My Argentinean Sojourn
I left my ship in Buenos Aires wanted to buy a horse
cross the pampas climb the Andes, into Chile, I had
paid for the horse and took a picture of it too when
a revolt came a junta of generals had taken it upon
themselves to save the country, and since I was not
one of them I was sent packing back to Europe.
Forty years ago now, bet the horse is gone, or some
bits of it can be found in old tins of dog food; still got
the picture though, it’s faded but shows I could have
been an adventurer if it hadn’t been for the officers
hell bent on playing with their many toys and saving
the myth of endless parades, military bands and flags.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
august mystic
August Mystic
Sunlight flooded through the open window
it filled every room till I swam in light and
had to seek refuge in a troll’s shady tavern.
Towards evening the light surged back to
the horizon, left my landscape to gasp alone
in a night that had eradicated tall mountains;
till moon pushed aside clouds and bathed
skeletal trees and dead flowers in layers of
silver that dripped and became shiny lakes.
Sunlight flooded through the open window
it filled every room till I swam in light and
had to seek refuge in a troll’s shady tavern.
Towards evening the light surged back to
the horizon, left my landscape to gasp alone
in a night that had eradicated tall mountains;
till moon pushed aside clouds and bathed
skeletal trees and dead flowers in layers of
silver that dripped and became shiny lakes.
august mystic
August Mystic
Sunlight flooded through the open window
it filled every room till I swam in light and
had to seek refuge in a troll’s shady tavern.
Towards evening the light surged back to
the horizon, left my landscape to gasp alone
in a night that had eradicated tall mountains;
till moon pushed aside clouds and bathed
skeletal trees and dead flowers in layers of
silver that dripped and became shiny lakes.
Sunlight flooded through the open window
it filled every room till I swam in light and
had to seek refuge in a troll’s shady tavern.
Towards evening the light surged back to
the horizon, left my landscape to gasp alone
in a night that had eradicated tall mountains;
till moon pushed aside clouds and bathed
skeletal trees and dead flowers in layers of
silver that dripped and became shiny lakes.
Monday, May 11, 2009
old lovers
Old Lovers
If I tell you I love you I do so of self interest
but being with you is better than being alone
so I tell you lies every day and I see your
smile, which warms my heart and I think how
lucky I’m to have found you.
I know very well that had I told you the prosaic
truth you would have been so disappointed and
I hate to see you cry, because you’re the only one
I have met who do not tell me how to behave,
what suit to wear, and I adore you for that.
I know you like to go dancing dressing up and
all those things, and I go with to art places and
pretend to like what I see, but I’m watching you
because you look so lovely when talking about
these things and know I’m a lucky man
Here, the other day you told me we have been
together for fifty years and asked for flowers
but I laughed because time could not run that
fast, I pride myself to have a keen eye and you
look as sweet as on the day I first met you.
If I tell you I love you I do so of self interest
but being with you is better than being alone
so I tell you lies every day and I see your
smile, which warms my heart and I think how
lucky I’m to have found you.
I know very well that had I told you the prosaic
truth you would have been so disappointed and
I hate to see you cry, because you’re the only one
I have met who do not tell me how to behave,
what suit to wear, and I adore you for that.
I know you like to go dancing dressing up and
all those things, and I go with to art places and
pretend to like what I see, but I’m watching you
because you look so lovely when talking about
these things and know I’m a lucky man
Here, the other day you told me we have been
together for fifty years and asked for flowers
but I laughed because time could not run that
fast, I pride myself to have a keen eye and you
look as sweet as on the day I first met you.
observed when buying onions
Observed when buying Onions
The massive grey cloud on the sky looked like a tiger shark,
open jaw ready to strike it had one shiny eye, and tore off
a piece of heaven’s floor. I saw shocked angels running about
one lost his harp; it fell like a comet down to earth, and landed
with a thunder on the frozen wasteland of Siberia.
The shark had tried to eat more then it could possible swallow,
it fragmented with a limp bang and fell to ground as lumps of
rain. When I looked up again the hole on heaven’s floor, had
been filled in with fluffy clouds, but the angels evening choir
had to do without the harp’s sweet and lyrical tunes.
The massive grey cloud on the sky looked like a tiger shark,
open jaw ready to strike it had one shiny eye, and tore off
a piece of heaven’s floor. I saw shocked angels running about
one lost his harp; it fell like a comet down to earth, and landed
with a thunder on the frozen wasteland of Siberia.
The shark had tried to eat more then it could possible swallow,
it fragmented with a limp bang and fell to ground as lumps of
rain. When I looked up again the hole on heaven’s floor, had
been filled in with fluffy clouds, but the angels evening choir
had to do without the harp’s sweet and lyrical tunes.
the drumbeat of war
The Drum Beat of War.
Smoke came from the mountain pass troops marched to the border,
general mobilizing declared, the old spoke of wars of yore the young
stopped slouching and looked around for the enemy. Ministers and
king wore uniform, laws were passed against a fifth columnists and
against anyone who had a different opinion than the norm; although
many were arrested no one was tried. War cry had brought order from
the chaos of democratic peace.
The jingoistic fever lasted all summer. a good time for marching and
military parades, women wore flowers in their hair ready to kiss loved
ones goodbye. Fall rain, the north-westerly blew cold and war didn’t
happen, leaders congratulated themselves for winning the peace, and as
big snowflakes slowly fell so did our realisation that we open eyed had
marched into an open prison and could no longer travel anywhere, in
our country, without a passport.
Smoke came from the mountain pass troops marched to the border,
general mobilizing declared, the old spoke of wars of yore the young
stopped slouching and looked around for the enemy. Ministers and
king wore uniform, laws were passed against a fifth columnists and
against anyone who had a different opinion than the norm; although
many were arrested no one was tried. War cry had brought order from
the chaos of democratic peace.
The jingoistic fever lasted all summer. a good time for marching and
military parades, women wore flowers in their hair ready to kiss loved
ones goodbye. Fall rain, the north-westerly blew cold and war didn’t
happen, leaders congratulated themselves for winning the peace, and as
big snowflakes slowly fell so did our realisation that we open eyed had
marched into an open prison and could no longer travel anywhere, in
our country, without a passport.
...and sweet was my love
….And Sweet was My Love
I had met her in the town where I went to school,
about an hour train ride from my town. She was
very sweet and I had met her parents they lived in
a big house that had a bathroom, a novelty for me,
mind I used the public baths near my home.
A Saturday she came to visit my mother, who
didn’t say much, it was like she was feeling shy,
and didn’t offer us anything to eat, my girlfriend
and I went to the movie and when we came back
mother had gone to bed and left us to it.
I had to tell my girl that the sofa we sat on, was
my bed and that I used a sleeping bag; however
we had a spare woolly blanket, I put it over us
to keep warm. Side by side, if not by Sondheim,
we cuddled and fell youthfully asleep.
We awoke early I took her down to the railway
station so she could use its facilities, we also
breakfasted there, in silence, I had realised how
poor I was, she was shocked and wanted to go
home, and thus, forlornly a love affair ended.
.
I had met her in the town where I went to school,
about an hour train ride from my town. She was
very sweet and I had met her parents they lived in
a big house that had a bathroom, a novelty for me,
mind I used the public baths near my home.
A Saturday she came to visit my mother, who
didn’t say much, it was like she was feeling shy,
and didn’t offer us anything to eat, my girlfriend
and I went to the movie and when we came back
mother had gone to bed and left us to it.
I had to tell my girl that the sofa we sat on, was
my bed and that I used a sleeping bag; however
we had a spare woolly blanket, I put it over us
to keep warm. Side by side, if not by Sondheim,
we cuddled and fell youthfully asleep.
We awoke early I took her down to the railway
station so she could use its facilities, we also
breakfasted there, in silence, I had realised how
poor I was, she was shocked and wanted to go
home, and thus, forlornly a love affair ended.
.
Friday, May 08, 2009
the odium
The Odium
Dead roses in a vase on my desk I moved
them away and remembered seeing my
brother, through a door ajar, getting up from
his chair, open the drawer where my pipe
collections were, and break them one by one.
A strange smile played upon his lips, and
I said nothing, didn’t know he hated me so.
He was the one with many friends, he was
the one who sat in the middle of the room
telling jokes at my expense while I sought
the corners. When he died, the chapel was
full of his friends the spoke so well of him,
but I sat there dry eyed all I could think of,
was my bloody meerschaum pipes
Dead roses in a vase on my desk I moved
them away and remembered seeing my
brother, through a door ajar, getting up from
his chair, open the drawer where my pipe
collections were, and break them one by one.
A strange smile played upon his lips, and
I said nothing, didn’t know he hated me so.
He was the one with many friends, he was
the one who sat in the middle of the room
telling jokes at my expense while I sought
the corners. When he died, the chapel was
full of his friends the spoke so well of him,
but I sat there dry eyed all I could think of,
was my bloody meerschaum pipes
road works
Road Works
The loose pebbles off the road I picked
were cold and unwilling, but as they
warmed in my palm they thawed and
when I opened my hand they were sand
of time and told a story of a future strand
washed by swells of seas not yet born.
Life lines in my hands are mere blinks
when measured by cosmic seconds, yet
worriedly I asked: “shall I not be there
and witness a birth?” This silence, so
telling , is free of sentimentality, but it
whispered about blameless eternalness.
The loose pebbles off the road I picked
were cold and unwilling, but as they
warmed in my palm they thawed and
when I opened my hand they were sand
of time and told a story of a future strand
washed by swells of seas not yet born.
Life lines in my hands are mere blinks
when measured by cosmic seconds, yet
worriedly I asked: “shall I not be there
and witness a birth?” This silence, so
telling , is free of sentimentality, but it
whispered about blameless eternalness.
winter of discontent
Winter of Discontent
It was a bitterly cold time, 1949, coal was dear we had to
let the fire die out at night, killer frost lurked everywhere.
The harbour froze over and in the morning frost smoke
filled the town like a ghost seeking deadly vengeance.
In the morning there was partly dried blood on the knee
of my long underwear, mother said I had to wear them to
school as she didn’t have a spare once; my whole being
shock in repulsion. At school I took them off threw them
away…and it was unbearable cold without them on.
Mother scolded me for throwing good underwear away,
just for a drop of blood. I insisted on sleeping on the floor,
in the morning I had fever, doctor came, pneumonia; and
I was sent to hospital. When mother visited, she tried to
kiss me but I turned my face away, she looked hurt, but at
that moment I hated her for what she had done. When I came
back from hospital, the frost had eased and given way to
a shy spring, but I insisted on sleeping on the floor. I never
kissed mother again except when she lie dying, but when
I bent down to kiss her, on the forehead, she turned away
It was a bitterly cold time, 1949, coal was dear we had to
let the fire die out at night, killer frost lurked everywhere.
The harbour froze over and in the morning frost smoke
filled the town like a ghost seeking deadly vengeance.
In the morning there was partly dried blood on the knee
of my long underwear, mother said I had to wear them to
school as she didn’t have a spare once; my whole being
shock in repulsion. At school I took them off threw them
away…and it was unbearable cold without them on.
Mother scolded me for throwing good underwear away,
just for a drop of blood. I insisted on sleeping on the floor,
in the morning I had fever, doctor came, pneumonia; and
I was sent to hospital. When mother visited, she tried to
kiss me but I turned my face away, she looked hurt, but at
that moment I hated her for what she had done. When I came
back from hospital, the frost had eased and given way to
a shy spring, but I insisted on sleeping on the floor. I never
kissed mother again except when she lie dying, but when
I bent down to kiss her, on the forehead, she turned away
chair person
The Chair Person.
The woman, who was chairing the meeting, wore a flowering
dress of an expensive material, she wore much gold and with
her tan she looked almost like a rich gipsy lady only less elegant.
It wasn’t that she was very fat but her lips where huge, too red
and octopus greedy and her fingers, when resting on the table
looked like guillotined, corpulent men, blood still dripping and
when lesser charges shared it looked as she mentally hurried
them on so she could speak.
There was something insincere about her, maybe she didn’t
have problem, but this was the only place people tolerated her.
Beautiful summer evening windows open, I heard bird song,
sun was setting into an azure sea. at home I had a cold bottle
of white wine waiting. Must have dreamt there was a grave
silence in the room, I looked up the woman was glaring at me
waiting for me to share something, I looked up to the roof and
counted the beams and thus the meeting ended
The woman, who was chairing the meeting, wore a flowering
dress of an expensive material, she wore much gold and with
her tan she looked almost like a rich gipsy lady only less elegant.
It wasn’t that she was very fat but her lips where huge, too red
and octopus greedy and her fingers, when resting on the table
looked like guillotined, corpulent men, blood still dripping and
when lesser charges shared it looked as she mentally hurried
them on so she could speak.
There was something insincere about her, maybe she didn’t
have problem, but this was the only place people tolerated her.
Beautiful summer evening windows open, I heard bird song,
sun was setting into an azure sea. at home I had a cold bottle
of white wine waiting. Must have dreamt there was a grave
silence in the room, I looked up the woman was glaring at me
waiting for me to share something, I looked up to the roof and
counted the beams and thus the meeting ended
the ancient profession
The Ancient Profession
Now that prostitution in Norway, has been outlawed
those who turn tricks have to work harder than before,
some of them dress grandmotherly, wait at a crossing
for a man to help them over, and the where and when
are agreed upon. Authentically older women too have
been agreeably surprised never thought they were
going to be touched by a man, and they are not going to
tell. Alas all good things must come to an end, the law
is recruiting pensioned policewomen who do not fear
to go all the way to catch their man.
Now that prostitution in Norway, has been outlawed
those who turn tricks have to work harder than before,
some of them dress grandmotherly, wait at a crossing
for a man to help them over, and the where and when
are agreed upon. Authentically older women too have
been agreeably surprised never thought they were
going to be touched by a man, and they are not going to
tell. Alas all good things must come to an end, the law
is recruiting pensioned policewomen who do not fear
to go all the way to catch their man.
pandemi and paintor
A Painter and the Pandemic
An old lady in our village died last night… flu,
but since it was not the swine variety no one took
notice, the world press will not come here, we’ll
not see our houses on the TV. There are many
disappointments, Amazon floods, many dead, alas,
not from The Flu, survivors can sit on mud banks
without face masks, and wait for all we care.
Gauguin cut Van Gogh’s ear off, at a whore house,
then he went off to Hawaii painted native girls with
big bosoms and flowers behind well formed ears.
Now we know why. A pity none of the women who
worked there, didn’t write down their memoirs, so
a relative could proudly announce that my great, great,
great grandmother knew them both.
An old lady in our village died last night… flu,
but since it was not the swine variety no one took
notice, the world press will not come here, we’ll
not see our houses on the TV. There are many
disappointments, Amazon floods, many dead, alas,
not from The Flu, survivors can sit on mud banks
without face masks, and wait for all we care.
Gauguin cut Van Gogh’s ear off, at a whore house,
then he went off to Hawaii painted native girls with
big bosoms and flowers behind well formed ears.
Now we know why. A pity none of the women who
worked there, didn’t write down their memoirs, so
a relative could proudly announce that my great, great,
great grandmother knew them both.
angst
Angst on the High Seas.
I used to wake up at four, just to savour the two hours before
I had to open the cabin door and go down to the galley and
speak to people I didn’t like, make coffee and prepare breakfast.
Then a ten minutes break resting in my cabin, back down and
hearing the crews, inanities while making dinner, knowing that
between 13-15 hours, I would be safe from them in my cabin.
Two days more and the ship would dock in New York, I knew
of a club, uptown, where sailors didn’t dare to go; there I could
spend all night listening to Ella, dream and not have to speak
anyone and gathered strength to endure weeks in company of
gossiping small town Norwegian seamen, as my ship sailed
through the Panama Canal and to the beautiful Pacific Ocean.
I used to wake up at four, just to savour the two hours before
I had to open the cabin door and go down to the galley and
speak to people I didn’t like, make coffee and prepare breakfast.
Then a ten minutes break resting in my cabin, back down and
hearing the crews, inanities while making dinner, knowing that
between 13-15 hours, I would be safe from them in my cabin.
Two days more and the ship would dock in New York, I knew
of a club, uptown, where sailors didn’t dare to go; there I could
spend all night listening to Ella, dream and not have to speak
anyone and gathered strength to endure weeks in company of
gossiping small town Norwegian seamen, as my ship sailed
through the Panama Canal and to the beautiful Pacific Ocean.
the suitor
The Suitor
Uphill I walked it was still dark, had to be at
the farm a five and milking time. Hard westerly
wind makes the climb tough soon the cattle will
be mooing in their pens, the boss grumpy, I’m
hungry and no time to eat; milking eight cows
by hand is no joke. End of the last hill I see
the farm, there is light in the kitchen,
Emma, my dog, barks, stops when she hears my
steps, ten to five, morning light I stop and catch
my breath, they are not going to think that I was
hasting for them I’ll have a quick mug of coffee
a slice of ham, just like any other day, they will
wonder and the maids whisper, but not ask where
and with whom, I spent the night.
Uphill I walked it was still dark, had to be at
the farm a five and milking time. Hard westerly
wind makes the climb tough soon the cattle will
be mooing in their pens, the boss grumpy, I’m
hungry and no time to eat; milking eight cows
by hand is no joke. End of the last hill I see
the farm, there is light in the kitchen,
Emma, my dog, barks, stops when she hears my
steps, ten to five, morning light I stop and catch
my breath, they are not going to think that I was
hasting for them I’ll have a quick mug of coffee
a slice of ham, just like any other day, they will
wonder and the maids whisper, but not ask where
and with whom, I spent the night.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
bird watching
Bird Watching
Two sparrows, on roof of my car, noisily chirped, five
more sparrows came, chirped too and showed no debate
culture, and then they flew off and left the couple to it.
One of them, I think he was the male, flew off and left
her alone, but not for long, he chirped more left again;
did this three times, finally she, I think it was a she, flew
off with him, but looking resigned. A drama had passed,
that I had seen and judged with limited understanding.
Bird dropping on the roof of the car, but think I had
witnessed a family drama, good as any seen on TV, and
as afternoon dramas must, had ended blissfully.
Two sparrows, on roof of my car, noisily chirped, five
more sparrows came, chirped too and showed no debate
culture, and then they flew off and left the couple to it.
One of them, I think he was the male, flew off and left
her alone, but not for long, he chirped more left again;
did this three times, finally she, I think it was a she, flew
off with him, but looking resigned. A drama had passed,
that I had seen and judged with limited understanding.
Bird dropping on the roof of the car, but think I had
witnessed a family drama, good as any seen on TV, and
as afternoon dramas must, had ended blissfully.
the scream
The Scream.
The new and young couple next door, for whom
all car adverts are made, came home late last night,
high voiced and full of spirit. Later on I heard her
cry out loud and thought: “wine, a man who slaps
his wife around when drunk.”
Next day I saw her in their cute little garden, she
wore the right outfit to prune roses, she smiled
called her hubby darling, it was then I remembered
that the cry, in the spasm of love, sound jarringly
like someone in throes of pain.
The new and young couple next door, for whom
all car adverts are made, came home late last night,
high voiced and full of spirit. Later on I heard her
cry out loud and thought: “wine, a man who slaps
his wife around when drunk.”
Next day I saw her in their cute little garden, she
wore the right outfit to prune roses, she smiled
called her hubby darling, it was then I remembered
that the cry, in the spasm of love, sound jarringly
like someone in throes of pain.
mandrake
Mandrake.
If you have what you need, food to eat and roof
over your head, the rest is frills and rude greed.
So now we hate bankers they offered us a dream,
endless credit never ending prosperity; they had
dream also to be the sages of their time, silk suited
men who had an answer to everything, of course,
they also wanted to be a little richer than you.
No one expect wisdom and cryptic words about
the economy, falling from bankers pale lips, but
wait, they have not gone away, easy credit will be
back and you can buy that ten bedroom room villa
we don’t need. Once again we’ll listen to bankers,
yes, you and I; just like them we have big dreams
and will go on believing in fairytales.
If you have what you need, food to eat and roof
over your head, the rest is frills and rude greed.
So now we hate bankers they offered us a dream,
endless credit never ending prosperity; they had
dream also to be the sages of their time, silk suited
men who had an answer to everything, of course,
they also wanted to be a little richer than you.
No one expect wisdom and cryptic words about
the economy, falling from bankers pale lips, but
wait, they have not gone away, easy credit will be
back and you can buy that ten bedroom room villa
we don’t need. Once again we’ll listen to bankers,
yes, you and I; just like them we have big dreams
and will go on believing in fairytales.
the flick
The Flick
The blond girl had turned her back to the beach
head in hand her guitar flung aside, I think she
was crying. A man walked his dog another one
jogged, birds in V shape flew towards the eye of
the twilight; and no scientist saw the weeping girl.
Night, on a strand of sand that faced the mighty
Pacific Ocean I so often had crossed on my way
to the land of the setting sun. A girl alone and me
on a beach of forget us not, I walked over to tell
her go home; the girl was a heap of golden sand,
her fine guitar was flotsam of a blue fishing boat
and her bikini a tattered plastic shopping bag.
The blond girl had turned her back to the beach
head in hand her guitar flung aside, I think she
was crying. A man walked his dog another one
jogged, birds in V shape flew towards the eye of
the twilight; and no scientist saw the weeping girl.
Night, on a strand of sand that faced the mighty
Pacific Ocean I so often had crossed on my way
to the land of the setting sun. A girl alone and me
on a beach of forget us not, I walked over to tell
her go home; the girl was a heap of golden sand,
her fine guitar was flotsam of a blue fishing boat
and her bikini a tattered plastic shopping bag.
the legend
The Legend
They are everywhere now, streets are full
of them, in cars looking out sniffing the air,
on the beach, in boats, splashing in lakes,
rivers, ornate ponds and swimming pools.
A dying breed, the Portuguese water dog;
then Obama came to the recue. Will he be
remembered, have his bronze statue erected
in every Iberian town square, for this?
They are everywhere now, streets are full
of them, in cars looking out sniffing the air,
on the beach, in boats, splashing in lakes,
rivers, ornate ponds and swimming pools.
A dying breed, the Portuguese water dog;
then Obama came to the recue. Will he be
remembered, have his bronze statue erected
in every Iberian town square, for this?
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