Pizza and Justice For All

Pizza Bum$

Here come the Americans

Here come the victors

Here comes the military

With their fast food restaurants

Here come the brutish troops

Colonial history freedom fighters

Where once were vegetable gardens

Now poppies fill the fields

Golden arches climb ever higher

Best intentions pave the road to hell

Pharmaceuticals and satellite screens

Building hospitals on rubble

Scattered across an abandoned African landscape

Strewn in crowded rice fields of Southeast Asia

A million leaflets fall as vapours in a cobalt sky

Ambition drops food packages of federal dreams

A life securely wrapped in bubbles

Everywhere the plastic remnant touches

Reflected in the tiny tint of childhood’s eye 

Tattered limbs grasping wooden crutches 

Baby reaches for a shiny metal toy 

Left behind in a littered schoolyard

A present from those blinded wealthy 

Another plaything in the money markets

Brushes dust from ragged trousers 

Blows his little hand away

The clinic crawling with journalists

Evangelicals trailing radar drones 

Distant pixelated photographs

Three columns inch forward 

Cold leftovers and morning news

Kellogg’s with a gallon jug 

Just another article on the table

Thanks to a pizza bum 

That came and went

In puffs of grimy desert smoke 

No reason to return again

His sister stands shocked in awe

Dried flowers at her feet

Beside a grave along a filthy road

Drops salty tears in the dust

Emigrates to the other side

 The far side of the world

Marries a Yankee Doodle

Heroes for the cause

A pregnant pause

Buys a Chevrolet

Fills it with gasoline

Orders the spare parts

Now she has her pizza bum

She studied hard her brother would agree

Learned that language and chemistry

To do her part for future history

Gives herself to a pizza bum

In small town Stateside dreams

Wishing to return all that friendly fire

He beat the prisoners

Pissing on them when they were thirsty

Swinging chains and barbed wire

As festooned coronas

Thinking with homecoming eyes

Of his wonderful childhood

Full of freedom’s promise and surprise

The love of a saviour with bleeding feet

And gentle ways of mom’s apple pie sermons

Right hand covers a heart dedicated to a flag

Slinging hook and dirty looks at poorer souls

Each raised him up on Independence days

Hearts and minds are set in stone

Cut into the bark of family trees

The roots of evil spread like disease

When there’s innocent death
Out on the street

A nightmare echoes screams

The sleeper awakes

Yawns remembrance

Pours herself a cocktail

Nitrogen and butane

Everyone’s drunk from the same source

It’s mineral water and faith

Now the well’s run dry

All that’s left to gather home

Among the absent elements

Lodged in bone and brain

Shrapnel and terror

Is another surplus fragment

Of her pizza bum

*     *     *

Happy Christmas War is Over and all that .. yet, somehow this seemed as relevant now as yesterday, perhaps it's just me, but isn't it about time we disposed of all the landmines, all the nuclear weapons and all the reasons to go around dropping bombs on people ..? Or, maybe it is just me .. salutations to another year of freedom and peace and justice all that .. Love.

Feed the World

This Little Grain of Rice

This little grain of rice

Matured through time

Could nurture a generation

Feed the world

This little grain of rice

Moist with healthy yearning

Cultivates injured landscapes

Spread across the earth by diffusion

Is welcome saviour to huddled masses

This little grain of rice

Buys guns and ammunition

Loads weapons with fuller bellies

Keeps troops marching over barren terrain

This little grain of rice

Sends men off to distant wars

Brings them home from killing fields

Nourishes those mighty dreams in children

This little grain of rice

Entices people to worship on knees

Build marble pillar gods

Isolates wits with ergot nightmares

Golden altars are built in homage to a granule

As men and women alike reach for the diminutive

That tiny moment of death that defines existence

This little grain of rice

Calmly awaits the tender storm

Sheltered with attentive conventions

Protected by a father’s stern warnings

Floats as cerise boat at the crack of dawn

This little grain of rice

Lifted from tiny plastic bags

Scattered as cathedral bells ring

Forms an umbrella over anxious brides

Becomes fertility symbol of marriage vows

This little grain of rice

Wrapped in thin defensive shield

Becomes the mother of our appetites

Once that succulent affection is released

From golden husk veiled in sweet essence

I rolled my tongue along its velvet pouch

Savoured the natural sweetness

Offering the flavour of hope

Invented a tasteful saccharine language

Left hungry for more

 This little grain of rice

Fertilised with love

Could have fed my world

Forever

*     *     *

Phantom Crews

Ghost Ship

She lives daily among the spirits of the past 
Crews boats along coasts of far forgotten islands

Pulls sails wide for strangers embarking on my dreams

The skeletons in her closet rattle memories

Old bones of dear departed assemble sculptures

Survey ghostly shadows as flesh and blood build dams

Playing a shanty tune on deserted decks for rum drams 
The one-eyed man navigates by orchestral winds

Silently he imagines hope to grant miracles

Hearts deafen the deathly rhythm from phantom drums

Existence flutters by watching diaphanous waves

Time never ceases for their shipwrecked life

*     *     *

Lil' Cherry Pie

Well-Endowed

 

I command my body

and offer flesh for truth

I control thought in my mind

belief is faith by honest proof

my soul can never be freely given

as like art this modest cherry tattoo

exists as memory of reasons for living

because my heart I forever endow to you

*     *     *

In Grand Style

Two Pianos

 

Two pianos sit idle in the corner of the room

Silent complements to gathering dust

Melodies once played by nimble fingers

Refrain commencing but for this mournful tune

Sunlight ripples across tarnished ebony veneer

Wire and winch bent and sprung so loose

Chipped ivory now appendages touch wood

Sounds of compositions none will ever more hear

Baby dreamt of one fine day to be fully grand
Superfluous chords will never again sing

Time takes toll on the sweetest of harmonies
Jingling keys locked the door on a practised hand

If these two pianos broken but learned with age

Could reverberate softly vibrato this air

A record of old songs they previously played

Hummingbird notes as once danced from the cage

The richness of creation an enchanting delight

Holds tranquil memories of fretful rehearsal

A childhood exhausted in front of sheet music

Torn snapshot moments forever in black and white

Days drag by toward their final evening’s glow

Slumbering stillness of an eloquent past

Damp and cold warped legs and glazed sheen

Wrinkled spine winters gone outside drifting snow

They occupied a place packed in antique ideals

Life itself enclosed in those wooden boxes

Lids now sealed heartfelt affair left unspoken

These two pianos that brought so much earlier joy

Will live in the heart after the pain of loss finally heals

*     *     *

*     *     *

Lazy Whispers

I Remember ..

You

Sadness

Happiness

Laughing alone

Wishing I were home

Tender midnight caresses

Diesel fumes in Glasgow rain

That hollow chime of distant bells

Rough grain of recently inked newsprint

A shadow crossing the path of two strangers

His warm hand clasping mine in genuine friendship

The rustle of dry leaves through a dense undergrowth

Spray of crashing waves along a secluded palm lined beach

Aroma of morning coffee breath that tastes of chocolate kisses

Cool water soaking through parched skin in the humid afternoon

Snow falling lightly across the pond on a crystal winter morning

Lazy whispers in a flowering field as honeybees gathered pollen

Fresh piquant sauces burning my throat with flaming chillies

Giving up dreams for a nightmare we once called home

That vacant gaze in the eyes of the inconsolable

Reading secret stories of ancient warriors

Praying for guidance in their garden

Walking in London after sunset

The smell of burning rubber

A deep blue in her eyes

Missing my children

Being thankful

Loneliness

Ecstasy

Me

 *     *     *

A Hopeful Kite

February

 A leaf of parchment

Scribbled with oaths

Words of worthless integrity

Blew from softened hands

A single dove

Fluttered carelessly

From the weakened grip

Of a chastened bride

Flew

Above the circling crowd

Lost itself amongst the shadows

Of gathering storm clouds

A hopeful kite

Of dramatic fragility 

 Caught a cruel wind

Loosened strings

 Freed old forget-me knots

Strew what memories remained

Across an anxious mass

Ribbons fell as butterflies

Seeking liberty

From tangled locks

Into the treacherous net

Your temperate bed

New with Monday dreams

Of eternity and frigid nights

As the breeze from the east

And the hard-boiled reality

Of the soft shell I tread upon

Paraded past

Hessian laughs

Dried ink dyed

Bubbled and cracked

Over barren time

Grew not

Within the womb

On another bitter day

In February

*     *     *

SAY IT IN ENGLISH!

Broken English

Hola merci elbette como estas the bag on my shoulder is still aquí

Marching to the beat of thirty thousand shoeless feet

My back is scorched the wind blowing as seasonal treat

Sucking lemons I tramp that beach to seek out local meat

Hungry as a beggar I wander aimlessly down a narrow street

Buenos dias s'il vous plaît ama truly dear seni değil biliyorum keen

Approaching a nearby produce vendor I point to the seat I wish
He nods in affirmation and smiles at my burgeoning visible anguish
While I try to decipher the scribbled menu board for a tasty local dish
Selecting several samples of a regional variety he thinks quite outlandish

Ciao mon amour glásnost' I’m uttering palabras in a helpless plea

I search for some useable currency in pouches and pockets
He shakes his head in consternation as the first notes he rejects
A mumbling typecast tourist I try speaking various unknown dialects
Looking dazed and confused dropping coins on a tray truly I’m perplexed

Un donero vielen dank no entiendo arkadaş what this could mean

Then laugh at myself too loudly because my voice echoes his projects

As his moustache wiggles while my tea swirls timidly in the glass

When he says unmistakably, “Friend, I can see your trouble

In this grand shopping arcade we call the outdoor market

But, we’re all modern here now everyone has a handle

On the ways of the world and its transition status

It really will be no big conversational scandal

If you make it easier for yourself today

When in Rome do as we Romans do

Your task you will accomplish

If you just go with the flow

Accept you don’t know

And say it twice in

Broken English.”

* * *

I Wanna Be George Clooney

I Wanna Be George Clooney

I don’t want to sell flowers on the street
I don’t wanna wear old saffron robes
Put plastic sandals on my feet
I don’t wanna sing songs under a tree
I don’t wanna be a spiritual Moonie
I wanna be George Clooney

I don’t wanna play football on a local team
I don’t want dry sand kicked in my face
Hope for a small town dream
I don’t wanna live in a tent by the sea
I don’t wanna be a guy who’s puny
I wanna be George Clooney

Star struck bum truck

Cleaning up the rich man’s muck

Hollywood Bollywood I’ll do whatever Dolly would

Flash car fast life

Alimony payment to my third wife

Uptown tinsel town I'll be a happy celluloid clown

I don’t want to be a man in an off the rack suit

I don’t wanna live in a suburban sprawl

Shucking corn for my daily loot

I don’t wanna beg on bended knee

I don’t wanna be a dust bowl Zuni

I wanna be George Clooney

I don’t wanna win a contested political seat

I don’t want to argue deals with lawyers

Vote on wars or take the heat

I don’t wanna enter a last minute plea

I don’t wanna be a raving loony

I wanna be George Clooney

*     *     *

Praising the Persian Pussy

Big Brown Eyes

Those big brown eyes
Those Persian eyes
Those big cat eyes
Glowing at me

Between her thighs

The Persian cries

From big brown eyes

Those glowing cat eyes

In the dark

Where she lies

Those big brown eyes

Smile at me

From unsealed lips

The stutter of cries

Tongue to the milk

Licks at silk

From in between

Those creamy thighs

The shuttered eyes

Those Persian eyes

Those dark cat eyes

Glow at me

Between the sighs

Of big cat cries

Those big brown eyes

Those stirring hips

The moistened lips

Between silken thighs
Those crying eyes
Those brown cat eyes
The big glowing eyes
The sigh from lips
That seal her cries
In opened eyes
Through shuddering thighs
Those Persian eyes
Those big cat eyes
Smile at me
Tell no lies
When I look up
From between her thighs
To gaze in to
Those big brown eyes


*     *     *

Dust In My Eye ..

Cherry Blossom

Our love is as the cherry tree

Whose flowers blossom a single day

A morning zephyr, tender

Casts the fragile petals loose to earth

Dust; their memory fades away

*     *     *

On the Back of a Postcard ..

Endless Love

A life without love .. Is a poet without words

A poet without words .. Is a body without spirit

A body without spirit .. Is a day without light

A day without light .. Is a flower without colour

A flower without colour .. Is a poem without verse

A poem without verse .. Is a rhyme without rhythm

A rhyme without rhythm .. Is a phrase without pulse

A phrase without pulse .. Is a text without heart

A text without heart .. Is a moon without sun

A moon without sun .. Is a heart without blood

A heart without blood .. Is a sea without water

A sea without water .. Is a word without reason

A word without reason .. Is a self without sense

A self without sense .. Is a sense without being

A sense without being .. Is a being without soul

A being without soul .. Is a soul without life

A soul without life .. Is a life without love

*     *     *

Something sweet to keep you going round and round until the carnival comes to town. Promises, promises, but the real question is .. ?

*     *     *

Hope of the Crusader

Battle Cries Tonight

The Crusaders marched from Rome

To build castles on the sand

Armies of messiahs

Draw the ancient bloodline of Abraham

Jesuits Zionists Sanhedrin and Ottoman

Across the dusty temple of far off Jerusalem

Not too far from where the weapons are made

Every franchise of faith proclaims its own brand

From back in those days when the trenches stank

Now a fading glory throughout the land

Armoured men huddled in tanks

Ordered to attack at the rising tide

No time to think of wrong or who’s right

They say He’s got the whole world in his hand

Sunni and Kurd or a secular humanist neophyte

It’s those same old Battle Cries Tonight

*

The Crusaders marched for peace in our time

From London to Moscow along the Rhine

Berlin to Paris democrats bang a post-colonial beat

Shaping a continent with a spectre close behind

Public handshakes private meetings

The camera’s glare the world stage

Leadership issues take a back seat

To making chirpy sound bites

On the morning’s front page

One world developing nations

Protected by mercenaries

To deliver freedom and dreams

And foreign translation

Rattling sabres and teacups

In media charade

From the diamond market

To the hookah arcade

Every model material girl’s
Delight

Diplomacy of a super power
Abroad

That’s the echo of Battle Cries

Tonight

*

The Crusaders marched for equality and rights

Social advantage votes and fair pay

Cash strapped digital marketing

A public opinion sample

We’re paying backhanders

Investment’s the game

To charm all the hustlers

With another long shot gamble

Casinos they’ll build

In rundown estates

Blackjack and poker

With neo-kamikazes and ravers

Every word spin dice roll of the Roulette wheel

With these old fascist

New labour

Anti-social behaviours

An imagined rising

Moral consciousness

Existing on the right side of

Knowhere man

As if there’s a line between

Black and white

Rich and poor economic divide

It’s more of those Battle Cries Tonight

*

The Crusaders marched for the environment

Renewable energy solar wind turbine schemes

Rockets and radar preserve the Earth’s health

In multitudes of movie disaster themes

Nuclear subs and Russian intervention

Off the Arctic melting snow covered shelf

We call in scientific experts and intelligence teams

To pore over the evidence with microscopes and laser beams

Organised government criminal prevention

Police want more cash and more iron cages

For animal activists painted like death

Who go on test tube rampages

The polar landscape shakes in a tremulous wake

As biomedical technology develops new pills for your aches

Those conservative family values

Hidden behind war games

Put our future at stake

With plutonium rich nations

We pick and choose

I don’t know how much more that I can take

Or realise how little I have left to lose

Against the threat of corporate might

Paving the way of the industrial machine

That’s the noise of Battle Cries Tonight

*

The Crusaders marched For global security

Media saturation against all the ills

Of hunger and poverty

Through renewable Carbon fuel cells

We queue to be Photographed

Fingerprinted

Eye scanned for posterity

And potential biological disease

While losing valuable Information

On a few loose CDs

Glass ceilings that lead to barred doors

Boys dressed as storm troopers

Landing on foreign shores

Looking for oil and water

And a few veiled girls

They’ll buy out and sell off as whores

In a mission that’s failed to ease their plight

When you hear the screaming children

That’s the sound of Battle Cries Tonight

*

The Crusaders Marched
Against a War on Terror

Burning Lamps in
The hopes Of a million Iraqis

Better hold on to your donkeys

And run with your asses

As India and China

Let missiles fly

On the nation

Of infidels and heathens who

Live in starvation

Hold on to your soul

Hidden beneath reflections of neon signs

Sit there in comfort counting blessings and gold

Hearing those old preachers and religious reverie

Through parables and prophets and these simple rhymes

Outside the howling wind of changes are warning of an early tradition

That remembers in wisdom verses and chorals of horsemen arriving

Blowing trumpets in four-part harmony from the highest of towers

Wailing in a startling fright

‘Wake up you sleepers’

Wonder in confused delight

Will it be you or could it be me

Or, would dare the mad men

Battle Christ Tonight .. ?

*     *     *

I wrote this piece a few years ago, although it stayed in rough form until recently. I read it at two different poetry meetings, for feedback and to get a better sense of the natural rhythm, and was pleased with the reception but not the work. It lacked focus and an innate cadence – I wanted a military march beat to it but also an offset rhyme – and it simply wouldn’t come together without serious editing. The structure and metre had to change dramatically, and though I felt the poem had merit I put it aside until I had more time.

In light of recent events, I considered adding a verse to read as, “The Cruise-aiders left from the port of Antalya in hope ..” or similar. However, that probably wouldn’t make the ‘message’ any stronger – only more immediate. Anyway, I hope you recognise the alternating rhythm patterns and enjoy the imagery of the words. I know the pics aren’t all great this time, I struggled to find the right shots and had wanted to create something I thought was better than adequate to develop a surreal counter balance to the text – I hope you find the effort worthwhile.

Oh, to save you the trouble of looking it up – the German magazine headline translates into English as: “The fallible; The failed mission of Joseph Ratzinger” (Pope Benedict XVI), or, Benny the Rat, as I like to call him.

*     *     *