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New Blood

New blood spills from the aeroplane

bouncing on the runway like spring rain.

Passport waving out-thrust arm

fancy shoes pointed West

Gene Kelly, video obsessed

dancing peasant with the happiness gene.

Tie straight, collar clean

mad for the chance to twirl his cane

at girls in some teeming town

Sun-parched backwoodsman mad for rain.

 

Radio waves from some man-made ...

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migrationstatue of libertyThe West

De Jeune

 

Sometimes, inspiration and imagination have strange effects.

 

De Jeune

 

Swallows dive, swoon

like wind-swayed ink drops

down, and beyond the light:

 

swallowed by the sky,

flown blue, over

road-birds – honed

by simple flight.

 

Like arrows in Canada

in thunderhead afternoons:

clouds rolling, rutting hinds

in migration, pounding sand-trails,

...

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arrowsAutumnCanadadropsdusthailhorizonJeunemigrationmirageroad-birdssteelswallowedswallowswheatwillow

Migration

Their collective decision is made
No words detected, but a powerful call
From within and a shift in the weather;
It's time to leave - to begin the mighty migration
 
250km of harsh terrain lie ahead
From the Chobe river to the hopeful paradise of Nxai Pan
Open plains, dense forrests
And all too many enemies lie in wait
 
Packs of wild dogs and hyenas
Leopards, snakes and vulture...

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migration

The better evil (revised)

 

Intimidated by political tugs
Prone to insert in one's mouth
The nose of a loaded gun
Or suspend a plastic bottle full of water
On males' reproductive organ,
Devoid of freedom of expression
Also denied  to his right and
Deplorable condition drawing attention
Shunning his God chosen land,
What is more a bright and warm country
Under the sun ,a journalist dreaming began
Fighting al...

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refugemigrationmigrantsatavismtra

How to get everything you ever wanted

1.
Invent a war.
Something bloody and fratricidal.
Lose an uncle to barrel bombs
a brother to secret police.

2.
Three years in, flee.
Pack only what you can carry:
clothes, smartphone, children, cash.
Slip away at night, in silence.

3.
Take your leave of the flat, bakery, office,
rubble-filled streets where the kids once ran
shell of the cafe where old men
drank qahwa, played she...

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syriarefugeeswarpoliticsmigration

Sepulchral Body.

I forget how once
I recited your name.
Frayed blossom spent
seven thorns from seven wounds
of loving you.

Sepulchral body
rhythmic dancing
rupturing those vessels
 from the  pungent flesh of servitude
The garden – my garden
 now barren and prickly
a desert cactus
gouging the flesh
cold and bare rock faced.

I observe those migratory birds
soaring their temperate destination
as...

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hurtlovemigrationpoetry

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