The title of my sonnet is inspired by that of the excellent 1995 film, Land and Freedom, directed by eminent film director, Ken Loach, persecuted in the UK and elsewhere for his compassionate socialist views.

With reference to my last six lines: the terrorist murder in 1946 of British soldiers, of Jews and others should not be forgotten in the rush to attempt to justify the seven-decades-long ...

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It's been so long in this boat

We've been rowing

I can imagine the feeling of my feet touching ground

Circling, edging the deepness of the water to shallow

We never know anymore if its just quicksand

How would we risk flipping the boat to stand

We know where the pieces fit

We put them all back as the boat

There have been so many stormy nights at sea

Where the best of us ...

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A Pilot's Joke / Michael Kwack

Once upon a time, there lived a flying man

Who kept flying on, never thinking of landing...

One day accidentally he had to land

Somewhere, or nowhere, on the sand...

After having lived alone very happily ever after,

He left a poem in the sand when he finally left his land;

Quote,

I used to love sand,

For, where ther...

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Sitting to the east

Sloping down to the edge  

Of that other world

In the summer sun

In the winter chill

The sentinel watched over

The little family in the cottage in the hollow

Lately it had felt her sorrow  

It knew when she left Pant y Lleiniau

And walked slowly along the cart track

To reach the little bridge under the trees

Where she crossed Nant yr Efail ...

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Nancy comes in my dreams 

Like a fairy of Disney Land 

Have two wings and song 

Touch hearts with no band 

Nancy comes from the moon 

Where the lovely stars shining 

Calls me to join the song 

And to share her in the dancing 

Nancy, I love you so much 

Can you call me only once? 

Don't keep me in dreams 

Just come in real to dance 
 

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I have always been

On the bleak bald mountain

I have dwelt through the ages

At the deep source of the fountain

Guardian of all knowledge:

Before they knew me

I was here

When this land was fashioned around my soul

Sole guardian uncrowned

Then  I loved this mortal mound

Tenured on God's holy ground

I have always been

At the brow of the hill

I was th...

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On Thursday evening
I pray near a Grave in Kashmir
Incense sticks
And candles
Lit in bundles
Aroma makes me feel
As I kneel

This is land of my forefathers
Where they rest
I too look for a place nearest
I belong to these graves
Here my soul craves
To sleep till eternity
In the Eden of divinity
What else I should ask
That has more dignity

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You see

            a land wraithed in smoke and the stink of death

You feel

            man's determination dulled by desperation and

            the hollow, guilty hope that the creeping fate might end

            at a neighbour's door.

You cannot farm in the present

At least not in Wales.

The hills were silent memorials to herds brought low,

Uncropped: a tragedy of gr...

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Who could have known that's who he was

a man of Grump Land

---

His past added up to insecurity

that came out of his mouth

in the form of lampooning

Aspersion dribbled from his orifice

leaving a need for estuaries

in Grump Land for humans

to gain protection from his salty words

---

Yet there was a sweet spot

amongst the weeds and storms

A place he hid from mos...

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i am drawn to

    seas of clouds above in nothingness    

                    the seas of water

    the seas of open land and forests

    the cities with seas of

                        concrete and people

i was born to be a

                                sailor

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GOD’S LAND

As it reaches its zenith the midnight sun casts its pale light over this silent land.

Nothing stirs except the howling winter wind over miles and miles of emptiness.

No animal or man is to be found here, only the elements in their most basic form.

Earth, wind, fire and water. This is God’s land, a timeless placeless place.

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Look at this land, which is our land

Look at yellow sand

And at my hand;

Isn’t it grand?

Inhale this land, which is our land

It smells of lavender and spice

Of sweat,

And grass,

And mothers’ milk.

Listen to this land, which is our land:

Tune into the sounds that are around,

Of running water,

And laughter,

And the wind rustling thro...

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