Warm water

‘…to Apphia our sister…’

(A prisoner,
On the basis of love)

I hang heavy weights on the thinnest wires
Not forced,

No longer a slave, better
To consider me a partner,

I own your very self.
And one thing more: Prepare

A guest room for me,
And my fellow prisoner – Aristarchus who

Implores I be what I am, and
Suddenly a man is leaking dust before me and,

I am no evangelist;

But in the smallest book in the Bible,
Men are settling war with warm water.

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Published in: on February 19, 2018 at 02:59  Leave a Comment  

Freedman

You are a Freedman, Slave
Don’t let it trouble you –

Death collects all,

And if everyone is born, with
Memories that fade,

Don’t let it kill you, this thought;
Homosexuals must die.

Published in: on February 16, 2018 at 12:36  Leave a Comment  
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Laughter

Put your hands under my thigh,
Immigrant,

You from the Eastern Peoples,
Come with the Shepherdess you call Rachel and water your sheep,

Sooth your bitter cry, Esau
You who sold your birthright for a bowl of stew,

You are not about to die,

The West’s intention is more evil than your own deceit, come
Mind not the bully with the swastikas painted on his back,

Mind not his girlfriend with the crooked teeth, fear
Not the politician with his fat briefcase,

Eat now you handsome man!
Your whole body like a hairy garment!

The smell of you is like the smell of a field,
So eat now,

Before the Policeman in Arkansas shoots you down.

Published in: on February 13, 2018 at 13:55  Leave a Comment  
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The Harlot and Herod

Joe made a few sounds,
And was gone,

He gurgled and was gone,

Racing across a moonlit sky, leaving
Puffs of smoke;

Little white markers, like a string of pearls –

Each pearl a landmark, an
Exclamation,

Here I did this, and
There, said that, I

Sense him in dreams now,
Covered in light and green smoke, and

I listen to his tales of dragons and fury,
And madams and God,

I take notes on how,
I too,

Can die.

 

 

Published in: on February 8, 2018 at 20:23  Leave a Comment  

Without borders

Work is out-sourced or,
Completed quickly,

– even for slaves –

The rest of life happens anyway, as if
Travel is free across the Earth,

People ferrying gifts for other earthlings,
And taking gifts themselves, and

Nations who visit violence on their citizens will not understand when,

Aliens arrive,
In their cars;

Who is the human,
And who the State or;

There are masses of molecules shifting through Earth’s atmosphere, that
Have the ability,

To be conscious,
Enough to,

Look after the whale, and

Not demand that the whale,
More intelligent,

Look after them or –

The starving Sudanese,
Crossing the border,

Earthlings will be eaten.

Photo – personal

-short evocative poetry-

Published in: on January 23, 2018 at 16:17  Leave a Comment  
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Encouragement

Encouragement happens when we look for it,

And give it,
In turn, it

Happens when we are not looking for it, when
We do not need it, yet

We do, it
Is soft and delicate and yellow,

Mellow on the face of a lover,
The,

Face of the receiver.

Published in: on January 18, 2018 at 13:23  Leave a Comment  
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Then the land had rest from war

My Gardener is enthusiastic.

He kills all the weeds in my garden,
Sweating conviction,

In purple droplets,
Muscles wet,

In the midday sun, he
Slaughters them,

My perfect weeds I spent so long cultivating,
Black,

And whites ones,
Jewish and Muslim,

Mayhem.

Now the name of Hebron formerly was Kiriath-arba.
(Arba was the greatest man among the Anakim.)
And the land had rest from war;

But –

My gardener has turned into a terrorist, and
My weeds are no longer safe.

-Joshua 14:15-

gay israel muslim christian terrorism

Photo Gay Israel on Pininterest

-short evocative poetry-

Published in: on January 1, 2018 at 14:09  Leave a Comment  
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Just do it

No one lingers on open ground in Syria,
And the buildings are silent.

The young man steadies his hand and shoots again.

It is Christmas Eve, and his
Yellow T-shirt – Just Do It – is his only reminder,

Of normal people,

And Christmas stockings,
And of his mother.

His brown Uncle says he is fighting for his niece,
His manhood, but
The woman who shot,

In his direction fully clothed was fully,
Female,

Fully functional.

The bombs have destroyed all the buildings and the shooting,
Almost everyone,

And,
The meaning on the T-shirt is not his, but

He takes aim and shoots again.

Published in: on December 25, 2017 at 10:01  Leave a Comment  
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The smell of new curtains

It came from the right side like God, or a deer, a

Migraine warning;
Chemotherapy strikes at any time.

Where am I going wrong?

Under community skies and red roofed buildings, immaculate
And unfinished,

Holding on for next week’s rent,
Even if you were alive,

I’d not have listened,

Missing a father to say what’s wrong
In his opinion,

Old enough how,
To hear sterner words in music,

To understand that the clinic serves Japanese-Americans and Kenyans alike,
On the dusty Main Street of the farming village,

The dusty, ochre-coloured Main Street covered,
With maize drying, and

Women slipping from bus-stop to bus-stop with children in their hair, that was
Probably,

Paid for,
By a man with a plan – the clinic,

And mum’s words,
Soft and gentle and supportive,

And different from yours;

I can take it now daddy,
Where did I go wrong?

I can make things right now,
The deer came from the left.

And whilst hindsight works in accidents we do not see coming,
At least Cancer gives us time.

Published in: on November 18, 2017 at 00:25  Leave a Comment  
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Snatching Time

She left without saying goodbye and you,

Have no more time, no
Early morning breakfasts, no

middle-of-the-night-fights,
Gone and now you must choose,

To give hope faster.

-Photo – Personal-

-short evocative poetry-

Published in: on November 6, 2017 at 16:36  Leave a Comment  
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Parade

They paraded before him in,
High-heeled shoes and,

Dangerous blouses,
Then,
Jesse, with the strong arms, and the

High chest,
Called Abinadad of the desert lands,

Furry legs and all, and
Had him pass in front of Solomon,
But, Solomon said
Not this one either,

And the rest of the parade, each

With their own,
Bursting muscles,
Were rejected also, but

One was chosen,
With fine feet.

♦Photo – Personal♦

-short evocative poetry-

Published in: on September 14, 2017 at 11:06  Leave a Comment  
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Shoes

Shoes make the world go round,
Steady shoes,

Come home,
Stilettos,

Come sweet,
Yellow,

High heels,

Carry intention,
Fresh,

Stride,
Steady shoes,

Sure shoes,

Move,
The man in front, sure

Move the world,
Brogues,

Sure,

You can ask the time,
Leather loafer, certainly

Have my number,
Gazelle in yellow.

-short evocative poetry –

Published in: on August 31, 2017 at 17:01  Leave a Comment  
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