They chatter life and love by the water’s edge
then dive into the shimmering blue
With thoughts of painting ice cream clouds
or bottling the phosphorus moon
Daylight is for dreaming 
or cooking up a stew
The waking hours are for birthing art
or making love in the hot afternoon

Tonight, there’ll be a gathering at the Dolphin café
with wine and smiles in generous measures
mosquito nets b...

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Flogita - 13 September 2019

It stands

a great sail fin of rock

high towering - dominant

cloud mazed

haze hidden seat of hidden gods

and we,  yes,

we would rise to their heights,

stand in their pantheon

to observe the tiny world

beneath.

For from this seat

Prometheus set forth

and with Athena

set us in that tiny mortal world -

yet now we stand

proud o...

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The pomegranates
are ripe on the tree
across the road
and the swallows
are skimming beneath the power lines
and the soft blue sky
The washing on the balcony rail is dry
The village dogs bark
Church bells summon summer in
and the early morning peace
is broken as a tractor heads for the fields
The sun heats the soft grey
feathers on the pigeon’s back
and he leaves his chimney perch
abo...

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Boris lurks in clever Grecian lines

Pernod! Demos, oher!

I met her on Tinder, Medusa, she said she was Greek

Now I am stood here with a statue of Apollo

Bandaged babies, lepers and bikes

Refrain, refrain, rain

Boris Johnson is trashing

Davey’s wine bar,

Demis Roussos is singing ‘Do you

Think I’m sexy?’ to Angie and Dave

See the sea, let the wi...

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 I feel awkward without coffee

like chasing pert sylvans round Helicon's hills

constant under Urania's dissapproving eye.

Makes one want to get deep into the wood with goat footed pan

erection flailing wild for Bacchus rites.

Or better yet to smash skulls for the ruby juice 

thick Teutonic forest leaning close.

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Athena sits

Her once gleaming eyes

Now milk dull with fear and hatred

A once great titan brought to her knees, exhausted

Sensing defeat, she allows memories to overcome her

As the biting ropes cut into her legs and arms

Binding her forever more

To those she fought

To overcome

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There’s a floor called race and a home called blood,

it can be what forms you.

It can be what clothes you, what warms you as it flows through your body,

a rich honey providing brotherhood, relation, family and love -

bonds of pride which cartwheel through your body.

I have a mystery and in my father lies the clues.

I had droplets of speciality, uniqueness, distinction, excitement...

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(to the tune of 'coming round the mountain')

The Greek people they have had it up to here,

With those ‘haves’ that say these times must be austere.

Forbes’ list shows the same old picture

The poor pay up - the rich get richer

Publishing financial crimes without a fear.

Has the Parisian Republic gone berserk?

I mean, growth through spending... ...

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