods in their grace and divine wisdom,made no promises .

No.83 : The Stork , 2006

There was an old slut from New York
Who had legs like an elderly Stork

She shagged until dawn
Got up in the morn

And found she was unable to walk

No. 84:The Gorilla, 1989

There was an old man from Manilla
Who slept with a female gorilla

She squeezed his **** tight
Then gave a love bite

And he swore if she left him he'd kill'er .

No. 85: Christmas Day , 2006

It's Christmas day
Christmas pop songs piped out
Family dos and no family don'ts
It would remind you if you're alone .
And all the preaching that goes on
Time for the pastors to reclaim their own
And remind us that what we celebrate
Is the birth of a king
A king who came to save us all
By his sacrifice (they say)
We are saved , yes all of us
Not just those who joined the club.
Now look ,now we know this, look around
Every body's happy .
Millions everyday suffer a miserable existence
And as long as they know that Jesus loves them
they can sigh with relief and carry on .


Christmas day and year after year we thank and praise
and worship and adore and beg at the feet of our symbols
Lest we descend into idolatry .
Christmas day switch on the net and a billion cybersouls
All floating , soaking , watching ,searching , sharing information.
Lost at sea no one in sight to read this floating bottle .
Christmas day it came and it went away .
So glad it's all over . No more sentimental pop
Or variations of the same stale party theme.
The agonising and the rows , the bad vibrations shared all round
Were like a toast of hate in a glass.
Some time to think maybe , some days off
This the gift the Gods have allowed
Time to slow down and contemplate what it was that
Had been in mind.


Christmas day and all is glowing lights flashing
And yes people praying
In far away lands , the non 'Christian' folk
We've punished the bastards and now they're finishing it off!
And pray as they tear themselves apart.
The weather's got better , a lull before the storm
I had my coffee in the garden without a coat.
And cakes and cola and whisky and wine and meat from
all over from tortured game and swine.
The demagogues and celebrities and all the the constituents
Of a stable oligarchy can join with you and
celebrate, It's good to be a part of all this.
And now it's drawing to a close I ask myself
Well was it worth it ?, was it worth the whole divine plot?
Creator and Son or Creator and Co.
Still in business , and so around we go and go.


Christmas day and people all around, yet I am alone
Alone with so many .
All that we invested and all the expectations
have come to this and rubbish sacks at the door
Not picked up for a few days yet
Who can read this message and what good will it do?
Christmas will be over ,or not celebrated there.
Who will save me and set sail to this point
To find a computer generated message playing 'lost at sea '
Just one more time.
And so the party goes on and on and on
Bodies shaking and letting 'it' all out and
Taking it all back from the other end.
Oh what cheer and good will ..
We've got to catch him and crucify him still!

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.

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.

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 .

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 .

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 .

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.

No. 93: Spider, 1984

Spider crawling on the wall
I think I'll have to end your trip

I'll pick you up and throw you out
I'm sure you'll find elsewhere to grip

Maybe you're a house spider
Who's destined to return

Another species just like man
One that just won't learn

No.94:Philosophers, 2006

'The Human being is the only species that begins life as a truly great and inquisitive philosopher, then gradually through education , experience and necessity gradually develops into an opinionated ,bigoted old ignoramus'.

No.95: Piss Artist, 1984

I'm pissed , I'm drunk
A Bacchus incarnate

I got tipsy on whiskey
A converted inebriate

Eveything is rosy
Fine if the night won't end

Ah! what if I sober up
And 'conned' descend ?

No. 96: Mirror, 1984

Mirror cracked from side to edge
An elbow damaged too
A slice of bacon , hyena's sandwich
With sauce of leeches' brew.

Casualty: Doctor and nurse have work to do
To which they disincline
Stitch by stitch , good tailoring
They bind this hide of mine.

What vanity and incontinence
Has caused this bitter strife?
Like Narcissus I've paid my dues
And now I'm scarred for life.

Mirror cracked from edge to side
You who claims to tell no lie
In pieces I have left you
And in pieces so am I.