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on peace (i)
the room falls silentafter the big guy smashes theold clown in the moutha few customersnear the exit exiteveryone else looks to their drinksthe big guy turns roundseeking validationhe says, “I warned him”“Aye, ye did.” says the bar room lawyerA few concur with a nodonethen anotherpick up the loose threadsof their abruptly interrupted conversationssoon all are →
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at Summer Solstice
pause to catch the rayscelebrate the height of lightwe live in cycles~n.b. Yesterday, in Northern hemisphere. CLP 220/6/2025 →
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on ignorance
What is going on?curiosity demandssome satisfactionin face of mistrustwe search for explanationwhere sunshine is absentisolated homesfamilies divided by techpreclude discussionwe’re left to join dotsif A is C and B Zwe write our own truths~ CLP 19/06/2025 →
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at the gymnasium
WOW! Look at those gunsWhen you gonna use them, boy?I mean, what’s the point?~n.b. Too much power, too big an arsenal, too many guns, aircraft carriers, tanks, fighter jets, bombers, drones, missiles. They were never going to just sit in a shed. Old men with nothing to lose…how does this happen? CLP 17/06/2025 →
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on peace
what in Hell is going on in the Unholy Land?Who The Devil is in charge?The Demonocracy has Trumped democracyHistories are being spunLies are being spunMy head is spinningI’m getting dizzyThe Earth spins on~n.b. The attack on Iran is by extrapolation an attack on the peace-loving citizens of Israel who must now be prepared to take →
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on the Moon
Hey!it’s turned to amberslow downproceed with cautionbe alertprepare to stopfrom the north-side of Lac Lemanlooking southto winter’s last refugethe Alps are obscuredby a scarf of smokethat is slowly curlingaround Earth’s necklike a pythondriven from the forestby fireCanada turns to charcoalthe full Moon flickers on amber~n.b. That mist on the lake, I assumed was heat of →
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Ghosts
It takes years for them to take formFrom memories confused with memoriesA head-scarf, the style of hairA coat, a manner of talkingA snatch of laughterThe balance when walkingThrough the market stallsOn the air, a scentA melodyWhen night takes hold its betterWhere they inhabit is not so clearIn shadows casts by street lightIn restaurant cornersAnd closed →
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on Ukraine
In 1948, Steinbeck in A Russian Journal wrote of the Ukrainian people:They spoke anxiously of war, they had so much of it.Our towns are destroyed alreadywhat more can it do?We will defend ourselvesin the snowand in the forestsand in the fieldsWhat was a moment in historyis now a way of lifeWhat is the prizethese invaders →
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on Ukraine
Punch, counter-punchStab, thrust, bombAll the mothers knowLottery of life and deathHolds them at knife-pointIs this the final dice rollOr just another false dawnA fake news dayEdging then along until they hearThe boy’s key in the lockOr the postie’s fateful knock~ n.b. And so it goes on, more vicious by the day, more so by night. →
Journey of Words 