Wednesday 1 April 2020

bugs have done for us this liberty


bu akşam evde kal


Venus rides alone

through a murky sky she owns

cold indifferent light


people go unmasked

driving cars too goddam fast

tearing up the streets


now the müezzins

start to weave their prayers in twins

piercing & bright


chilled I turn for home

Venus stays behind her gleam

narrows on the beat


still the calls ring out

urging folk to have no doubt

stay at home tonight


*    *    *    *    *    *


don't cry for us karantina



I


my illicit pony GiddyApp

asks me if I'd care to go pot luck

starting out from Spain or Castlereagh

where it'll end


makes no difference how I goad the nag

up the aery waterfall at night

down Old Faithful’s gizzard by the day

where it'll end


stirrup cups for singing as ye go

birds & bees & rubber geese join in

road is long but folk may never know

where it'll end


useless whistling in the dark eyes closed

better open all them curtains wide

sun or cloud the heating system stays

where it'll end


shall I gallop off & back again

bringing viruses in saddle bag

loads or wait & spend the day in bed

where it'll end



II


Covid couldna struck a nicer guy

Hanksy made the virus seem benign

Tom how many times did you survive

saving that Ryan


gumption gets our hero off his cloud

atlas with the flu Apollo too

Elvis meets Vinci Dan Caprio

under the Louvre


never saw you as an astronaut

Google saved the day I own but still

if you'd played some less practical cat

done it with tact


dubious but followed up on tweets

all the highs & lows of quarantine

sampled so we’re stoically briefed

tearful at times


uncles Sam & Tom rolled into one

not an ounce of side or carry-on

just your all American has been

seen but not gone



III


Mum's in Liverpool she's all alone

so is Deniz Lee our eldest son

we're in Turkey same as everyone

else getting on


carbon fumes have lifted streets are plain

empty buses here & there some rain

birds are singing spring is here again

peace to all men


women get remote asylum too

children sit & wonder but it's no

time for homework fix that broken loo

seat in the gloom


blossom frosted up the other night

doggies bark at passersby in fright

slealthy creeps the virus to the fight

who knows what's right


still believe in something can't say no

meaning less from sure to nothing's sure

thing's empire never set us back home

to the future


*    *    *    *    *    *


it's not the leaving of Liverpool



I


Turkey is no bird of paradise

but for pride of place it's hard to beat

Orientals meet The Occident


most of us who've had the luck to waltz

in as political exiles or

like me economic refugees


landed on our feet not so in Greece

birthplace of democracy lately

there the welcome ain’t been all that neat


beaches not so chock-a-block as here

praising Allah migrants land with cries

but a squalid camp is all they find


saw them wade ashore surreal as we

foreign tourists looked at olive groves

land was cheap the views of Turkey great



II


first we saw were figures on the quay

twenty-twelve before the Arab spring

tide washed up on sunny afternoons


childish features burnt & wiry-haired

stared like lawless wanderers no tents

kids on piles of blankets babes in arms


worried for the car I blush to say

shooed them off afraid they’d take our stuff

but the locals had a heart one said


never mind they’re harmless pity them

Christian values I had plain forgot

should have wondered who they were & not


cast them as vagabonds out to fleece

holidaymakers of souvenirs

why was I so thick & plain unkind



III


guy we know a Greek's had enough

says they’re selling sex & spreading AIDS

wonder what he knows his wife shuts up


people soon forget how their folks came

seeking work & housing in the towns

passing through or settling down for good


my colleague a Bulgarian Turk

lost his sister on a protest strapped

to her mother’s back a sniper’s round


grazed its mark & struck the baby’s head

even though a refugee himself

thirty years ago he’s moved to state


overwhelmed by teaching Syrians

it’s a job he has to do the kids

must speak Turkish for their parents’ sake



IV


it’s Ne Mutlu Türk’üm diyene

meaning Happy are those who can say

How they’re Turks the last word DNA


meantime Liverpool got beat again

after many battles won no sweat

neither bangs nor whimpers spoilt the past


such a multinational team so cool

fifteen years of exile took their toll

banned from playing in the Euro League


now no matter where you're from to go

praising God or Mammon is your choice

all you gotta do is win & lose


pointless crying if your side can’t play

dazzling games each time they hit the pitch

children have died tryna reach a beach



V


years ago the former Lesbos port

had a market place where refugees

flogged their bits & pieces as they fled


Anatolia’s Independence War

Greeks Armenians & anyone

fearful what the vengeful Turk might do


people can be monsters take their cut

maybe it’s banned in scripture but friends

bash each others’ heads for plots of land


brothers if the bible were believed

couldn’t solve their differences till one

stabbed another or left them for dead


when the technicolour coat is pawned

rainbows point to crocks of jealous gold

who respects the pots their neighbours owned



VI


Alchaeus & Sappho writing while

Hebrews wandered in the wilderness

sang the ups & downs of Lesbos folk


knew its stony hills & valleys shore

lines with massive hidden gulfs the cliffs

forests vineyards groves & even trees


turned to stone when Vulcan’s ashes rained

making deserts of the northern fells

early Christians tore their poems up


now we scratch through ancient rubbish heaps

steam papyrus scraps from mummy’s masks

piece together jigsaw dithyrambs


not to be outdone by ancient Greece

strewn along the Sikamenas strand

lie the shreds of refugees' IDs



VII


who we talking 'bout you may accuse

Africans & Afghans some Burmese

scores of Pakistanis few Chinese


why leave Turkey as their stepping stone

that’s a million dollar question one

reason’s never can sufficient young


people get to live out their dreams but

weary oldsters know the western world's

streets ain't paved with gold that's Neverland


something desperate drives the man to hold

up a child & cry give me your towel

plastic bags & tape protect his phone


took our kids on boats though not CharÓn's

Lord knows what they’re flying from no wings

birds of paradise in human skins



*    *    *    *    *    *


deus nobis haec otia fecit


as there’s nowhere left on earth to fly

airlines going bankrupt anyway

all we have’s ourselves & breathing time

here’s what I say


never will we get a better chance

when the wheels are rolling once again

must it be the same old song & dance

odds out of ten


bugs have done for us this liberty

we should sit & listen while the birds

sing & bees repollinate the world

pointless to cry


right enough the docs & nurses won’t

get a moment’s peace nor those who serve

patients’ meals & marshal our reserves

they have my vote


some of us will die the dice is cast

paradise won’t wait on Pentecost

now’s the time to face Apocalypse

heads up or bust


Wot, no crowd?



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