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On The Beach
Plenty of fresh airTo blow away the cobwebsSign says, “VACANCIES” ~ n.b. NaPoWriMo 2024 Day 7 prompt :Postcard. I dug this card out of the archives. CLP 07/04/2024 →
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On Ukraine
It’s not over yetCitizens of Kharkiv runMachines need not sleep ~ n.b. Six killed by Iranian manufactured drones overnight we are told. Funny, we are not told who makes the drones that kill women, children and aid workers in Gaza. CLP 06/04/2024 →
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on truth
war’s first casualtythere can be no dishonouradmit: I don’t know ~ n.b. Another murderous attack on the innocent. Irrespective of nationality, religion, or politics, how can anyone profit from such intended slaughter? We can trust the body count, the bereaved families, the wounded to account for their losses, but who, or what else? This is →
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on Ukraine
it’s drone versus droneand rocket against rocketuntil one runs out ~ n.b. The battle in the skies, unmanned weapons cancelling out unmanned weapons, can only last for as long as both sides armouries are matched. Economies of all supplying countries enjoy a war bonanza while these two grind out a war of attrition. CLP 15/03/2024 →
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on Ukraine
We are too busyDrones directed from laptopsAlt+Ctrl+Delete ~ n.b. Two years into this war, which was years in the making, is a boon for the drone manufacturers in Iran, the UK and everywhere, eventually it will be about manpower that cannot be re-booted. “For now we are too busy to suffer from traumatic feelings. We →
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on meeting Jesus
I met Jesus todayThe same as me he saidWhen I told him my name is ChrisHe had to take his broken teethTo get them fixed at the dentist ~ n.b. In Spain Jesus is a common enough given first name in Roman Catholic families. This Jesus and I met while enjoying an afternoon drink. He →
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on making wine
she knew time was ripehe applied honest muscle pressing engagement ~ n.b. From the heart of Mallorquin wine country. CLP 27/02/2024 →
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on Ukraine
Not just today pleaseAnniversaries omitThe day-to-day grind ~ n.b. Two years. Some marriages don’t last that long. Mother Russia, can you not see the line of caskets stretching back two years? Can you not hear the grieving mothers‘ cries filling the graveyards of your land? All this for what? Call your sons home. Offer them →
Journey of Words 