274. future grandads

This blood-dripping
saddle says to me
that my lord
(the old bastard)
will possibly not
be cantering, cantering
home for tea

on spreading green swards
with a monkey-puzzle tree

because, in fact,
he's beastly dead.

He was a very silly
man, we can all agree,
and it was not, when you
come to think of it, such
a very bad thing that
he died in glorious battle
for the sake of family.

Dead as a doornail
fancy that.

We'll need to look
to the future
more or less
in which certain
things will happen,
not, perhaps, good
things, but, for the
moment, anyway,
I think, I half believe,
we are secure
among our loyal friends
and the usual plague
of greasy sycophants.

But but but
there is a danger still
that the whole damn
wobbly edifice
so haphazardly erected
by our drunken forefathers
will fall and crumble
and all will tumble
down
down
down.

I would vote
if we had elections
I would walk
if I had legs
I would salute
if I had arms
I would laugh
if my mouth
wasn't ripped
apart and covered
with bandages.

War is not so bad
not really
you can pick up
a few things
here and there
souvenirs
loot, cash
as long as you
don't get killed
or maimed
forever.

You have to
go your own way
have to wing it, baby
but isn't that
what we all believe?
leaving others
the civilians
the refugees
the emaciated survivors
to pick up the pieces
or fall down dead
so sorry, amid
a rubble of broken dreams.

Being young
helps, in a way, that's
what makes it work,
not having to think
when you drag out
the next screaming
prisoner. Kill em all
says the sergeant, guilty
and innocent alike, filthy
fuckin foreigners.
Kill em all: why not,
the sergeant said so.

You sit at home, but
democracy is a tough job

You sit at home, and
I envy you at times
I want to go to the Mall
I want to go to the movies
I want to drink in the smell
of a blonde-haired girl
or a brown-haired girl
or any sweet-smelling girl at all
while I clean and oil
my M-16, my deadly beauty,
my waking and sleeping
constant companion
and I know you know that
you can't do what I can do

I can kill people.

When I go home
I could work in a store
stacking shelves
but I think I'd rather
go to college instead,
I think I'd kinda like
to become a lawyer,
get myself a job
with the government:
they'll never admit it
but they owe me.

273. cyberlove (noli tangere)

down
the cool
slithering
corridors
the stalactites
of resentment
like sharp icicles
of uncertainty
thrust themselves
downwards
in rigid frozen
form //: from
the obscure
dis ... connected
dizzy heights
of gun-toting
gateway
secure communities
totally, totally
environmentally
protected
so that nothing
bad could possibly
ever happen
either now
or in the future
exists the thing
she thinks
he calls
his brain
or the thing
he thinks
she calls
her own.

272. Guns, Death, Politics & Murder

Steven Spielberg's film "Munich" has finally arrived at the DVD rentals in Japan. Spielberg has been labelled a "self-hating Jew" by the usual suspects for exploring the moral ambiguities of an assassination campaign.

Meanwhile, now and not 30 years ago, on the West Bank:

"Palestine has been so reduced and so humiliated that it is now a country where the Occupying force can walk into a main city at nightfall, can walk down the main street of that city and kill a man and then walk away again as if that is a damn right of theirs and no one is going to blink an eye at it.

"It is not their damn right to come and terrorize the people of a city night after night after night on some hyped up 'security' reason! This is no human being's right.

"I have been accused of not understanding how people are feeling on the other side of the Wall. People have written to me 'You don't know what it is like to be driving behind a bus when it explodes' and I say this is true. But I do know what it is like to see fifteen thugs walk down a main street of a city at nightfall and murder in cold-blood outside a family restaurant and then walk away again.

"I call that the worst kind of terror."

This is an eyewitness report. These targeted assassinations continue to happen on a regular basis. How long will it take before the Israelis understand they can't just stroll around and murder Arabs (subhumans) with impunity? They were surprised and indignant when Hizbullah fought back in August and killed about 120 Israeli soldiers. I am sorry for the young men who died but I can't find it in my heart to blame Hizbullah for resisting. They were fighting for control of their own towns and villages. Israeli troops invaded Lebanon, not the other way around. The home team wasn't doing anything wrong by fighting back and defending their own territory. In fact, good for them.

271. Elephants

Elephants cavorting
on the floor
could drive other dancers
to the door
because, perhaps,
they are somewhat large,
slightly larger, in fact,
than most Americans:
with delicate tact
they try not to barge
and step upon your toes.
God knows
you’d remember that
(a foot mashed flat)
as they politely strain
to stay with the beat
in spite of the pain
and pulsating heat
and not very much
in the way of feet.

Casual reporting
overlooks
the serious strands
of elephant thought:
their love of books
their modest demands.
They never catch fire,
not precisely,
assidiously self-taught,
they hardly require
adulation,
or congratulation,
but want to act nicely,
and politely.
Elephants are serious,
elephants are good,
elephants, understandably,
are misunderstood:
they eat plants, they step around ants,
and behave with perfect PC,
more thoughtful, in fact, than you or me.

Lions and tigers leave them alone,
they have never been beasts of prey:
they are dignified, large, and grey.
And there is this passing rumour
that they have a sense of humour,
they can chuckle at the inside joke,
and especially like the ones that poke
at politics and religion ... O what fun!
It may be true they weigh a ton
but they’re by and large a laid-back folk,
who mull over each and every decision.
Babar, as you may well expect,
is the only Elephant superstar,
he tingles their hearts, both near and far,
(“Le Roi Babar ” gets a lotta respect)!
Talking English is still quite new
dans le Centrale Afrique
so, therefore, only a very few
of younger elephants can speak.
Their elders chide them and repair
to discuss the plays of Moliere,
and trumpetting, rumpetting,
(thank God we’re off the dance floor)
tear apart Voltaire.

270. Kamakura

(Click on any picture to expand; use Back button to return to blog)

 

Last Monday (Aug. 21st), in the midst of the blazing and relentless summer heat that the country has been experiencing this year, we spent the day in Kita (north) Kamakura and Kamakura itself visiting a number of historical and rather famous Zen temples, including Engaku-ji and Shokozan (once known as the divorce temple, since women could take refuge here from abusive husbands).

 
 

These temples date from the period when Kamakura wrested control over the Japanese islands from the court in Kyoto (ca. 1194-1333) and although much renovated and rebuilt these temples still retain a direct link to those days when Zen (Ch'an) Buddhism was being introduced to Japan from China and when the two great Mongol invasions of the country were repulsed by huge storms -- the original "kami-kaze", or divine winds.

 
 
 

An expanded set of 30 photos may be viewed by going to kaboodle.

269. Lebanon -- what now?

As the belated UN Ceasefire goes into effect after five long weeks of war – and just how secure this ceasefire will be, one wonders – questions are being raised and answers sought not only among those who were directly involved in the conflict, but in government cabinet sessions around the world.

What will be the political results of this war? Who has lost, who has won? What do these events augur for the future of Israel and the Middle East in general?

In military terms the war has come to a temporary halt without a clearcut victory on either side. This counts as a de facto Israeli defeat since it was inconceivable not only to their US allies but to the Israelis themselves that the all-powerful and American-supplied IDF could be stopped in its tracks by a despised group of Arabic militants.

The war was allowed to continue as long as it did in order to provide time for an Israeli military victory. When initial Israeli attacks into south Lebanon met with stiff resistance the Israelis asked for more time to finish the job. The US and Britain (PM Tony Blair, if not his Labour Party) stalled on ceasefire negotiations to give the Israelis their chance. The additional time led to more Israeli casualties on the ground (and many more Lebanese civilian casualties from the air) but there was no noticeable improvement in the Israeli military situation. With world opinion growing ever more hostile the Israeli demands for more time could not be sustained indefinitely. An initial, one-sided, and deeply-flawed ceasefire proposal has now been replaced with something slightly, but not much, better. No doubt the young Israeli reservists who have been bearing the brunt of the difficult fighting will be quietly relieved. The angry perception of military failure, however, will lead to a political firestorm in Israel.

How will Israel react?

PM Ehud Olmert and Minister of Defense Amir Peretz

Prime Minister Ehud Olmert is definitely on the way out. Calls for his resignation have already been raised in the Knesset and it is highly unlikely he can long survive the political fallout from this war. Look for a bitter war of words in the Israeli press between civilian and military leaders as each side blames the other. If Olmert goes, which is almost certain, we can expect the sacking or perhaps pre-emptive resignation of the IDF Commander, Dan Halutz. Halutz, the first Israeli CIC from the air force, believed in winning wars from the air and was the architect of the devastating airstrikes on Lebanon which caused so many civilian casualties and which roused world opinion to a deafening chorus of outrage.

Dan Halutz, Israeli military commander in chief

Ordinary Israelis were astounded and angry at the world’s disapproval (after all, they had been getting away with murder on the ground for decades) and could not understand how they were suddenly losing the PR battle around the world. Lose it they did, and definitively so, in spite of the best efforts of the US media to mislead, as usual, the public at home. Not only in the Muslim world – which has few if any illusions about Israel – but also in places as far apart as China, Russia, South America, Africa, India, almost any country one might care to name, the Israelis were being seen on the world’s TV screens as brutal aggressors, murderers of women and children, heartless attackers of fleeing refugees and ambulances and aid convoys. It will take years, perhaps a generation, for Israel to expunge these negative images.

Lebanon and Hizbullah

Sayyid Hassan Nasrullah, leader of Hizbullah



Within Lebanon and the wider Arab world (indeed the Islamic world as a whole which embraces non-Arabic nations such as Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan, also Indonesia and Malaysia, large parts of India and the southern Philippines, not to mention large populations of Islamic emigrants in Europe and North America) Hizbullah comes out as a clear winner as does their charismatic and relatively young leader Hassan Nasrullah. Nasrullah is calm and shrewd and whenever he appeared on al-Manar TV during the crisis he avoided over-the-top emotional tirades and simply warned the Israelis that he would match their bombing attacks with more and more missiles and would possibly target Tel Aviv.

In retrospect, in spite of the loss of civilian lives in Israel (some of them Israeli Arabs with no bomb shelters provided for them to go to) Hizbullah rocket attacks on Israel were not an indiscriminate lashing out at the “Zionist” enemy so much as a measured response to the Israeli bombing of Lebanon. When the Israelis stopped bombing for a 48-hour period Hizbullah stopped sending over rockets. When the Israelis resumed, so did Hizbullah. The short-range Katyusha rockets don’t have the vaunted accuracy of smart bombs but it would appear Hizbullah was actually trying to go after military targets. BBC and CNN reporters in Haifa went on camera in shirt sleeves because the central city was relatively safe whereas their counterparts in Beirut and Tyre and the Bekaa Valley were all wearing flak jackets.

The Israelis have weapon factories and ammunition stores and military installations dotted around the whole northern part of the country as Jonathan Cook, a free-lance writer based in Nazareth has been trying to explain to everybody for the past few weeks but without much success. The Israeli complaint that the “cowardly” Hizbullah were hiding among the civilian population is entirely hypocritical given that the Israelis do exactly the same thing. Western reporters are prevented from mentioning the existence of military installations in the suburbs of Haifa, Nasiriyah and Nazareth under the draconian censorship rules that Israel imposes on foreign reporters – and which few of these reporters ever remember to mention.

What happens next?

Hizbullah has gained a great deal of respect within Lebanon. This can only add to their growing political influence. The dismissive image of Hizbullah as a Shi’ite militia has been replaced during the course of the war by a wider Lebanese appreciation of the role of Hizbullah as defenders of the country. This perception cuts across all the old sectarian divides. The Israelis were quick to claim (Netanyahu on the BBC Hard Talk program, for example) that the Lebanese Christians and Sunnis were cheering on Israel and hoping for a defeat of Hizbullah. This may have been partly true at the beginning of the war but it is totally untrue now. Even super-safe (supposedly) Jounieh, a Christian enclave north of Beirut, got pounded with bombs as did Sunni and Druze areas as the crazily arrogant and ultimately self-defeating Israeli air campaign went on. In their declared attempt to cut off Hizbullah weapon supply corridors the Israelis shut down the whole transportation and communications infrastructure of Lebanon. What was understood in the beginning as an Israeli attack on Hizbullah soon came to be perceived as an all-out attack on the Lebanese state. And who was standing up to the Israelis? Who was defending Lebanon? Not, you can be sure, the Lebanese army.

The defiant flag of Hizbullah

It remains to be seen how far Hizbullah will benefit politically from their (perceived) role as national defenders during the recent war, but benefit they will. That much can be easily predicted. It is indicative of their growing political awareness that they downplay their former religious agenda, never all that strong, and now even field local Christian candidates in election campaigns. These guys are not stupid. They are on their way to becoming major political players in Lebanon, first and foremost, and, by extension, a model for the wider Arab political world. I can’t help but wonder (maybe it’s only me) if they haven’t been stealing a few peeks at the Sinn Fein playbook in Ireland.

America, Bush, GWOT

What about America? Well, what about it – does it really matter? We all know what is going to happen. Bush is like one of the old Bourbon kings of France. He only sees what he wants to see and he learns nothing from changes in events and circumstances. We can expect more of the same blind stupidity. Hizbullah will be ostracized and condemned, again, as an “Islamofascist” terrorist organization. It never has been that, not by any stretch of the imagination. Hizbullah came out foursquare and condemned Al Quaida and the 9/11 attacks, but who cares to remember that now?

America will continue to support Israel and ship them new weapons (but not through Shannon Airport!!) in the hope that a new, better and improved Israeli regime will launch a fresh attack and exterminate these hardy defenders of their native soil. Whatever happened to the old republican virtues (small “r”) in which the Minutemen of Lexington and Concord held a position of respect? In these days of geopolitical conniving and imperial overreach the foundations of the American Republic are conveniently forgotten and set aside, and the same national aspirations which gave rise to the independence of America are denied to others.

The Global War on Terror? It hasn’t been that for some time although Al Quaida is still out there, largely undisturbed. What we have now is a global war on everyone including dissidents, the poor, and ethnic minorities within the USA itself. If you are a Muslim or a black or brown foreigner, God help you.

Sunni regimes

The conservative Sunni regimes in Saudi Arabia, Egypt and Jordan are probably quaking in their boots and with good reason. A successful Shi’ite grassroots organization like Hizbullah that can take on the Israelis and not lose (not losing means you win) is the last thing they need with their own volatile and predominantly poor populations chafing under restrictive quasi-military rule. Hizbullah has aroused feelings of pride and defiance throughout the Arabic world which cuts across the Sunni-Shia divide. It will be interesting to see how they will build upon this support, but build upon it they will. These people are intelligent, disciplined, and dedicated. They won’t be going away anytime soon.

For related articles, please click here

268. The War in Lebanon

O God, they’re at it again!

During the last 60 years, or ever since the creation of the State of Israel, hardly a week or month has gone by without some incident of political violence in which civilians have been attacked or killed. There have been major outbreaks of violence in the form of all-out wars in 1948, 1956, 1967, 1973, 1982, and now, since July 12 of this year, we have witnessed Israeli airstrikes on Lebanon. Apart from the full-scale invasion of Lebanon in 1982 there have also been bombing campaigns by Israel in 1978 and 1996 before the Israeli army finally withdrew its troops from southern Lebanon in 2000. Internally Israel has been engaged in almost continuous military actions against the Palestinians, most notably in reaction to the “intifadas” (uprisings) of 1987 and 2000. Now they are at it again in Gaza.

Israel lays claim to the sympathies of the West as a fellow “democracy” surrounded by hostile enemies who wish to destroy the Jewish state and push its inhabitants into the sea. This is very emotive stuff but it has gradually lost the power to convince (except, of course, in the United States) since originally well-disposed European nations have taken stock of the overwhelming military superiority of Israel vis-à-vis its opponents and the number of times that Israel has been the actual instigator of armed conflict in the region (every single time, in fact, with the exception of the Egyptian attack in 1973). It’s a little bit like the Boy Who Cries Wolf in that the neighbours soon learn to take these pleas with a pinch of salt. Woe, then, to Israel should she really come under the sort of devastating attack that would actually threaten her existence!! Of course, America will probably still be there to pull the irons out of the fire should things ever get that far – and it seems highly unlikely they ever will – whereas the Europeans, grown ever more disillusioned with Israeli behaviour, would be much slower to react.

Does Israel have a right to exist?

Yes. It will always be a troublesome entity because of its location and because of some of its rather more dubious Zionist claims to legitimacy. Nevertheless, the state of Israel is internationally recognized and its right to exist will be defended by the United Nations, even to the extent of military intervention if necessary. In spite of Israeli fears to the contrary, the world will not stand by and allow Israel to be destroyed. Only Israel itself can do that. There is a growing belief among non-partisan outside observers that the attitudes and policies of successive Israeli governments have done much to exacerbate the problems of the region and that these policies have increased rather than reduced tensions with Israel’s neighbours and its internal population of Palestinians. In other words, Israel has generally created more problems than it has solved, rarely if ever accepts responsibility for these problems, and consistently engages in angry but well-orchestrated attacks on any groups or individuals who have the temerity to challenge its behaviour.














The real question here is which Israel has the right to exist? Is it the Israel of the original UN Partition Plan of 1947, the expanded Israel that followed the 1948 war, or the even more expanded Israel which came into being after the 1967 war? (see maps above and below). In 1967 Israel took over -- and continues to occupy -- the West Bank and East Jerusalem (formerly part of Jordan), Gaza (formerly Egyptian -- the Sinai Peninsula was returned in 1982), the Golan Heights (formerly Syrian) and a small enclave along the Syrian-Lebanese border known as Shebaa Farms. UN Resolution 242 (November 22, 1967) specifically called for Israel to withdraw from these occupied territories.


There have been 98 UN resolutions concerning Israeli actions and the vast majority of them have been critical. Nevertheless, the only UN Resolution that Israel cares to quote is Resolution 1559 calling on the Lebanese government to disarm Hezbollah, (“There are pro-Israeli and anti-Israeli sources that have commented on the amount of United Nations resolutions against Israel. Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Shamir commissioned an analysis of UN voting concerning Israel. According to results of this study, from 1967 to 1988 the Security Council passed 88 resolutions directly against Israel and during that span, Israel was condemned 43 times. In the UN General Assembly, 429 resolutions against Israel were passed, and Israel was condemned 321 times”. – source, Wikipedia).

Is Israel justified in its attack on Lebanon?



No. The rationale put forward is totally out of sequence. We are told Israel has a right to destroy the Lebanese infrastructure (roads, bridges, the main airport, oil storage facilities, TV and cellphone relay towers, factories, etc.) because Hizbullah fired rockets into Israel. This is not what happened. The Hizbullah attacked an Israeli army patrol, killed three soldiers and captured two. Their intent was to set up a prisoner exchange for some of the 900 or so Lebanese held without charge in the Israeli military prison system. Israel sent in a team (there is still a dispute as to which side of the border the original incident occurred)to chase down the Hizbullah fighters and one of their tanks ran over a landmine and a further four Israeli soldiers were killed. One more soldier was killed in an ambush as the Israelis attempted to retrieve the bodies. The next day Israel initiated air strikes on southern Lebanon and hit the airport in Beirut. Hassan Nasrullah, the Hizbullah leader, told Israel to stop bombing Lebanese targets or Hizbullah would fire rockets into Israel. That’s how that got started.



Next, we hear that Syria and particularly Iran are engaged in a proxy war with Israel (and the United States) by supplying Hizbullah with missiles and military training. Even as this complaint was doing the rounds of all the media outlets, the USA was shipping new bombs into Israel by way of Prestwick airport in Scotland. This is apparently OK. The bombs were redirected through Prestwick (much to the fury of the Scots) because my own government in Ireland refused landing rights at Shannon airport. Good for them. So why can’t Hizbullah and Israel make a deal? We (Hizbullah) will cut all ties with Syria and Iran if you (Israel) promise to cut all ties with the USA? Well, I can’t see that happening any time soon, but it amazes me that people can't see the parallels.

Are we being told the truth?

No, of course not. When has that ever happened? The so-called Peace Process between Israel and the Palestinians is a total sham and everybody knows it. It’s a smokescreen to hide the fact that Israel wants to retain the occupied territories and somehow get rid of the Palestinians. This is why they are building illegal settlements, usually on strategic hilltop positions; this is why they confiscate Palestinian land, refusing building permits to Palestinian families (if they do build, their homes are destroyed by bulldozers); this is why they set up military roadblocks and checkpoints that make it nearly impossible for Palestinians to get their goods to market, attend schools and universities, get to hospitals for imminent childbirth and other medical emergencies, or in simple terms, lead normal lives; this is why they have set up a highway system connecting settlements that only Israeli citizens can use. The list goes on. It is literally unbelievable, except nobody seems to be paying any attention to what is actually happening to these people. These daily humiliations are totally buried in American press and TV coverage. Whenever Palestinians react with anger they are painted as mindless terrorists and Israel is praised for “defending” itself by shooting a few of them. Kids throw stones against tanks and when the soldiers catch them, they beat them and break their arms. Those are the lucky ones, the ones who don’t get shot. Unlike press and television outlets from the rest of the world, the American news media hardly ever mentions the brutal military occupation which gives rise to these responses. The whole situation is reported totally out of context as if the Palestinians were unstable people addicted to violence. Could you imagine this happening in your own neighbourhood? Probably not, but if it were to happen, what would be your reaction? Fight or flight? The Palestinians have nowhere to run to.

Ehud Barak, military hero and former Israeli prime minister, was once caught off guard by a reporter's question:

"What would you have done, sir, if you had been born a Palestinian?"
Barak thought a moment and replied candidly,"I imagine that if I were a Palestinian of the right age, I would, at some stage, have joined one of the terror organizations."

Right, exactly. Source under Quotes.


In the meantime, for those who are interested in Israel and the Middle East,there is a longer article on this blog entitled 'Great Hatred, Little Room'.

By clicking on the links button below you will be brought to a kaboodle.com page with a collection of nearly a dozen recent articles on Lebanon and Gaza.

links

www.kaboodle.com

267. Breaking News

Whatever it takes,
between station breaks,
allow your mouth to do the walking
and never once stop talking;

Anderson Cooper
induces stupor,
but, consistently, most of all,
what really drives me up the wall

is Colonel This and Brigadier That
who woof-woof at us rata-tat-tat
with their steely eyes and lantern jaws
about events, yet never the cause

of the unfolding dreadful situation
in a small and faraway foreign nation
when any fool can easily tell
that they don't know really what the hell

is in actual fact transpiring;
this is sad, it is totally uninspiring,
as innocent people continue to die
and they focus on what, but can't say why:

half-cocked blather, ill-prepared,
"news" by and for the thought-impaired.

Under the moon and under the sun
all humankind must learn,
that those to whom evil is done
WILL do evil in return.

266. Mexico

In many different ways
the nights were a torment
far worse than the days.

Trapped, involuntarily,
in a situation beyond our control,
we believed, contrarily,

that others were to blame.
We tried to shrug aside responsibility,
and so avoid the shame.

We were not good at introspection:
we were trained to fight, wrong or right;
thought was a kind of infection.

We had killed the enemy with impunity,
to be captured was a blow to our pride;
then kindness broke down our immunity.

Why were they devoid of hostility?
This we could not, would not, understand;
it made us consider the futility

of the righteous, murderous behaviour
that had primed us from the start.
They spoke of a just and gentle Saviour

bringing peace and freedom to the land.
We tried, but it was beyond us --
at first we could not understand.

265. Rue du Bonne Chance

Madame Vavasour
trips the light
fantastic,
orgiastic,
dans le Rue
du Sauvignon.

L’onion
in zee hand
is worse too
in zee Boosh.

Alors, quel’ homme!!
Inky- dinky
Quest ce-que tu dire?
Never push
when you can shove instead.

Hola, parlez vous?
(Oui, oui, on y va chez nous!)

Life is short,
soon comes le Morte
and by report
the silent resentful dead
remain dead for a very very very
long time.

My crime
was complex, yet quite simple,
my best girl had a pimple
and the blowtorch
came to hand.
Franz Ferdinand
war ein “echter Wiener”
In Bosnia-Hercegovina,
Jetzt tot, der lieber Mann,
his white on white tunic
now so dunkel-rot
and poor morganatic Sophie
shot and squealed and bled,
equally, beastly dead.

La veille ogresse avec les dents jaunes
No, that was Queen Victoria,
a completely different storia.

In another place, another time
some other crime
transpires; now the fires
of Hell burn low:
the Devil’s stokers want to strike
instead they just “go slow”.
They don’t much like
their permanent condition
and seek the Devil’s permission
for a 3-week summer break
in Purgatory. Nugatory, I fear,
such hopes, the rise and fall of tropes:
after all, they have made their beds
along with other nasty deads.

And it’s only them feckin Paddies
(such an awful lot of them down here)
who keep acting queer, obstreperous laddies,
getting into fights,
demanding non-existent rights.
So, the Devil, well, he’s right annoyed
and consults his adviser, Sigmund Freud
(yes, of course, he’s down here too,
an under keeper of this shabby zoo,
a critic and constant scathing belittler
of his hopeless assistant, Adolf Hitler).
Ah, feck this crowd, says the Devil,
would you ever get on the phone to Neville
Chamberlain? He’s one of the pure
blithering idiots beyond,
he’s easily fooled and easily conned.
Tell him to ask that fella God
if he’s ready to do a trade?
He can have the Irish, the whole bleedin’ crew,
and all he has to do
is send me some Baptists and Quakers
and a slew of pious Protestants.
They’ll work without the bother of getting paid
and pay attention to the borders;
best of all, at my beck and call,
they will obey my Standing Orders!!

Madame Vavasour
is not a hoor
but a woman of a certain age
with a mind “en clair”
who thought, this world is so unfair
with young girls placed in a cage:
Alors, she reflected, what can I do,
If not be unfair too?
Her raging business success
has got her on the Fortune 500
along with all the other crooks and liars.
On the smouldering funeral pyres
of our moribund civilization
a final oration
falls due to our Captains of Industry!
Damaged people, with nervous tics and snuffles,
who root out money like pigs find truffles.

On the Chateau d’If
d’Whether, du When,
the wind blows from the south.
Ah, Bisto!
cries out the Count of Monte Christo,
rinsing out his … armpits;
today I believe I shall them deceive,
Voila! Heu, heu .. oui, sacre bleu!!
Vite, vite, vite, doleur!
Zee tricoleur
will fly over all zee nations
and reparations
will be honoured, on presentation
of a duly signed and stamped receipt
at Burlington Court, 114 the Strand.
Ah, life would surely be grand
with loads of unearned money!
But life is brutal, grasping, sick,
a carny trick --
but sometimes very funny.
Things happen.
Things happen some more.
Things happen some more some more.
You can’t help but love it.

War criminals
die peacefully in their beds
while their innocent victims
die in agony, in hundreds of thousands:
that’s the way things are.
In my little car
I drive ten thousand miles
across the weeping frontiers.

Tears
do nothing.
Nothing changes,
Nothing improves.
Power remains a heartless game
in every generation.
The occasion
of death is incidental,
accidental, and necessary.
It moves all people aside.
It ranges wide.

264.Texas/Japan

East Jesus

Nowhere, East Texas,
set down on the courthouse square,
walk over to the store,
dark and dim, take a moment or two,
to adjust from the outside glare.
Three pair
of cold unfriendly eyes
look me up and down:
Where you from, boy?
Uhh, Dallas.
You stayin long?
No, sir.
Good.
Can I buy some stuff, is that OK?
If your money's good
yewkun bah whut yew lakh.
No satisfaction
in that transaction: walk out
and some lizard-like lounging lout
spits a gob of tobacco
right in the shadow of my shoes.
This is totally calculated, calibrated,
so I look in his rattlesnake eyes
and think "Oh fuck, I'm outta luck"
but don't look shook or frustrated.
"Y'all have a nice day now,"
I drawl with a smile and a wink,
(you need a Stetson to really pull this off,
you tug at the brim, look constipated)
hoo, that made that bastard blink!
Scoot back quick into the car,
ignition, ignition, ignition!!
get me, get me outta here!
Whoa, slow down,go almighty slow,
'cause only a fool would fail to know
that the county sheriff is around the bend,
"Well, well, pull over mah little friend"
and he don't take checks or credit cards.
Ahh, Texas.
I dunno.
Give it back to Mexico?

Snow

The bells of hell
go ting-aling-aling
ting-aling-aling, ting-aling-aling,
the bells of hell
they ring-a-ling-a-ling,
for you but not for me.

O mournful mournful is my role
as horror-struck I view
the used-up hanky of your soul
dissolve into the blue.

The bells of hell
go ting-aling-aling
ting-aling-aling, ting-aling-aling,

O Death where is thy sting-aling-aling
O grave thy mysteries?
Across the hot and heartless highways
armadilloes whacked by SUVs.
O we may weep into our pillows,
and we may weep in lanes and byways,
our emotions can be such a tease.

they ring-a-ling-a-ling,
for you but not for me.

Her name is Yuki
and she tells me that means snow.
I know. She has bad teeth but a nice smile,
and like all girls, she wants to be liked,
and not chased and used and thrown away
and cast into the blue.

My feelings, sorry, don't run deep.
I'd really rather go to sleep.

When girls ignore guys
people smile and call it a game;
when guys ignore girls
it's suddenly not the same:
no, somehow, that's not funny.

263. Billy Wilson

Baby, let me drive your car,
let me drive you, honey,
it's so funny to come so far
in such a short time:
hey, ain't no crime,
basking in the neon in my flashy suit
and my twenty-seven dollar necktie,
guaranteed imitation
Thai silk. Pass the milk
and drink up your coffee, baby,
we gonna have ourselves some fun
before this day is done.
I like you, girl, but I just LOVE your machine,
tuned-up, growling, smooth, and clean.
I'm holding steady, rough and ready,
but I can sure be kind --
Yes, ma'am, wham-bam,
ya-hoo ... hey, you don't mind?
If I act like a prisoner on reprieve
it's because I got compassionate leave
(my grandmother died for the second time)
and very soon I gotta go back
to f**kin Iraq, shoot down
another two dozen ragheads
or get blown to sh**.
There ain't no sense in it.
They say there are 35 million
of these goddam people
and we sure as hell can't shoot them all.
We'd like to. Greasing is so easy,
and nobody don't say nothing.
What the hell, survive. Stay alive,
and blow them all to hell.
Might as well. Drop bombs from the air,
we don't care. Ay-rabs suck,
hey, what the f**k!!
Say, baby, you wanna get married
when I come home?
Just don't sell that car.
Or we could go to Vegas
and live in sin
at the Holiday Inn.

USA!
your daddy was a preacher
USA!
my mommy was a teacher
USA!
Damn, it's a great country,
you can't help but love it.

262. Afterlife

Welcome to the Afterlife --
so sorry you are dead, folks,
but if you would just step this way
we have some exciting
offers and options
and several "eternal" packages
which I am sure
you will find interesting
(my assistants very shortly
will hand out brochures).

Could the Jews
please leave your suitcases, undress
and go to the showers?
Just follow the guide.
You were right all along.
Congratulations.
Thank you, thank you,
just follow the guide
and ignore the dogs,
they rarely bite.

Now, Mormons,
over to my left, please,
so we can fit you up
for your robes and wings;
there's a bit of a cliff,
a precipice, actually,
but I can assure you
that the wings
generally work quite well.

Ahh, Muslims!
Will the men please move over
to the small stinking rooms
where you will remain
for the next seven centuries?
Ladies, into the garden
with these young lusty handsome chaps,
seven each, I believe,
who will fulfill
your every desire.
Yes, yes, of course
you can throw away the veils!

Namaste, Hindu friends!
Over there with the cows
and the monkeys, the elephants
and the kangaroos:
they all speak Railway English.
The Untouchables
(such a quaint endearing term)
will prepare your food
and look after you.

Protestants, oh dear!
We're not quite ready
so, if you wouldn't mind
please gallop along
to this cold drafty chapel
and sing tedious hymns
for the next 300 years
while we do our best
to get back to you.

Catholics, oh so many!
Right, Italians into the restaurant,
Irish and Poles into the pub,
Spaniards and Portuguese
onto the terrace, if you wouldn't mind,
and South Americans
into the carnival tents.
Chileans, if you please,
into the soccer stadium!

Right, who's left?
Pagans, atheists, New Age
California bunnies?
Pick up the brooms
and grab the mops
and clean up the area.
Enya is on Channel Four
on your headsets, the same song
for the next 400 years,
plus forest winds
and ocean waves
and birdsong.
Enjoy!

God is on a business trip
negotiating exchange rights
with Mr Lucifer
but should be back
by tea-time.
He will welcome you all
with a 3-year-long speech
upon his return.

We are negotiating with Hell
to get Fidel
when he drops off from the pod:
he can do the speeches instead of God.

Now we are all settled
and nothing remains to be said.
Aren't you all thrilled and excited
to know you are finally dead?

261. Beer is Beautiful!!!

Slainte!!

Ale does more than Milton can
To justify God's ways to Man.

When I finally expire, the thing I require
is a barrel of beer at my head and feet;
and all the sad mourners, such as they are,
should certainly NOT arrive by car:
they'll be unable to drive when the wake's complete!

When I was young, I stuck my tongue
into me Daddy's pint, I was no more than five;
O -- a strange taste, a need for exploration,
the start of a lifelong adoration:
no sense of sinning, just an early beginning!

Whatever age you are, stand up at the bar,
and if your nose, by God, peeks over the rail,
and if you can pay for what you think you deserve
the old-time barmen would chuckle and serve:
them charmin' barmen; just the one , never fail!

With laughter and tears, over many long years,
there's been a fair amount of time in liquid locations;
exhilaration and anger, yes, these I have seen --
and a whole gamut of feelings inbetween:
yet my dealings are smooth with friends and relations!

It's difficult not to let
things get you upset.
A lightly controlled beer-aholic
can mentally leap and frolic,
and avoid the sour and sober juices
that pride (and sister envy) induces.
There's nothing wrong with a rosy glow
if it bucks you up, and helps you know
that your life is a comet in the sky:
you are born, you live, you die.

But when I look back, I can't keep track
of all the beery idylls that have kept me sane;
not a bad oul' life, many a sudsy day
in spite of AA and what puritans say:
Yoho! -- hey, hey -- let's start up again!

260. The Summer of 1914

The summer of nineteen-fourteen
has been made idyllic
through the prism of memory:

nostalgic images of a lazy purling stream
meandering through the peaceful village
under a buzz of bees and hummingbird wings;
of high teas with strawberry and cream,
of respectful peasants at their tillage,
of order and stability in all things.

Poof! It was nothing of the sort.
One can objectively report
and the diarists of the time will readily confess
that the world was already in a mess,
quite ready and willing to go to war,
and had been for some time before.

The apogee of pride and prosperity
reached its peak around eighteen eighty six
at home, and in farflung British dominions;
the Empire commenced its slide downhill
with the Second Irish Home Rule Bill;
and Victorian gentlemen, with asperity,
were wont, ever afterwards, to fix
that date in their opinions.

By mathematical extraction
(learned at school as subtraction)
there are twenty-eight years left adrift
between 1886 and 1914;
and, as can be wryly foreseen,
this will allow the blame to shift
for decline and contamination
on that hapless generation.

Conscience made brief appearances
and (inevitable) disappearances
as the ancient ruling classes
gave ground to the growling masses.
Under brave Parnell, until he fell,
(hounded to his death by his own countrymen, I might add,
Irish jackals will only attack a wounded lion, bedad!!)
the Irish had set out to leave the UK,
and it's eminently fair to say
this was not the first nor last temptation
to do so by that wounded nation.
(Let's leave it at that: today,
Ireland is five-sixths OK.
Up the Republic!!)

But in Britain at the time, what was going on?
Even now, today, it's not easy to say:
Blind conviction gave way to "I surmise" or "I feel",
and the bedrock the Empire had been borne upon
was slowly, steadily, being whittled away:
an empire taken for granted, yet not quite real.
Extending the benefits of English civilization
became a minor not major consideration;
the extraction of profit was no longer the aim,
so what, indeed, was the point of the game?
Power and pride, perhaps,
and in the event of a lapse
overseas employment for wayward sons
and a chance to try out new guns.

Whatever happens we have got
The Maxim Gun, and they have not.

After the Crimean ( 1856-58 ) disaster,
slowly, and then faster and faster,
the despised but tough little British Army
trained on rebellious natives.
They were ever victorious
happy and glorious
in India (1857) and China (1860),
in Ethiopia (1868) and Zululand (1879)
and ever and always
on the wild and woolly Afghan frontier.

When the Boers said, "What's mine is mine!"
Britain thought there'd be nothing to it,
(that would be South Africa -- 1899)
but, then, after three years, lived to rue it.
The Boers -- Dutch white settlers -- arose
and the world stood up and said ... Yesss!!!
when Britain suffered a series of blows.
At last, at last, there will be redress
for all those years of arrogance!

The Army went on to win in the end,
after initial and surprising defeat,
dealt out by "European" opponents
for a change; one should consider the range
and consider the various components
of this war -- the barbed wire, the machine guns,
the concrete blockhouses, the concentration camps,
all the features that would so soon repeat
with ruthless exponential brutality,
the new twentieth-century reality.
Only this time in Europe.

Britain "won" the First World War
at least until Hitler came along;
then they had to fight the Second Half
of the extended German War as well
for which I confess, one can do no less
than admire them. They stood up
when the rest of the world stood down.
Including America.

So that was the final end,
in victory, of the farflung British Empire.
The eccentric awkward island remains
querulously independent to this day.
Rapidly, with very little delay
most of the red and the pink bits on the map
have faded and gone away.
Yet who can say
that this is a bad thing?

Is there a lesson for our American cousins?
Damn right, there is. I'm coming to it,
in fact, what do you think I'm writing for?
Look upon this poem as a metaphor.
Since I don't wish to seem to attack
you (you can be so-o-o sensitive!!).Iraq
and the Idiot and his Cronies, on this occasion,
will be airbrushed out of the equation.
There has been enough political talking.
I think, on the whole, you should be walking
Home. Leave it. You sure as hell don't need it.
The British found out the hard way
that tyranny, which is what Empire is,
does not befit a free people.

It hurts the people at home
just as much as the "natives" overseas:
even more, in some ways.
America has its own history of defiance,
real enough at the time, now Disneyfied,
and unfortunately ill-remembered:
Geo Washington and the cherry tree!
But a Republic is not an Empire,
not if its citizens remain vigilant.
Avoid it like poison. Keep the soldiers home.
Do not become another Rome.
----------------------------

For an article on the 1914-18 War, based on a visit to the Somme and Ypres, please go to the link Armistice Day on this blog.

259. Damaged in Transit

When things start to go wrong
panic rises, with a tightness
in your chest, with a lightness
in your head. Time seems long.
Dull colours, bled, take on a sharper edge,
but this, of course, is an illusion.
It adds to your sense of confusion
as your life creeps out on a ledge.
Breathe deep, you have been here before:
idiot, risk-taker, chancer,
laughing moonlight dancer.
I don't ...
I don't believe I can take any more.
I can't go on. I must go on.
This is the end. This is the
End: No, this is
the last beginning.

258. Consider, if you will, the crocodile

The crocodile
in the Nile
knows something
we don't know;
he may give your legs a playful tug
and look, my goodness, very smug
but his mind
is far from slow!
Day by day
in his calm and careful way
he reflects on depictions
of hieroglyph inscriptions
and, there in the Nile,
once in a while,
he will chew and swallow
Egyptians.

257. Terrorists on a Coffee Break

We were told
to stay off the booze
and to run five miles
across the feckin fields
when we had,
as it were, the time.
Everyone snorted
and fell over laughing,
and then Dinny ups and says,
Are we to wear
our Wellington boots, sorr?
to the snippy runt (it rhymes)
come down from Belfast.
He looked pinched and peeved,
having to deal with us rustics,
but he'd brought us guns.
Nice guns, too.
Armalites, greased-up, new.
We were better tooled-up
than the sad sallow boys
in the fearful British Army
(you can take that both ways).

They were just walking targets,
doing useless patrols.
We'd do a ping
most days, shoot one,
let them drag the body home
and think and brood about it.
They took it out on the locals
which was exactly
what we wanted them to do:
safe houses, money, food,
they all came pouring in.

That's when we thought
we were winning the war.
We were doing grand
in East Tyrone, but the cities
were a different story.

They started picking us off
one by one: dawn raids,
roadblocks, security checks;
all the technology
brought to bear.
We were driven into the hills and woods
like the clansmen
five hundred years before.

We lost the M-60 that way.
Some young lads, recent
recruits, seething with frustration,
raced through the town
with the gun set up on a flatbed truck
and shot the hell
out of the local police station.
The SAS were waiting
and shot the lot of them dead,
even shot them
after they were dead
(to make sure, like)
there in the parking lot
in front of the church.

Cartridges like peanut shells
everywhere you walked.

That's when I went
to America, after the cops
beat up my little brother,
hassled my mother in the street,
and swore I would never
be captured alive.
We had lost, as they say,
the initiative.

That's why the "Peace Process"
was grudgingly welcomed.
We were losing. It's that simple.
Nobody will admit it to this day:
"IRA - the Undefeated Army" ---
(that was supposed to be us)
was barely functional, nearly licked,
and mostly on the run.

I was scared of my life
in New York -- Jayzus,
you think Norn Iron is dangerous?
Try Brooklyn. I was
bartending, what else
do Irish illegals do (construction)?
when the word came through
it was safe to come home.
It is never safe to come home,
not if your home is my home:
it's been on the frontline
for about four hundred years,
and I don't want my own kids
(if and when I have them)
to go through the same thing.

Everyone does their little bit,
gallantly unmeasured, for Mother Ireland.
Do chum Gloire De
agus Onora na hEireann*
but the time slides around
when you have to think
about doing a little something
for the nerve-wracked jangling creature
that dear old Mother Ireland
has made of you.

-----------------------------------------
* For the Glory of God and the honour of Ireland

NB - this poem is NOT autobiographical. I get into a lot of trouble for my weirdly accurate imagination. I would rather not be strip-searched (again) on any future visit to Fortress America. As if I even want to go there ....

256. My Own Mata Hari

Last night I saw you
clearly, for the first time,
with all your untruths exposed,
with all the explanations
swept away, with all the lies
stripped down. For a year
you have been using me,
pretending to love me,
pretending to be cheating
on your dimwit husband
who now turns out
not to be your husband at all,
instead, your political
controller.

Now you say
your child is in danger
(which I believe)
and you beg me, tearfully,
to help you
because
I am the "only friend"
you have
in spite of all the lies,
in spite of all the deception,
not to mention
the fake orgasms.

And I think
it is on this latter ground
that my equivocal heart
closes down on you.
You can lie.
You can lie.
But how could you lie about that?

Women do this all the time,
you say. Maybe so.
But you?

-----------------------

Ich weiss nicht was
Ich werden will ....
People want love
Instead they kill.

255. Beard and Moustache Championship!!