To a Bay mare.

         Her hay-whisking and heave-sighing
         inside the musty shade of stable walls
         I rejoice in.
         That, and the push of her warm-skinned flank
         against me.

         Dressing down the proud of her straight cannon bone
         is something delightful.
         That, and the pulling of her dry, wax mane.
         That, and the sound of her dull, straw-thudding hooves,
         of her weight-shifting listlessness.
         That, and the dust-cloud rising from her quarters
         as if from an old sofa.  
         That, and the ripple and shine of neck and shoulder
         brushed over and over again.
         How could I tire of feeling
         the moleskin muzzle
         hoovering my palms.

         How could I tire of the thickly-lashed eyes
         and skew-whiff star between.
         How could I tire of that, and the assurance
         of a thing never changing-
         though I know it must.

At the end of the day

At the end of the day,
a new day begins.
At the end of the day,
see what nightfall brings.
At the end of the day- and which day
did you have in mind?

At the end of the day,you can't draw lines
in the sand.
The chapter closes, but the story never ends.
The sun goes down, but never really sets.

At the end of the day,
you'll be far, far away-
And If it really is the end of the day
no-one will know it--anyway

Pit Bull Panic ...

So we're rounding up dangerous dogs following the savaging of a little girl
by a pitbull terrier in Liverpool. Several 'dangerous dogs' were rounded up,
leaving the rest, several hundred thousand roaming around and including two
of the most wanted , one T.Blair and G.Bush still at large.

Merseyside Police have so far arrested 20 dogs ... oh, make that 28.

.. .. .and the pitbullometer is still swinging!

City of Culture II

John Lennon used to call it Talk Hall
now Liverpool is branding Speke Hall,
John Lennon, Black History and all.
His widow spider wife
gorges on memories.
She doesn't talk about
giving peace a chance anymore...
She'd rather give the yen a chance,
Then again-
John had a private bank account-
at Coutts by all accounts.

Liverpool Airport had become
too pedestrian a name
for the City of Culture
so they renamed it
John Lennon Airport.

'Above us only sky'
read the logo on the new billboard
cribbed from a John Lennon song.
Sorry John,
but above us are only
thousands of vapour trails
criss-crossing the sky

Climate Change.

The smokescreen of democracy
soon became a snowstorm,
then a blizzard,
then a white-out.

The word 'terror'
was rained down upon them
until, awash with fear
and thinking themselves drowning
they howled 'Freedom!'
into theTrade Winds,
bellowed for a New Dawn,
for the winds of change
to sweep all before them-
hailed the Emperor's reign
(even in the land of the Rising Sun).

Their barometers, tapped hysterically
measured clouds of dissent,
promised Westerly winds and clear blue sky.
They thundered meaningfully about
'The End Of The Day',
told us we were talking a load of hot air
(even though it had become increasingly clear
that Nature never lies.)

Slobodan Milosevic, the name on everyone's lips....

The Trial continues.....

This is the fifth year of The Trial

of the first head of state

to be indicted for war crimes.

He is 64 and faces 66 charges

dating from the 1990's.

350 witnesses have taken the stand.

Thousands of Muslims were killed

in genocides and separate military offensives

in Bosnia, Kosovo and Croatia.

A whole battery of presidents

may defend him though two have comitted suicide

There are 22 days left in the trial

Three judges will deliberate

for a further month.

The trial has been adjourned 20 times

(Milosevic had many instances of ill-health

like flu and high blood pressure).

Since 2003,the trial has taken place

3 times per week for the self-acting president.

Estimates of those killed have been halved

by a project designed to decide exactly

how many were killed by Milosevic.

The project was designed by a Norwegian Centre

at a cost of 450 euro-dollars.

It will produce the final death toll figures

at the end of March.

A verdict may be reached at the end of 2007.

The trial continues.....

Thoughts before the Occupation.

The sound and smell of barbarism
reach you long before the acts are begun.
the stench and pall of lies hang thick in the air,
blocking the airways,
blocking the airwaves-
are you ready to stomach them?

Will you watch the tide turning back,
turning black,
turning red, white and blue.

Will you run with the hounds
the wolves, the dogs of war,
blooding your mind?

Will you spectate through C.N.N.
or bury your head in the sands of time
at the sight of mass murder,
murder of the media,
murder in the sands.

And will you raise your voice,
vainglorious as the cluster bombs
rain down remorselessly,
as the Daisycutters
hurl gored fragments. . .
. . . . .and the carnage
is airbrushed away?

Or listen while Dick Chain'em up
revs up the war chainsaw?
Or watch while Wolfowitz
and the wolves close in?

Or rejoice while America
stops your mouth with Big Macs and Coke
while it pours away French wine.

America Inc. is coming,
blasting the cradle
of civilization to hell,
hurling its muddy lies.

Mud sticks,
but the truth is always con