The joy in walking to school
hand in hand with friends
through streets of destruction
says more about Palestinian children
than it does
about the rest of the world
The Simplest, Most Ordinary Joy
Right On
Right On
Popular right
Centre right
Far right
Extreme right
Always right
If only it was
Right as rain
Right on cue
The right one
Then it be all right
We’d be right on track
But
There’s too much
“I’m right”
And too often they’re
A right idiot
A right jerk
A self-righteous prick
And there’s those who figure they have
A divine right
If only there was a
True right
That we could all be
Dead right
Then we’d have bragging rights
Because we’d
Be in the right
And we’d do right
By rights
Or at the very least,
Just right!
And Now
On this, the 25th anniversary of 9/11,
what of this world in which we live?
Evil has exploded and seeped
engulfing Earth’s troposphere
The consequential rubble of war
echoes Ground Zero’s desolation
The toxic fumes of hate for those
fleeing impossible lives
Inhaled dust of collapsing truths
The heat of a warming planet
defies the logic of what is before our eyes
The insidious algorithms that balloon
and roll like poisonous clouds
The fluttering debris
of what was
now illusive, teasingly beyond our reach
AI’s terrorism dares to boldly destroy
The towers of what we have known
We watch these calamities over and over again
Underground Scavengers
Pigeons at my feet
Forage discarded corn chips
Underground platform
Organ Recital
Toccatta and fuge
Two words so embued
Musical terms clued
Toccatta and fuge
Put you in a mood
Feel the soul in you
Toccatta and fuge
Who’d even argue
A moment in blue
Toccatta and fuge
To give Bach his due
Like a Manet nude
Toccatta and fuge
Enables a view
And senses are glued
Toccatta and fuge
In D minor
What could be finer
Crowded
Even on a Sunday
German railway stations are hectic
Travellers, like bees to the hive
Constant frenetic movement
They ply between those stopped mid stream
Suitcases follow their owners
Like dogs on leads
Coffee cups and phones clasped tightly
Loud speakers mumble announcements
Delineated arrivals and departures
Clock hands drop down minutes
Pigeons fly in the station’s cavern
Surfaces spike to deter them
But they adeptly find wires and ledges
On which to roost
And survey this human landscape.
Foreign Shopping
Last chance
For foreign shopping
Hamburg mall options
Browse through
Looking for the different
World Cup Elsewhere
Watching soccer in Germany
Volume turned down
To block out commentary I don’t understand
The relentless back and forth of this game
Different nights, different North American cities
Players exercise their drama skills
With falls and tumbles
Urging the umpire to foul
Yellow cards are held high
Evoking indignation
Back and forth, back and forth
Till suddenly a ball lands in a goal
Kicked through opponents’ legs
Heartfelt roar
Players pile atop each other in congratulations
A win is a win and scoring goals
Gets you to the next stage.
Language Barrier
Removed
On the outer
Conversations abound around us
Unfamiliar sounds, cadences, meanings
We are in a pocket of exclusion
Elongated words which appear
To be four words in one
Create a grid of omission
My love of words
Leaves me frustrated
Wanting to comprehend,
Engage more with this country, culture, people
Regardless,
I’m constantly reading
Trying to make meanings
Can’t break a lifelong habit.
Walls Can Dance
In routine suburbia
Locals busy in their lives,
Walls explode with colour
Massive canvases of delight
And yet,
Locals are ignorant of their existence
They have become bland
In their landscape
It is we who want to hunt them down
