CLOUD OF MUD
It is not a white cloud.
It is not a dark cloud.
It is a cloud of mud.
It doesn´t indicate the presence of the sun;
It doesn´t announce a rainy day.
It is a mix of water and dirt
It is not a white cloud.
It is not a dark cloud.
It is not a cloud.
Whispers in tears of velvet squares apposed to yellow sunshine.
I can only sense in shades of the most prominent colours of the rainbows
I sit watching the crowds of people walking faster than he knows
You are untracable in waterfalls cascading trumpets playing all goes
We walk hand in hand to keep the demons aways from the scarecrows
Look at the diamond how prescoius it looks with all the colours of universe in rose
Sorry if this doesn,t catch your imagination but my time flies faster as time flows
Persist my friend because one day the arch of your back will bend and tomorrow you will be smaller and you will dose
Relinquish your arms and follow the sound of the tambourine bouncing in your head once it will say how it bows
Polite people follow me because I have dared to dream about the way that sorrow shows
Into your anguish tainted by members of the elite to watch you try once again in tatters as she grows
I feel complete in actions and intent while my dog snoozes for teztimecwill pose
Yes the whispering tears of velvet squares apose to yellow sunshine butvreme ber the white light alwaysxand forever glows.
Lola
Lola is the name of a woman I have just met
She is very familiar of my work as I always bet
I know she likes gospel music as she sings to set
Lola transcends my mind because I often let
She is very intelligent and gives advice to vet
I know I like her very much but she doesn,t want a pet
Lola is her name and her children offer her my debt
She is wonderful like a cherished person should always get
I know she has the brownest eyes of which I often look at and yet
Lola is her name and I feel wonderment in her company but we never ever really met.
They were here in the begin
Created by him
Abraxas the father
Running existence through creation
The uber alles god
Hitler Christ
And all the worlds religions
Existing in Nazism.
Every line of history
only nazi lies
The non-existent truth
Wiped out in the gas chambers.
It doesn;t exist
Shouts an old timer
When every existent thing belongs
To them.
Salt water taffy orchestrated,
pouring grain and sweating.
Spinning my silhouette,
as the dog failed his frisbees.
It doesn' let the sun’s rays wash over me,
replicate large wooden planks,
for heart boardwalking day by day.
Sandbars can sometimes be paramour,
idyllic feeding high memories.
So blue as seashells with a spiral pattern.
Averse to an occasional dalliance,
enthralling you, God.
The has been
He sits with his hand folded and unfolding
the only part of his body that moves
his face is in the shadow.
His eyes are watery and blank
he appears tired looking for the dream which escaped him.
Sadness cut deep lines in his face, that of a loser´s
a coward that never took the final step.
It doesn´t matter anymore; life cannot be re-lived.
Diabetic hand-book
If you forgot why you are in the kitchen it is
probably because cause your wife has hided
the nectar.
Wives are no good in letting you remember.
Sex over eighty is cumbersome and clumsy
avoid it at all cost.
If you can´t remember yesterdays’ lunch
the likelihood is it was boring.
If you can´t remember your cat´s name do not worry
it doesn´t know either.
If your diabetic feet restrict your walking. try a treadmill
when you see a blank wall remind yourself
that you were bored too when young.
Swimming can be good but preferable in a child´s pool.
The point of all these exercises is to live longer
but you will only live as long as nature intended,
Goodbye Donald Trump
He has gone now, are you sure thought I saw his shadow.
On the wall just before sunup.
No, no he has gone, and a script is ready an actor, Clooney.
is playing him.
Donald Trump has gone to Florida he is a golf fanatic and
the presiding 4 years has nothing to do with him.
Well, he built a wall the Mexicans refuse to pay for,
it´s an ugly wall, and it doesn´t make the landscape more lovely.
Kind to his friends though pardoned them all.
What will happen next? Not much at first but, he has left.
A legacy of right-wing- extremists.
One thing to his favour he resisted Israel’s pressure to
Obliterate Iran he had no stomach for a real war and,
The question is, will the new administration resist a war too.
A place of note
There live in Cascais many older adults,
some of them are wealthy widows (but I have yet to meet any)
they sleep late the internet doesn´t begin before 9-10 o’clock
and I`m up at seven, the habit of a lifetime.
The redundant royal lives in a posh hotel I think they are paid
by the countries, they came from to stay away.
Some royalists dream of bringing back the kings
Queens (not that sort) princes and princesses, better not
to upset any of them as they have friends in high places.
The mask we have to wear id a blessing hiding ancient lips
and gold teeth, wearing a mask makes people look younger.
The love bugs.
Love is like diabetes you have it and live with the malady
taking the right medicine but is not going away.
When a man falls in love, he thinks he is in heaven and follows
where love takes him until it dawns on him, he loves
a person who doesn´t love him or pretends to love him.
Whether she leaves him or he leaves her, the pain is equal.
It has no cure only a lifelong sadness that like a shadow
is always with him, if he had been more caring, she might
have stayed, but he knows in his heart it is not so.
Those who care about him say, if you stay at a bus stop a bus will
stop, but, it isn´t not going his way.
Unrequested love is like diabetes he has to accept and go on with
the business of living, after all, sadness makes a person more
understanding to other people’s problem.
The March
The best-designed plans
have the tendency
to not materialize.
Plan B and plan C
is the smoke of despair.
Overcoming obstacles,
try a new plan again
that doesn´t include
a third individual.
Postponing your journey
until the sunlit days
turn into fog and
a miasma of precipitation.
It rains on your parade
the triumph of the will
not yours
has won.
An oil port
He is looking on to shore and sees an oil terminal
waiting for the pilot, he may arrive today or tomorrow.
Well he is not going ashore at this Arab port it is
usually boring full of men smoking water pipes talking
excitedly about the next revolution and he knows
as a white man, he viewed with suspicion.
He never understood a culture where women are cattle
sit indoors and wait to be pregnant again.
This is a society of men, and as such, they make a mess
of daily life.
It takes 12 hours to load the ship with crude oil, bound
for Antwerp, which is more like the home he understands
the people there can have a beer in a bar and not starred
at with hatred.
Mind, he knows well the white people have done much
harm in this part of the world, nevertheless he dislikes
their culture, but he doesn´t care to understand them.
Some mornings
When you are over eighty, the medics lose interest
in your health, I used to see the heart specialist every six months
and check diabetes every three months
now they have stopped seeing me.
It is like they think, what the heck he is old enough anyway.
Not that I care sitting all day indoors looking out
of the window seeing life lived as a spectator.
The phone doesn´t ring anymore and the few friends I had
are dead or in the bosom of AA, their life has been reduced
going to meeting keeping their morale up.
Listening to the endless yammer of self - obsessed people
talking about themselves their goal is sobriety, and they spend
rest of their life cocooned in safety while dreaming of whiskey.
We old people are so ugly we walk ungainly, and we have
forgotten to live in the day.
We have lived our life lost the zest and our laughter when
we laugh, is a scream of despair
It happens
Like driftwood in a restless sea of humanity
is the story of my life, plans I made never came to fruition
the current shifted course, I ended up in a land, not mine.
I lived in relative harmony near a forest and nature
and had an obedient dog; life was calm and easygoing.
There is good times and bad times; I had lived in a cove
where the current doesn´t reach, but a big storm came
and I was back as driftwood no rudder and no plan.
I ended up in Cascais, which I thought was a place for
ex-kings and president, thrown out of their country and
now living off the spoil of their robbery.
Cascais as I know it is a place full of cars driving fast
a few trees here and there, but not a half-decent park.
What do I know, everyone around me wears jeans and
a T. shirt and since this is equality time one of them
could be an ex-king.
As for planning nae, I leave that to the current.
Fishery
He is a fisherman from Guiana
doesn´t do Tonga, but the sea is blue.
His face is a map of America.
He fishes sharks (not Hemingway)
one of them took his arm.
Vengeance is mine, said the lord.
Crap !!! He says
and set red sail for China.
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