ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND SIXTY-NINTH DAY OF THE YEAR

Trees black

against gray

clouds.

Autumn dawn

pales into

existence.

29.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

BLADE RUNNER BLUES

Eating noodles, listening

to nightly rain in this dystopia

we have allowed the rich

to make of our world, those

spoiled oligarchs dreaming

of their off-world colonies,

and somehow it's less coo

 than on the big screen

to live the mess they made.

29.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

HOME LANE

Only relics

among ruins.

29.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

WALKING BACK HOME IN THE EVENING

From beyond the dark blue

clouds, the sound of two

jet-fighters burning gasoline,

training for death, given

and received.

29.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND SIXTY-EIGHT DAY OF THE YEAR

At the end

of the road:

Huge, bloated,

orange Moon.

29.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

ABSOLVE NOTHING

To PRC 

Late evening, late September,

still twelve degrees at half past nine

and deciduous trees still hang to

their dark garments; world

changed, and yet I can only

think how it should've been

changed, you beside me here,

not cast in that hell I made.

Oh, I have mine own hell

in dark September dusk,

yet this bed of coals less

than I deserve; this velvet

darkling evening embedded

in night softens each crime.

28.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

THING THAT WOULD HAVE SAVED THE WORLD (FOR ME)

To PRC 

I always wanted to have you

here, on the grass under

the tall old birch trees, at

bright dawn and lingering

dusk, leading you under

their dark green foliage

and playing with your every

curve and the soft, warm

wonders between your

tights, before embedding

my flesh with yours,

and making such noise

the birds in their bushes

would stop and listen

and disturbed neighbours

would close their doors

and windows in envy.

28.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND SIXTY-SEVENTH DAY OF THE YEAR

Light goes out with swift

strokes of ever deeper

blue, dusk lies down

amidst first stars, gives

itself to autumn night's

still warm embrace, and

low above the distant,

darkling lake the Moon

hovers bright orange

among nestling clouds.

28.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND SIXTY-SIXTH DAY OF THE YEAR

Difficult poetry is like all

difficult things, it should come

in short doses, fleetingly, and

give ample time to recover

before coming again to rouse

the brain to strain against

its rusted chains.

27.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

THE MESS WE ARE IN NOW

Never trust countries

whose leaders and masses

put god(s) before humans

and faith before knowledge.

27.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

NAGORNO-KARABAKH AND NORTHERN CYPRUS

The European Union is 'concerned'

about ethnic cleansing in Nagorno-Karabakh

while handing money to Turkey and Israel

so that they can help Azerbaijan to take

southern Armenia also.

And when encouraged Turkey

annexes Turkish-occupied northern Cyprus,

European Union will be 'deeply concerned¨

and surprised at how could this

happen to a member state...

26.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

FRIENDS OF ISRAEL IN THE 'WEST'

When Israel kills occupied Palestinians,

they scream from the rooftops:

"Israel is the only democracy in the Middle East!"

When illegal colonialists from occupied lands

end democracy in Israel itself, they

are silent and nowhere to be seen.

26.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

ROMANTIC POET

I shall use words deliberately wrong,

and it will be poetic and eloquent,

images grand and moving,

and in two hundred years

translators will be tearing their hair

out trying to make it sound

sensible in their own languages.

26.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

THE NIGHT ROADS

The night offers the longest

roads, the shortest destinations,

whatever emerges from darkness

is a place to reach for.

26.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

AWAY

All we cherish

is ash and dust

for time to blow.

26.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND SIXTY-FIFTH DAY OF THE YEAR

Trying to translate one of the lesser

poems of Dylan Thomas - yet obscure

enough - I think how in my long lost

youth he seemed to have lived a long,

full life. 39, a grand old age to die

and, perhaps, a bit too late. So my

mid-teen self, reasoned. Hadn't

my namesake Radiguet died at 20,

yet left his mark? And Bashõ wrote

how now one shouldn't live past 40.

But Bashõ lived to be 50, and now

that doesn't seem that much, Old

age keeps receding,  Radiguet

a child, and Thomas, puffed up

poor Thomas, a young man

in his best age. That's what

living past 40 does to you.

26.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

ON THE TWO-HUNDREDTH AND SIXTY-FOURTH DAY OF THE YEAR

Finally dark blue shapes

emerge among the black,

trees coming up from

deep waters of the night.

25.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

BEFORE I COULD STEP OUT IN THE EVENING DUSK

The light went from the landscape

so suddenly, I was left with but

a cupful of sunset orange to

last the whole long autumn night.

24.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

ON THE TWO-HUNDREDTH AND SIXTY-THIRD DAY OF THE YEAR

120 000 Armenians to be ethnically

cleansed or 'voluntary transferred' from

Nagorno-Karabakh, while Azerbeijan

with Turkey (and with Israeli arms)

plans conquest of southern Armenia.

But this doesn't matter,

because only Ukraine matters.

We have Stalin's "communism in one

country" situation in international law now;

outside the borders of Ukraine

it doesn't exist anymore.

But, so we are told by the 'West',

it's the more stronger for it

inside those borders.

24.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

THAT POMPOUS FOOL, EZRA POUND

Is there a more effective way

of announcing yourself

to be a pompous fool

than giving your book this title:

A quinzaine for this Yule, being selected from

a Venetian sketch-book, "San Trovaso,"?

If there is, I have yet

to encounter it.

07.03.2022-23.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

A SUMMER LANDSCAPE

Long field opening to the undulating

hills fallow for long decades, abundant

with flowers doomed to mid-summer

blade - a token sacrifice to show that

the subsidies bring something:

The death of meadow flowers.

15.06.-23.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

TO CORRECT PAST MISTAKES, YOU NEED THOSE YOU HAVE HURT

Until your deathbed

there is ample time

to make new mistakes,

but - so life shows us -

rarely enough time

or chance to correct

our old ones.

To make new

mistakes, after all,

you only need

one person, you.

To correct and atone,

one is not enough.

23.09.2023

#Poems #Poetry #Poems #Verse

YET YOU WON'T

Up to 1300 dead in Nagorno-Karabakh fighting,

and the politicians of the 'West', who breath

fire for Ukraine's sake, make casual statements

after thirty years of inaction, in the expectation

that a bit of bloodshed and ethnic cleansing,

'voluntary' or otherwise, will soon be over, and

they can move fully back to 'important' things.

It wasn't enough for Armenia when it was

winning, it won't be enough for Azerbaijan

when it's winning. It's southern Armenia

next, dear 'Western' policians, and you

really could stop it, if you would bother:

A flight of foreign jets over the presidential

palace in Baku would be enough.

23.09.2023

#Poems #Poetry #Poems #Verse

'WE BELIEVE IN ISRAEL', 'WE STAND WITH ISRAEL' AND SO ON

So many who bring up

the Holocaust seem to treat

its immense horror as

just a prologue to Israel,

and a shield to that state's

war crimes and human

rights violations.

It's catalogue of

human loss made

six million figures

painted on a shield

held before Israel's

occupation forces.

And of course

it was no prologue,

its mountain range

of bodies not just

a convenience to place

before growing

hills of bodies

Yet that's

how it's being

used by Israel

and it's 'Friends'.

23.09.2023

#Poems #Poetry #Poems #Verse

THE FOURTH ESTATE

The world gets destroyed, because

journalists promote and amplify politicians

who shout "Fake news!" at the press,

 ordered by billionaires. That's

all there is to it, really.

23.09.2023

#Poems #Poetry #Poems #Verse

BRIEFLY

Briefly a shaft of light

parted the clouds' veils

embracing the landscape,

but like such couplings,

all too briefly it

was at an end.

09.-23.09.2023

#Poems #Poetry #Poems #Verse

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND SIXTY-SECOND DAY OF THE YEAR

We put so much

of our lives in you,

our furry friends,

and so much, so

much, we will lose

with you. So, stay

still with us, if tired

and old, remain,

keep our days safe

still in your flesh,

let those days beat

with your heart.

23.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

TO NEFER

Sitting at the backseat

together, Neffi, you

seeking affectionate

touch with your snout,

and the years fall

away, and your fur

under my hand

is as sweet as ever.

No matter how

many days, weeks

or months there

will be, this is

a moment that

has so many

others nestled

in it, like your

head against

my shoulder.

22.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND SIXTY-FIRST DAY OF THE YEAR

Drinking coffee in the kitchen,

watching the slow movement

of people in the otherwise

still autumn landscape, I am

devoid of thoughts, merely

observing details, images.

A skinny blonde girl in a long

black jacket walking to

the neighbouring apartment

is just that. An image devoid

of extensions for what is

me at the moment. And

the moment when the yard

is empty, after her, is as

full of meaning. This

moment between images

of people will pass, has passed.

And now an old, small,

balding man slowly making his

way, will on another day, be

more than merely his image.

There will be an extension

in thought, time and space.

But for now, there is

nothing but the image.

21.-22.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND SIXTIETH DAY OF THE YEAR

Autumn, yet

so many green leaves

tell of the gone summer.

20.-21.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

ONE-SIDED LOVE

We know the world and the universe

will go on without us, that the first

day without us will be no different

from the last of our lives, yet... Deep

inside our minds we have this

nagging thought that it shouldn't,

that like a grieving widow it should

throw itself onto our meagre pyre.

The cosmos, this vastness opening

in time and space is everything

to us, so we, who count the beginning

of the world from our begetting,

feel hurt that it will go on, to

vast dephts of time, and we,

gone with all our feeble dreams,

our pyre long ash made into new flesh.

19.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

BACK FROM THE TOWN

Back as it really starts to rain,

the showers just herald of this,

drops beating the roof, steadily,

darkening landscape outside

the window moves with

the wind, and I await coffee

to drop, to shake the cold

and moist air from my

ruffled old flesh with liquid

hot as the painful memories.

19.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

THE WONDER IS GONE

When I was young, I loved

cold and rainy autumn days,

bright fallen leaves floating

in dark pools, the silence

that was pierced only

by the cries of cranes,

and now, I just shiver

as the chill breeze comes

over the dying grass

and heaves bronze leaves.

The wonder I felt is gone,

and the weight of winter

rests on every gaze.

19.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND FIFTY-NINTH DAY OF THE YEAR

The first really cold autumn

day, yesterday's sunshine

memory covered by years

of clouds and wind and

shivering flesh; idly I

walked watching still

bright green leaves, and

now, listening to the wind,

I pour another cup of coffee,

and wrap myself in fall.

19.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND FIFTY-EIGHT DAY OF THE YEAR

Night, hollow night

and like the stars have

the words of mine fallen

into shrouded dark, and

what I have, what I have

is but the hollow night.

18.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND FIFTY-SEVENTH DAY OF THE YEAR

Sunlight fades

from the landscape,

returns, fades

again. Now

dim gray, air and

land await the gold

of the autumn Sun

for one final time.

17.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

PARTHIAN COINAGE

Visages of dead kings on coins

exchanged to Chinese silk and

Roman amber and glass; visages

of dead kings worn out by callous

hands of merchants and years

long as the roads binding

mountains and seas. Time,

the dust that buries cities,

has found its shell in them.

16.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

SPEAK, FOR THE FRIENDS OF ISRAEL WON'T

 "The Friends of Israel" tell

they support Israeli occupation

of Palestine because of the Holocaust,

that Palestinians must suffer

for the sake of the safety of the Jews,

that a second Holocaust is

just behind the corner

if the occupation isn't eternal,

if Apartheid is criticized,

but they never seem to be that

interested in promoting

memory of the Jewish victims

of the Holocaust, except

as a shield for Israel's war crimes,

so while calling for solidarity

and end to the occupation

we must promote the cause

of both the victims of

1943 and 2023.

16.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

AFTER AUSCHWITZ

Having to choose

between Adorno

and Celan I

chose Celan.

Atrocities are

dark ground

for poems

to grow,

but poetry

has always had

death as a key

subject,

and genocides

consist of

individual murders,

individual murderers,

individual loves

ending in mass graves.

Silence is not the answer.

Poetry must speak.

16.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND FIFTY-SIXTH DAY OF THE YEAR

Seeing clearly

tends to lead

to a loss

of vision.

16.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

THE SINS OF THE PAST, THE SINS OF THE FUTURE

Old guilt, that philandering

old goat, with wild abandon

begets new guilt, bawling

babes joining the chorus.

15.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND FIFTY-FIFTH DAY OF THE YEAR

Today I'm old like

the Svecofennian mountains,

eroded to my roots,

listening to the gravel

under my feet muttering

our shared memories,

to the light whispering

of those long gone moments

at the edge of remembering;

eroded to my roots,

all my sky-reaching youth

carried off in the torrents

of the swiftly rushing time;

today I am as old

as the mountains that were;

embedded to the landscape,

soon out of sight

as the years smooth

the fallen peaks of my years.

15.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

ON EZRA POUND

Oh, I do enjoy the poems of Pound,

but don't think that I would have

mourned learning he would have

faced the fusillade for his Fascism.

For I am one of those who

justify the execution of Brasillach.

Instead, first reading of him caged

in Pisa, so long ago for both

of us, I remember satisfaction;

they should have never set him free.

15.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

YOU WANT US ALL TO DIE

Indifferent people, you

who don't see yourself

in the people of Derna,

seeking bodies among the ruins,

not in the people rafted

among the submerged houses

of Thessaly,

you who rage against

climate protestors

or laugh at them,

smug in your denial,

you indifferent people,

you want us all to die.

15.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

THEY ARE WRONG

People claim that Moroccans are entitled

to three things after the fatal earthquake:

Plentiful aid, continuation of the war

in occupied Western Sahara,

and to the claim that there is no war

in occupied Western Sahara.

15.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

ALAS, PREFERENCES

If only the Moroccans would be

as eager to help their stricken

countrymen after the earthquake

as they are to deny the war they

wage for the fourty-ninth year

in occupied Western Sahara...

14.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

IN AUTUMN TIME

So bright and warm sunshine

you might miss the yellowed

leaves that garb the trees,

so bright and warm sunshine

you might forget the years

that garb your brows.

14.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

THE FINER THE MATERIAL, THE BETTER POEM YOUR BRAIN COMES UP WITH

The poems that left the minds of the poets

died with them as they saw them; what

you have before you on those printed pages

is what you construct in your own mind

from the building blocks they left.

14.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND FIFTY-FOURTH DAY OF THE YEAR

Sunshine, again, outside

beyond the walls and panes,

and here I sit before the computer,

uninstalling this, installing that

and translating minor poems

from great beams of poetic light.

14.09.2023

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse