oh to have been a hippy

all hair

patchouli

poor hygiene

string haired girls

eyes wide

to the next horizon

& that chance to travel

Istanbul across the bosphorous

journeying to the east

finding everything anew

of thousands of years old

the riches

treasures

then open

derided

as old

not new

to the western view

now hidden from our eyes

destroyed

by wars created

religion

opium

oil

they went

they saw

& came back

powerless

to prevent

any of this from happening

oh to have been a hippy

visiting timurs tomb

on long old silk roads

trodden by thousands

feet

years

smelling just so

to return

to who cares

why bother

knowing

there was

is

a different

better world

over that horizon

marco polo’s edit

You meet them

everywhere

hail fellow

well met

to

share a bottle

sage meal

of whatever is local

cheap

for

you are forever

of

Bedouin

Viking

Traveller

Crusader

blood

you must tell

a good tale

in this company

or be lost

in the flicker flame

of poor story

thin fare

nothing learnt

the

these were

also on the road

lost in

chaucers

marco polos

edit

 

after midnight

What if I were to knock

on your door

late one night

what horror

might you guess I bring

would our friendship

hold true?

& you who promised

never ending love

does that seem right

past midnight?

now that we are

just friends

is it best I pass by

the end of your darkened street

or could there be

there

still a light

in the window

faint but glowing

for a friend

in need?

 

Alicante playas

What gets lost in translation

of playas

is

it is where mud meets the med

there is sand to be had

and chippings of plastic

dead food containers

sad flip flops

cigarette lighters

things other

that we would prefer

not to recognise

a place for old men to meet

discuss issues of their day

& the young flock to frolic

in the outflow from plush hotels

playas

when the sun don’t shine

it means

car park

So, then

each of us

is not to be

promethus

the hero of the day

yesterday

or

tomorrow

our fate

ordained

hurtling pell mell

to our own dead ends

racing thru’ blind mans curve

laughing as we ride

not for us

any

bright ability to affect history

tho’ we may understand it

hold clear heads

watch as it repeats

we are made as voyeurs

to recognise

observe

live out our segment

with pride

for only

the cracked actors

create influence

history has taught

this

us too well

 

i swear

I swear

my daddy long had the blues

not that he would ever

recognise those words

there were times

this lifted

& while those days were few

I never heard once

him sing

& there is the clue

he was laid low by a woman

never to get past

that get down betrayal

& looked to another

for soul deep care

& that too

never came true

he wasn’t the last man

to be killed

with the bad woman blues

don’t worry for looking

there will be another

along soon

At 14

you know
beyond belief
that everything
you have been taught
told to be truth
is a lie
all
you hold
has
no weight
and
no evidence
in the world
can convince you otherwise
at 41
you have the weight
the evidence
but still
nobody
is listening
you could shout
from the top
of a lofty hill
a low holding wall
the truth you know
to be so
giving details
into the slanting sun
& they will
laugh right at you
titter even
& walk on by
clinging tight
to the big lie

He’s gone loco

these days
wants to convince me
of how we should
all
live right
there’s a campaign
there is always
a campaign
a petition
a march
a protest
and if we don’t get behind
well
we’re all fascists
eh?
and there is always
a pull on our heads
to do this
get that right
a something to
get in the way
of living for you
healing
but no
we must walk this way
his way
and all I can think
is
if you are going to go
the full jesus
walk lightly
on the water
eh?