Long Guernica Poems

It was September 
Of one thousand 
Nine hundred seven
The end of summer
With apples lying thickly
Under the apple trees
And the smell of Autumn
Covering the grass
Filled with ripe yellow
And orange squash
He was born in a little
Wooden house...

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In times of a virus spreading its unruly truths I wonder why

	What matters most seems to be toilet paper

Loops and loops of the stuff and people care about their bum

Three ply of course because thin...

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‘Fragments and crumbs of life, all the little pieces’
                          ...

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There are things, Gaëlle, that are pretty good
Say hello to her mom every day,
Say hello to the nice weather vane,
Listen to the trains in the countryside,

There are things Gaëlle, that are so nice
Photograph the Statue...

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when Animal Farm is not a feeding manual

and Clockwork Orange strikes at midnight

Dali’s time piece warps under face value

and an eagle-eyed-cuckoo flies over its nest


beneath the cover of cotton candy clouds

she relieves herself into Magritte’s...

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Children of Guernica

Children of Guernica . 
 
In deserts of no mans land 
children play among the dead 
killer themes from killer kings 
what is the song they sing 
comes raining down in 
shrews of...

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Black and White Yoyage

Ying and Yang come to mind that wakes up in the morning
                   Harmony the...

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***Disclaimer: This is not so much a poem, as an exercise in stream of consciousness. I just sort of wrote what I thought about. Sorry if it makes little or no sense to anyone else....

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The first invisible hand I saw, was the hand that appeared 
in the banquet hall of the Babylonian palace, inscribing 
letters on the wall, with its fingertip, 

the letters, written by the invisible visible hand,...

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Led down from the tower
Head high and hands bound
Blindfold declined against the wall
Black square pinned to his heart
His eyes afire and shining
And he sang...

He sang of Caruso, Townes Van Zandt
Pavarotti, Bocelli, Mercury,
Carreras, he sang of...

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Pondering on Nirvana

The meditator mediates her thoughts meanders through
               confusion and the onslaught overkilled by oscillating storms

Nothingness emptiness detachment as she...

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I've heard it said that if all the people 
who ever lived and died, were buried together, 
it would fill the size of Spain.

No gazpacho, no El Greco 
No Flamenco and no Bolero
Just row upon...

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Once and forever upon infinite times it seemed the
                        maze of shattered...

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He had taken the last train to Stalingrad. ´Join the Army and see the World´. 

The track of events unfolded when the tank chains came off. His brother had 

bombed Guernica with the Condor Legion,...

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did Picasso dream up Guernica
while taking a *****& did Van Gogh
fantasize about Starry Night whilst
draining the lizard?  how about 
Pollack---though we have been 
told via Ed Harris’ film (the only
art history anybody has anymore)...

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It is hard to walk in the sand especially with boots and a heavy rifle. 
Manuel and I would sit on a rock and watch the moon give birth to 
a distant blue Africa.
Franco's Guardia...

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Grenfell tower 
ruptures the horizon, 
London's skyline is scarred
like a blackened diplodocus 
or a charred monument
for a laconic London bridge 
still burning

But look, 
linen wraps its iron-bones
mumifying the city's underclass-
an icon for future generations 

oppressively,...

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Rough Landscape

In my mind the landscape of Guernica features high on the many
crowbars to unmask that inner prison of conscience and humanity

So many scenes of destruction with no predominant hierarchy of evil
no glass ceiling of...

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“Look carefully and see if there could possibly be pain like my pain, like the one bestowed by You upon me.” – Lamentations 1:12

I walk the width of 2000 pound bomb crater in the densely...

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exploding in the dark
flames in the peaceful
souls.. terror
spreads like cholera
war is crime
no justifications
we are brain washed
methodically
wailing lady fleeing
aborted foetus of peace
solitary child flaccid neck
contorted body dead or alive
we dont know anything
we just pretend

cubistic head of...

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The Bucket List

Things considering before the pail is fully on empty 

He ponders through travel brochures in his mind

Engages embraces envelopes the mantle of peace


Bungee jump Taj Mahal and Guernica safe in the bag

Umbilical chord...

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Is it the light
    that long    high fluorescence?
Or    is it the half-light?
Why am I so dizzy?

Or    was it the Sleeping Gypsy
  ...

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April 26th, 1937,
There came a day, when some would see Heaven.
The light shine above the heads,
To resemble the sparks of the bombs threads.

Mothers with their children,
Running out of the burning building.
German and Irish planes,
Flying above...

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