Best Hague Poems
That pensive look on her sweet face
Just like a child of mine.
Her eyes seem to follow you with
Dominion that's divine.
Northwest light on soft blush hued cheeks
Her grey-green eyes lay bare
Perhaps a secret rendezvous
In enigmatic stare.
Wet lips stained as if with cherries
Delft blue scarf hides her hair...
In penchant blossom of her youth
Portrait of beauty rare.
From her left ear hangs gracefully
One solitary pearl.
Melancholy hints, she may be
A woman, yet a girl.
May 3, 2017
Note:
Johannes Vermeer's 'Girl with a pearl earring'
c.1665 Mauritius Museum, The Hague.
The Dutch artist was born in Delft in 1632-1675.
One of the key paintings in Vermeer's oeuvre,
this portrait resists all attempts at the precise
identification of the sitter. It's charm, perhaps,
lies in the fact that it is an evocative expression
of timeless female beauty. I viewed this masterpiece
in 2009. She has the entire wall to herself.
Between an unjust war or peace, which would you choose?
Ukraine had no choice so we must ensure they don't lose
Russian thugs invaded Ukraine to reinstate the Iron Curtain
And this is only the very beginning and of that I am certain.
I know it's a big ask, the Ukrainian people asking for more
But do you really want Russian thugs banging on your door
With the west and NATO's help Ukraine are holding their own
Now is not the time for the west, to look away and disown.
NATO and the civilised world should never bow to tyranny
If we're not united against Putin he will look on with glee
Don't waver in your support of this brave and proud nation
Don't hand Putin a hollow victory for the Russian Federation.
Like most of the civilised world, Ukraine wants to live in peace
If Putin wins do ask yourself, who's next, Estonia or Greece?
We've supported the Ukrainian people from the very beginning
Only with our support have they got a good chance of winning.
It's been nearly two years now and Putin hasn't yet succeeded
Ukrainians are fighting for their lives, but more arms are needed
It is certainly not the time for our politicians to argue about cost
If they do, it will be on their heads that freedom's war was lost.
I look forward to the day when Putin is put on trial in The Hague
Who's been the cause of so many deaths, more than the plague
Don't vote for gutless politicians who want to look the other way
Only by us being totally united will we be able to make Putin pay.
Written on 28th December 2023.
The Ukrainian flag flies again in Kherson, it is a joy to see
The Russian army are running scared from Ukraines military
Russia pulled out its army saying it was a tactical move
But against Ukraines valiant army, they have a lot to prove.
Their so called special military operation is now lying in tatters
Total victory for the brave Ukrainians is now all that matters
Russia have had many setbacks you hear about them everyday
Ukraine will not yield to the Russians and are driving them away.
The retreating Russian army have now pulled back to the Dnipro River
With a harsh winter approaching I hope they get frostbite and shiver
They've behaved like wild animals and they do not deserve to live
It will be a cold day down in the furnace of hell before anyone can forgive.
But Ukraine remains cautious as the Russians beat a hasty retreat
Vladimir Putin is so thick skinned and he will not accept defeat
They've probably laid booby trap explosives, to inflict fatal injury
They don't care who they kill, be it innocent civilians or military.
Vladimar Putin will be removed from power, it is just a matter of time
I hope he's handed over, and in the Hague charged with his heinous crime
But for now proud Ukrainians celebrate, as their flag again flies in Kherson
I pray that in time we'll hear about Ukraines victory, and how the war was won.
Written on 12th November 2022.
Urgent Call for Love
The evil axis has been burning
Who rules the land? It’s now very vague.
The second son must get out of old Al Sham
And meet the hungry jury in The Hague
The puppet is hanging by his last string
And the judgment day is sure to come
Forty thousand martyrs will be singing
As they join me in my urgent call for love.
The war machine is pregnant and is bloated.
Money births an icy, rigid son.
He grows up in the muck of all this madness,
It arms its addled brother with a gun.
In my world, war is not an option,
Let’s end the chaos with a silken glove
Murdered angels soar among the heavens
Please join me, in my urgent call for love.
I’d love to build a mass market dart board
With mug shots of the Senators and House
I’d load it on an App and shoot the darts off
With the quiet, perfect clicking of my mouse.
How can these servants bow before their master?
When Moses had already freed his tethered load?
Make them testify before the one judge
And answer to our urgent call for love
Some years ago a scholar lost his lectern
Because somebody stole my vote away
He spoke his truth in defense of climate
And was told let’s fix it later, not today
When the perfect storm came a calling
It blew our measured lives and hopes astray
My Mother, here’s an olive branch and white dove
I surrender to the urgent call for love.
The pleading skies and rivers, they have warned us
Their voices rose to wail their tortured song
The veins of life, they have been all corrupted
And darkness has been blinding us in fog.
Insanity bathes in its make shift chambers
It soaks in a vile and filthy marble tub.
Please join in my call for our salvation,
I am humbled, in my urgent call for love.
Brenda Atry 1/1/2013 copyright pending
“Philosykos”
Coerced I was enticed to enter their incohesive world
my mind bleeds like black currents aross the water-colour page
forming strange language electric messages l’eau papier imprints uncompleted
sparks form and burn through the walls of churlish Eden to the outer existence
the inner world of freedom, naked and open, I’ve become Philosykos
I strip the bark down
love notes written
kisses tasting like Eden’s sweetest
hand-fed mindless figs with mercy
teasing juicy red apples
undressed like an envelope
naked and open
Candide Diderot. ‘25
“In Greek, "Philosykos" translates to "friend of the fig tree". This name is derived from the Greek words "philos", meaning friend, and "sykon", meaning fig.”
“As ink soaks into a sheet of white paper, shadows emerge. Worlds are invented. L'Eau Papier celebrates the power of the imagination – that moment, suspended in time, when ink, paper and the hand become one. In L'Eau Papier, white musks are delicately faceted by an accord of rice steam, evoking the grain of the paper. To these are added luminous notes of mimosa, while a backdrop of blonde wood tones grounds L'Eau Papier in the material itself.”
"Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden"
Wenzel Peter, (Karlsbad 1745 - Rome 1829), oil on canvas, Vatican Museums
"The Garden of Eden with the Fall of Man or The Earthly Paradise with the Fall of Adam and Eve"
Peter Paul Rubens, Jan Brueghel the Elder (1615), oil on panel,
Mauritshuis, The Hague
To the proud parents, Anna and Theo
A serious lad, silent and thorough
A clan of preachers
And dealers of art
From the southern Netherlands came Van Gogh
When sent to school, he did not want to go
The separation led to much sorrow
But he learned to draw
Whatever he saw
Sent off to sell art in Paris, Van Gogh
His happiest time, and now in love, oh
Till the landlady’s daughter told him no
Now a broken heart
Surly to sell art
Fired from his job in Paris, Van Gogh
Vincent sought out a coal miners’ burrow
A priest of sorts, but a squalid fellow
The church was appalled
And cursed his resolve
To the asylum for crazy Van Gogh?
His father baffled, on the verge of foe
Art interest, once again, began to grow
Back to school again
This time, in His name
To paint in the service of God, Van Gogh
School’s out, back to his parents he would go
Using neighbors as subjects to ditto
Proposed to his cousin
Which she found disgustin’
Burning his hand to see her, holy Van Gogh!?!
Now off to The Hague, a family furlough
To live with Sien, a boozing bimbo
A man to see ya…
Caught gonorrhea
Three weeks in the hospital for Van Gogh
The pain of loneliness drove him back home
Once again, a failed love with fair Margot
Then Vincent’s father died
He grieved deeply inside
The tragedy further refined Van Gogh
Finally, Vincent’s work was in the know
“The Potato Eaters” made an art show
Just add more color
Said his dear brother
Rubens brightened the dark gloom of Van Gogh
Vincent’s diet: coffee and tobacco
Mixed with absinthe began to take its toll
Though he kept on painting
Then Paris, more training
The end was getting closer for Van Gogh
The masters: Monet, Degas, Pissarro
Cezanne, and Seurat in his studio
Influenced his style
Learning all the while
That time was running out for Mr. Van Gogh
Then he moved to Arles, bad health in tow
Completing great works the whole world would know
“Sunflowers” (in vase)
“The Café Terrace”
Minus one ear, the frail, ailing Van Gogh
With his tattered mind, and mournful woe
Committed to the asylum, Mausole
With his final works
“The Church at Auvers”
“Starry Night” was painted in pain, Van Gogh
“At Eternity’s Gate”, he was sorrow
Wandered into a field, farmer’s fallow
Put a bullet in his chest
In hopes of peaceful rest
“The sadness will last forever”, Van Gogh
When Humanity Cries
Message in my angry pen
Peeps yearning for release
To scrawl on white walls
Venom from a ‘ball’ sting,
Bane in an irate pen
From a daring ken.
I yearn to hug The Hague
With stumps for hands
Which were both chopped
By some idiotic bandit-
He’s on the Court file
I’ve reason to smile!
I’ll murmur woes of war
Into the cockles of its ear
Cut lips the Cross to kiss
Iron taste of cold metal;
Gone past pain of whips
My lip chopped as chips!
I see with my big Heart
Both eyes all gone blind
The sight is that of greed
Where no Civility thrives-
I presume they are stars
O Gosh! They are scars!
Weaklings trampled dead
Line each side of the road
Suppurating in cold dreams
Power of force flying fast,
Right is not so strong
But the strong or wrong.
Modest message peeping
From shadows called Ink
Yearn to release Graphics
Of Humanity crying;
Where Ghandi stood once
His ideals have no chance.
Formation is taking shape
In battle with poetic force
Frenzy poised to pounce
And denounce decadence.
Mother’s loin was torched
As Hiroshima scorched!
My Anger was aroused;
Like tinned fish so packed
And carted away from Home
To work another’s Farm;
Until I learned to read
I loathed this dread!
We cry, cry beloved groin
When another one dies
“He’s taken, taken by AIDS!”
I mourn, I travail, I wish......
Holding a dead child
I cry hoarse and wild!
I whimper like an orphan
Sucking Pen for a thumb
To draw the bitter Ink
And spit to the paedophiles.
Bereaving children fun
Evading his lewd run.
I smoke and sniff this paper
Scrawled this painful writ
That, perchance, putrid lungs
The message will massage.
I yearn for an injection
And not this rejection!
Where then is my mother?
Ah! A Kitchen Girl.......
Father? A Garden Boy
Boy and Girl at their age...?
Now I sleep not a wink
A wretch on the brink....
Ink tears well in my eyes.
I feel I’ve gone shorter
Rolling down the cheek pad
To leave a letter of pain.
I kneel, my sins to bloat
Till knees bald as a goat!
JM
29th Oct’ 2013
The Ancient Mariner of the parliament square
Like the mariner he was, a scrawny, skin unfair
A loner with a glittering eyes, possibly a bit touched
A Clint Eastwood impersonator look, he seemed to bear
But a powerful speaker than professional speakers.
Urging world to live a more Christian life cleaner
Lived and slept outside the parliament for a decade
In his hand holding, with broad thrust, a loudhailer.
Against Western groups killing thousands Iraqi people
He fought and spoke for 3,600 days like an eagle.
Of traffic, clock bangs and the hordes of visitors.
When Haw at his mouthpiece, all the voices disabled
Haw had a remarkably insistent, irritating voice
And Mr. David Blunkett was irked and annoyed
Reacting to 2005 organized crime And Police Act
It was “using a maul to crack a nut” to destroy.
The More Brian noise caused with his loudhailer
The more MPS demanded to remove the bother
But the word “Bother” sounded too weak
Compared to warmongering by Blaire & B-liars.
With an Antipodean woman Haw shared war choirs
With his trademark cries of “ Tony B-liar, Tony B.I.A.R”
When another woman started up, public was grateful
Sharp as seamstress’s needle was Sheila’ s crisp voice.
Despite his Left-wing favor, he was a Right-wing figure
A man, standing up to the state, never thought to disfigure
Brian Haw had plenty more fuel for all his protests
The war in Afghanistan and the war in Iraq to configure.
When Milosevic was tried at the Hague for war crimes
He said, “why not to try Blair and Bush’s Crimes?”
Like Coleridge’s haunted mariner: long, lank & brown
He had one vice: tobacco, he died of lung cancer prime.
+++
March 12, 2014
Dr. Ram Mehta
Form: Rubaiyat
Contest: One Against Many by Joe Maverick
my dirty little stones in a pouch
received in a hotel one night
slid them under my pillow
dreamt sweetly
opened the pouch in the morning after breakfast
saw dirty little stones
wondered what they could be
went to smith the jeweller
sat on the couch as i waited for him to wash them
came to me holding something glittery
it was diamonds
i jumped up and down
told him he could sell them on a black market
take his share
i locked them in my safe at home
would you like to hear more
before i do that
i have to go and testify at the hague
diamonds are forever and you too should have them
Hitler Lives.
In a village near mine an old man lives, so ancient
a TV station took an interest and interviewed him,
they thought he must be 104 or more. I looked at
the face his mustache, white and he had gone bald;
spoke Portuguese with a heavy Austrian accent.
No doubt in my mind I was looking at Adolf Hitler.
To my deep suspicion and when asked about his
longevity said he a vegetarian but liked strudel,
told the village policeman about it, but first I had
to tell him who Hitler was; a shoulder shrug, all so
long ago no point going into all this now.
I called the TV station they hung up on me, but
not before I heard their unqualified laughter.
What am I to do? Can´t just chain myself to him
and take him to Hague…he´s too infirm for that.
A last resort is to send an email Israel, ask them
to let Mossed (their homicide department) send
a couple of agents and take care of the matter.
AFRICAN POLITICS
All who vote will have a kit to track their twice vote fingers
For voting jaunts are fun to do –Obama’s victory lingers
Rousing speeches move the crowds to switch their party’s stance
If there's cash it helps inspire the wild election dance
Camera cell phones all abound-- some legal and some not
And world reporters film it all— for violence sells hot
No one knows what will come next, but it will pay a lot
Politicians beat the Hague and beg for ever vote
On the stage they sing and clown and eat until they bloat
Little can be done to change the spectacle we see
Ill-fated U.N. reigns advice---it stays the same to me
Take a little glimpse of life in democratic form
Itchy teachers strike for pay and kids burn down their dorm
Clever pundits cast their views through newscasts on TV
Slow to see the world burn down in stark reality
The Aye See See,
Demands! All rogues to the Hague!
Not so! Argues Ay You,
Our justice is tribune and divine,
Yours - archaic and Roman!
With insolent rage she defies,
And vows to send all her rogues,
Not to the Hague, but to her courts!
And insists - they alone can judge!
You Es Ay bellows and threatens!
Amidst the furore Aye Am Ef,
Her funds she withdraws,
But to no avail, Ay You sticks to her guns!
And insists, when it comes to her rogues,
She alone is sovereign!
Stunned, they seek a You En resolution,
Which only You Es Ay can enforce!
The bigger the hypocrite.
Emails sent as a token of friendship.
Isis Isis come cause the crisis...
Who is behind this phenomenon of terror?
Who you don't suspect?
Not a million years detect.
The city with a heart tells the rotterdam tribunal at hague
Oh stay calm....
.with tempered resolve
through it all
Aye the louder the mouth
The bigger the hypocrite
Isis....you and zionislam
Are condemned to fall.
It should have been here, this court
Here in Arusha or Abuja or nearer
This court that seeks to try Africans
For crimes said to be committed
Against people here in Africa
Not at The Hague, not in Europe
Not in the belly of the serpent
That enslaved, robbed, raped
And destroyed much of Africa
And still plots to dominate
To subjugate, to humiliate
And yes, to control, yes
To control our psyche
Our resources
Our thoughts
And our destiny
Our greater destiny
For we are destined to be
Greater than ever before
Richer than ever before
Freer than ever before
Happier than ever before
Prouder than ever before
And thankful to God only
Not to self-appointed
Self-annointed bigots
Whose aim is to keep
The status quo, the status quo, the status quo!
C’est toujours un liaison tres dangereuse!
With no end in sight and a year has passed.
Kremlin won’t admit their forces are gassed.
So they keep their foot on the wrong pedal.
Exhausting their labor and supply of metal.
Playing chicken with a globe full of enemies.
Moskow wealthy saw their accounts freeze.
Peaceful banks are refusing to aid and abet.
Forcing the powerful elite to do a full reset.
The world has endured enough nonsense.
The ICC is asking Putin to start his repents.
They issued his arrest warrant for crimes
Of atrocities against children many times.
Abducting and trafficking them into Russia.
Dealing low blows to their parents in militia.
Doing this thousands of times at his request.
Kidnapping hostages & executing the rest.
Without a conscience targeting defenseless.
Forming Barbaric creatures to be tasteless.
Now justice is being served by The Hague.
To put an end to this insane Soviet plague.
We should see Nuremberg Trials part two.
To see the bastards brought their hell due.
Ruining cities deserves equal punishment.
Payback earned for their missile rains sent.