Westbury where skyscrapers scratch clouds,
And backstreet murmur under glowing hum,
The metro slumbers,but terror thunderous crowds.
Laaities hone okapis where mumbled thugs come,
Each gangway a rabbit warren of cries,
And moms grab the dark,awaiting some.
In kangaroo courts blood thirsty 28s and 27s rise,
A revolver roars,the night asks but none says a prayer
While guiltlessness is sold in whispered lies.
Yet in this war,the lane hides myths rare,
Of youngsters who dodge the deep state,running fast,
Their footprints rebound,shivering through the air.
Westbury your skyscrapers check out the die cast,
Each brick a testifier,every lantern a guide,
The twilight is long,but hope remains at last.
The matriarchs of sections keep life supplied,
Their pleading a vein hope under mortar veins,
Where cowards hide,the soul of Westbury won't die
I step onto my departure from the dock
to embark on a voyage of the amygdala.
Here lies a treasure trove of motion.
The gangway moves slowly,
no suitcases or fare stubs,
only our passports—
those little books of identity
that grant us entry.
Then we all separate into the chambers
of the left and right atriums.
We check in at the front desk
like a queue of traffic.
Murmurs from fellow passengers drown out
the gratuities,
as our steward paces the hallway
with a duty-free smile.
At last, we reach the bridge,
suspended between the bow and stern.
All my ‘what ifs’ and ‘buts’
rising up and thrown overboard
like drifting flotsam.
Nagasaki
There are nights when things become clear
when the Pacific Ocean lived up to its name
I sat on deck, listened to the heartbeat of
the vessel, which ticked faster when an engineer
opened a door and came out on the deck
Laughter in the mess hall, no, I was not at ease
in their company, too old at sixty
I have tried the swagger, the misogyny, where
Women were either whores or mothers
The ship was bound for Nagasaki, and I had
been here before when looking for a graveyard
where Portuguese sailors had died when
Japan was an unknown land
When walking down the gangway, didn't
to say goodbye, it was dinner time anyway
before flying back to Europe
I announce a decree,
overactive bladder, pee frequently.
I must haste to and fro,
because I just really have to go.
Gangway, vacate the loo,
or I'm going to splash all over you!
I wear industrial size diapers that
are pricey,
I'm a human waterfall, how dicey.
Aging isn't easy,
I know this poem is cheesy,
but I still can do a little dance,
as I've nicknamed myself, "Pissy-Pants!"
A story of love
Eva Braun was a Greenland seal who lived in an aquarium
Herr Hitler liked animals; dogs adored him.
in childhood, his call for love denied him
his dream was sitting by the fireside stroking a dog
and feeding Eva in her aquarium.
In the country, I lived on many tiny islands
bridges built; the islands no longer feel like islands.
Nevertheless, we stood at the gangway of a ferry
that was going to an island that didn’t have a bridge
I knew you were not coming back, pleaded with
you gave me a phone number when I tried to call
it sounded as was dipped into a fish tank
I heard repressed laughter; it must have been
fun to joke with a man you no longer found useful.
C`est la vie…
Deluge of valleys into lakes and seas
caused chaos as Noah and sons observe
man, plants and animals losing their ease.
God whose truth and justice struck a raw nerve,
when the mighty flood took its nasty curve.
The pagans who had laughed at Noah’s ark
met their death in dodging God’s clear benchmark.
Sovereign God offered mercy’s gangway
as builders preached clearly how to embark
grace in the Valley of Moral Decay.
The ancient regime
I was in Shanghai once during the cultural revolution
everyone mostly young people wore the same grey clothes
half military cut, not a colour in sight except for the flag.
And the book they gave everyone called “Mao´s little red book.”
where words the new China was printed, those
who argued had to confess in public and sent to a camp,
or farm this to learn to be a worker.
Of course, in this socialist paradise, we were not allowed
to go ashore and the was a guard by the gangway to be sure
we didn´t run away.
It didn´t strike anyone; it was the last thing we would do.
It couldn´t last slowly colours crept in, and women dressed
even if grey dresses, with feminist style
Today China is a state capitalist country and is doing
very well, thanks to American outsourcing (wages) making
the Midwest into a wasteland.
Early rising, toddlers sleeping,
got to get them out of bed.
Shake them gently,tired eyes peeping,
dress them quickly, get them fed.
Bags are packed, time is tight,
got to make the airport run.
Catching an early morning flight
for two weeks holiday in the sun.
Check for passports, check for tickets,
check the door locks, check for cash.
Make sure there's no plugs left in sockets,
then off we go for the airport dash.
Eating miles of motorway Tarmac,
slick with morning drizzle, wet.
Children restless, fighting in back,
chant in unison, "Are we there yet?"
Park the car and grab the cases,
wait in the drizzle for the bus.
Stand in line with miserable faces,
next year it's Meet & Greet for us!
At the airport find the check-in,
passports all in order, great!
At security wind my neck in,
temper fraying with the wait.
Then we're bussed out to the runway,
budget airlines make me seethe.
Up the steps and down the gangway,
find my seat, sit down, then - breathe!
ALWAYS CHECK YOUR TANK
Johnny Smiths gang had just robbed the town bank
With gang members scar face Mike, and old Hank
Their getaway car
Wasnt going far
Cos Hank forget to put gas in the tank...
SHIVER ME TIMBERS
An old pirate had woodworm in his leg
Wanted to go ashore for a new peg
As he walked down the gangway
His old withered stump gave way
He cursed as o'er the side went his rum keg...
THE GRADUATE
It was Elaine Robinsons wedding day
Poor Ben shouted through the window "no way"
Mrs Robinson just glared
All the congregation stared
As Elaine and Ben made their getaway...
CAN'T SIT
A window cleaner was cleaning the glass
Spied the owner in bed with a young lass
Asked could he join in the fun
Saw the owner get his gun
Now cant sit cos of buckshot in his a.s.s...
Written 1st September 2020.
Agoraphobia
Voyaging from Cuba to South Korea across the Pacific
takes about three weeks on an old freighter, but we knew
it had a beginning and an ending.
We have been held up in our flat for three weeks with
no ending in sight, next week it is said or perhaps the week
after that, if we are indoors long, we will get agoraphobia
and unable to leave the flat
Fearful of the world outside full of people and automobiles
agoraphobia is not a joke I have suffered from it on and off.
Once I stayed on board a tank ship for six months not leaving
the ship once I was saving money for further education
I needed help to walk down the gangway.
Once in Liverpool, I had another attack unable to leave the house
but I got help by a psychologist who lured me on a bus trip,
he was going to wait for me after four stops; he wasn’t there
I had to walk home among a throng of people
So, it might happen again because I tended to prefer
loneliness.
Writing my own ticket…
a coupon from the past
The numbers all decoded,
my gate approaching fast
Walking down the gangway,
my seat by fortune cast
The pilot sitting next to me
—the flight plan mine at last
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
broken mirror
The ship has gone sailed without me,
alone in a hotel room
I sweat and try to stop my hands
from trembling; where are
all my friends that drank with me in the bar.
They fired me threw me ashore
the bastards;
dignified
Walking down the gangway,
Cheap suitcase
two fingers in the air hiding
My tears
I have to leave this room,
must walk tall, I’m tough
that right, butut first
I need a little drink or two.
Gently, gently; bridal queen,
One step gently then another;
Worldly path is pebbles infested.
Gently, gently; beautiful bride.
At the gangway are the jolly builders
Who with their strength moulded you
To the beautiful bride you are today
They sing now and wish you well.
At the starboard is the futurity
Where for long you are the aspiration
So happy they are now to take you home
Happy you are today a delightful freight.
At the centre now is the two in one couch
The bride and groom are henceforth one
You are today and forever wedded couple
In sun and in rain, in light and in the shade.
In the rear are your years of childhood
When you were a baby girl in mama's laps
And a tender pupil in your teacher's hands
When you were a nod on the flower's stalk.
Lift your veil now and look at the front
The horizon in the fore is womanhood
May it be well with you in motherhood
Bear fruit of peace, joy and happiness.
Farewell bride; may your voyage be calm.
Light of heart, and with dancing eyes,
I gripped my Johnny’s strong right arm
And faced a swelling sunlit sea
As we sailed out from Stornoway.
Farewell to maples, loons, and John.
My yellowed wedding gown lies curled
Beside my beau beneath the sod
Sixty-five years from Stornoway.
Across the gray Atlantic sea,
A locket held my heart’s two loves:
His gold ring and a heather sprig,
As I sailed home to Stornoway.
With watery eyes and baggy cheeks
Gently caressed by cooling wind,
I walked the gangway, cane in hand,
And left my ship in Stornoway.
On rocky bluffs, hard by the sea
Where rest my Dad, wee Joe, and Mum,
An ancient stranger I am now
Returned at last to Stornoway.
Just one more prayer, sweet Lord, to Thee:
Bless me, please, with some swelling seas
And heather scents on fine spring days
At rest, at last, in Stornoway.
Mary Marion Williams, is one of twenty three,
rescued and surviving the North Atlantic sea,
Fate is a fickle friend, to have upon your side,
For if destiny is written, there’s no need to have a guide.
Mary believed in fate, so had no fear at all,
when on that dreadful night,the steward gave a call,
“abandon ship, we’re sinking” he rapped outside her door,
Then suddenly ,an explosion threw her to the floor.
She did in no way panic, Just picked herself up and dressed,
Paused for a moment, to root inside her chest,
she was struggling up the gangway,as the ship began to list,
Fate again was there to help, when someone grabbed her wrist.
Do not worry ma’am, a voice above her cried,
I am not, she said I know I'm safe, for fate is on my side.
she was helped to a lifeboat, by a member of the crew,
and looking round, she found she’d joined,the other twenty two,
Fate took a hand again,for our lucky ladyship,
She was picked up the very next day, by a Royal navy ship,
Who just by chance or maybe fate,
Happened to be passing, upon that very date.
This poem is a work of imagination, any likeness to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
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