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 25^th 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

Bunker Remodel

A massive concrete construction,

A bunker and anti-aircraft defence position

Built by foreign slave labour

A grey, dense relic of war.

Modern apartments built atop

Extensive garden winds around

A modern day Tower of Babylon

A means of re-use and enhancement