Monday, 31 August 2015

Alice in Wonderland Politics

(Alice in Wonderland politics from the man, that led us down the rabbit hole  in search of Weapons of Mass Destruction. A mad  war criminal, who is wanted dead or alive.The following poem is dedicated to Jeremy Corbyn)

I'd rather be with Alice, in wonderland
Wandering in another world,
Where the mad hatter's chatter
Is more benign than those that rule outside.

Lost in a landscape of discovery
Beyond the paths of conformity,
Away from lifeless ideology
The cynical power political game.

After all life is but a dream
I'm  on the road to somewhere else,
Sailing on the unblemished glitter of sea,
With beautiful visions, that could set us free.

Reinventing the earth
Is a task that we must face,
Quelling this flame with hope
Is most important challenge of our time.

Developing different realities
Looking for something better,
A sudden and Trembling  yearning
For peace and justice, for us down below. 

Sunday, 30 August 2015

The shame of Fortress Europe

( dedicated to all anti-immigration voices of anti-cultural diversity who spend their lives spreading lies about migrants and refugees. )

Despite, the Walls of shame,
people carry on, walking proud,
fear cannot contain a peoples will,
behind razor wires, dreams survive,
but some  people still afraid to let them pass,
allow purposes to be left unfulfilled and unknown,
left empty, tired, unfed, broken and abandoned,
ancient voices scattered on the wind.

The pain in their eyes moves my heart,
as they tumble forwards to sanctuary,
ending up with nothing, but pain and hurt,
their time  spent in sorrow,
the chaos that roams, in pursuit of liberty,
the scarred, patterns of the earth,
the shameful shadows shaped like stone,
all this we must feel.

                                   European union - Banksy

Saturday, 29 August 2015

How to start each day with a positive outlook.

Feeling good today, because it's my birthday, off to hospital in minute  to share this with partner, in the meantime, thought I'd share some here.

1. Create a new file on your computer

2. Name it " David Cameron "

3. Send it to recycle bin.

4. Empty the recycle bin.

5. Your computer will ask you "Do you really want to get rid of David Cameron?

6. Firmly click "Yes".

Feel better, good. Keep going, delete the rest of his cronies.  

Thursday, 27 August 2015

Poem for Ian Duncan Smith

(This week has seen the release of figures that show that 2,650 people died between Dec 2011 and Feb 2014, after being declared Fit for work by the DWP. Almost half of those who died were appealing the decision.
Over 2,500 peoples lives were  made unbearable as a direct result of Ian Duncan Smith's decision of withdrawing the very money that would have made their lives a little more bearable towards the end of their days.I can't say this is my best work, but I believe IDS deserves it. probably deserves far worse) Shocking figures that reveal the human cost of this Government's punishing benefits regime.

Ian Duncan Smith, is surely a bit unstable,
what kind of  real work has he ever done,
living for the moment, cracking the whip,
driving the poor, the disabled and vulnerable,
to their untimely deaths, because they were fragile.

Ian Duncan Smith, his eyes betray the feeling of joylessness,
a disregard for peoples feelings, with an arrogant air, an ugly streak,
he can be found where  dark shadows crawl and nightmares lurk,
releasing the pain of nastiness, without pang of regret or care,
making life unbearable, giving life to misery, from his hollow lair.

Ian Duncan Smith does not listen, as faraway winds howl,
and the tears keep on falling, as he goes on the prowl, 
pouring spite on broken spirits, releasing platitudes of austerity,
cut and cut, is a manouevre he has long practiced, as we scream and cry,
a liar of the first order, having lied about his education, and his army career.

Ian Duncan Smith plays the devil's tune,
as he blames us, and shames us with his words,
we must find the strength to fight against his ideas,
carry on, resisting, pushing back, against his verbal diarrheas, 
until  his empty gestures, disappears in the clarity of light.

Wednesday, 26 August 2015

Asian Dub Foundation - Fortress Europe

In the news today, Hungarian police tear gas refugees while Nazis try to attack and burn down asylum centres in Germany. The above song ' Fortress Europe' may have been written in 2001, it was a rediction of the future. Amazingly prophetic. That future has now arrived. This is a 21st Century exodus. This generation has no nation. No borders, only true connection. Keep banging on the walls of Fortress Europe.

Tuesday, 25 August 2015

Problematic friends?

It has been pointed out to me by a few people that Jeremy Corbyn seems to have problematic friendships. But his challenge to austerity still seems to be winning  the hearts and minds of the people.
The right wing press bang on about him being photographed with Gerry Adams, and with people from Hamas and Hezbullah, but this  what you have to do sometimes to try and find peaceful compromises.I really wish that people in his own party would have the guts to attack the Tory's with as much enthusiasm as they do on Jeremy.It is David Cameron and his ilk who are more than dodgy. The people of this country need to be rescued from them not from Jeremy's hope filled policies. The Tory's know that their austerity cuts are actually killing people.
Jeremy's motives  I believe to be  honest and genuine and pales compared to some of the politicians pictured above, who have used their positions and influence to cosy up to despots, tyrants, bullies, in order to increase their bank accounts/wealth or to sell weapons.
At the end of the day, the more people that line up to attack Jeremy's person and policies, the stronger it is, he becomes.
John Pilger summed up my thoughts recently -

' Ordinary people are so frustrated all over the world, that their views are not reflected by their politicians. Suddenly up comes a man who, first of all, is completely incorruptible. He's decent, he doesn't abuse people, he doesn't play games, he doesn't want to go to war with countries, he doesn't want to bomb countries,he doesn't want to see people impoverished and he doesn't want to see extremely rich interest make of with billions of pounds... he's cheered people up and given them a sense that maybe change is possible. '

Sunday, 23 August 2015

Where has our humanity gone?

I was watching a Channel 4 report from the Macedonian border yesterday. Scenes of chaos as people try to  passing their children and their babies forward, to get them to safety. Families seperated, children left in tears. Treated inhumanely as riot police beat them with batons.
These people have managed to escape Assad's barrel bombs, the horror of Isis, and wrongly believe people will show them some humanity. How shameful it is that Fortress Europe cannot offer them  a safe haven. We have funded and armed their oppressors, and now some people are pissed off, because they want to escape and live. Let us not forget that more than 220,000 Syrians have been killed since the start of the war in their country. Plus 7.6 million displaced, roaming from town to town, looking for safety. But still have this incredible will to survive. Today I thank my lucky stars that I can  go and visit a dear friend and soul mate, and feel safe in her company.
Where has our humanity gone? Wherever it lies, I think it has failed. Does it not have a duty in helping vulnerable people, play our part in helping them finding homes and allow them to rebuild their lives. We must protect those fleeing conflict and persecution.

Do we even really care?  - Tjeerd Rowlands

Friday, 21 August 2015

Time traveller

( following poem, written  after daily visits from Cardigan to Glangwili hospital, Carmarthen, to visit partner. Now nearly into fourth week )

Time traveller

I awake in a jumble of tiredness,
the hands of the clock, don't seem to be working,
the flowers in the vase,though, are still looking thirsty,
time is getting blurred, everything now, runs in slow motion.

tick tock, tick tock.

I have lost sense  of borders, never recognised them anyway!
I slip slowly into the world, watch the planets far away circling,
a million light years away, keep on searching,keep on talking,
forseeing the future, looking back upon the past.

tick tock, tick tock.

On long journeys, in the company of friends,
hours allow us to reveal ourselves, exactly as we are,
as we travel along the same lines, carried in the right direction,
to take some reflection and thought, back and forth.

tick tock, tick tock.

Everyday we ride on the flip side of existence,
I feel neither safe nor threatened,it is just a question of time,
on familiar routes,that take me away from here,
ask questions, pause for moments.

tick tock, tick tock.

As the afternoon crawls, and the evening calls,
visiting time over, one last kiss,
two hearts beating say goodbye,
feel the throb of the moment,
precious as the day that rolls on by.

tick tock, tick tock.

When we get lost, we often get found,
between the cement of here and now,
memories sigh, but there is no going back to yesterday,
we can only keep on moving, towards tomorrow,
everything changes, outside dawn is breaking.

tick tock, tick tock.

Wednesday, 19 August 2015

Frederico Garcia Lorca ( 5/6/1896 -19/8/36 ) - Death of a Poet

Frederico Carcia Lorca, Andalucian poet, dramatist and artist, hero of mine, was murdered by fascist militiamen  on this day  the eighteenth of August 1936..
Throughout his all too short but trailblazing life, death had been his central artistic theme, it seems he had foretold his own violent death, when he wrote  ' Then I realised I had been murdered. They  looked for me in cafes, cemeteries and churches - but they did not find me. They never found me. They never found me.'
Few artists, have represented and embodied their nations collective spirit more than Lorca - which makes  the tragic account of his death all the more heartbreaking.
Born on 5 June 1898 in the village of Fuente Vaqeurtos in the province of Granada, a man ahead of his time, avant gardist, homosexual and restless traveller, the most  gypsy of poets , a term he rejected, friend of surrealists, developing his own ingenious style, full of lyrical freshness and spontaneity. His poems  painted a vivid and intrinsic poetical portrait of Spain and the region of Andalucía in particular. A poet of the universal, who used his voice to speak about love, death, passion, cruelty and injustice, and also the most international, saying - ' I sing to Spain, and I feel her to the core of my being, but above all Iam a man of the world and brother of everyone.'
Shortly  after the Spanish Civil War broke out in July 1938, Lorca made the misguided decision to leave the  safe enclave of Madrid, to be with his family, in the conservative hometown og  Granada. Almost immediately after he had arrived, the area was seized by the Nationalist Fallangists. In spite of carefully cultivating an apolitical stance, his association with the Republic made him a marked man. His plays also dealt with repression, and some anti-Catholic opinions in interviews made him a high profile target.
Despite going into hiding the Fallangists hunted him down. He was arrested and imprisoned, without trial and charge, and mercilessly tortured. On August 19th at around 3.00 a.m he was handcuffed to another prisoner ( a teacher). shortly before  dawn he was taken out along with the teacher and two bullfighters ( members of the Anarchist Trade Union CNT), three guards struck Lorca's body with the butts of their rifles, then he was shot, his body riddle with bullets. Some say he was  murdered because of his sexuality,  as well as his politics. The body of Frederico Garcia, one of the greatest poets and playwrights  of the twentieth century and  one of Spain's most prodigious sons was unceremoniously dumped in a hastily dug hole, soon to be a mass grave. Despite years of efforts his body I believe has never been found.The fascist forces then tried to erase his memory, burning and banning  his books.Lorca’s writing, considered deeply homoerotic, was banned until 1954 and censored until 1975.One thing is for certain his life would not be forgotten. Lorca's voice would still  belong to humanity. An emblem who gave his  life for Spain, a martyr of it's people. He once said ' I will always be on the side of those who have nothing and who are not even allowed  to enjoy the nothing they have in peace. Many years  after his death his voice still rings out, where bullets were unable to silence him.

Frederico Garcia Lorca -  Before the Dawn

But like love
the archers
are blind

Upon the green night,
the piercing saetas
leave traces of warm

The Keel of the moon
breaks through purple clouds
and their quivers
still with dew

Aye, but like love
the archers
are blind!

Frederico Garcia Lorca - Farewell

If I die,
leave the balcony open.

The little boy is eating orange
(from my balcony I can see him.)

The reaper is harvesting the wheat
(from my balcony I can hear him,)

If I die
leave the balcony open!

Tuesday, 18 August 2015

Let us be grateful for the people who make us happy - Marcel Proust (10/7/1871 - 18/11-22)

                                     image by Klint.

"Let us be grateful to the people that make us happy:

They are the gardeners who make our souls blossom. "

For Jane, who makes so many other souls blossom, and  all her friends , that continue to be.


Monday, 17 August 2015

This is not journalism, this is trash!

What an absolute ridiculous headline. This is not news!  Who cares whether he used to eat cold beans. The tabloid press are really trying to scrape the barrel, clutching at straws they are, trying so hard to get some dirt on our Jeremy, but nowt a dicky bird. Watch out for Tony Blair too, as he comes out of his cocoon, looking for  Jeremy's weapons of mass destruction.
Give me an honest politician who happens to be committed to the causes he loves and happens to like cats and cold  baked beans anyday, the Daily Mail can simply **** off.

Anyway the late great Tony Benn sums up my feelings on old Jeremy.

"In politics there are weathercocks and signposts. Weathercocks will spin in whatever direction the wind of public opinion may blow them, no matter what principle they compromise.
Then  there are signposts -signposts that  stand true and tall, and principled.
They point in a direction, and they say ' this is the way to a better society, and it is my job to convince you why.'

The Daily Mail and the establishment  irked by someone who presents alernative policies that loudly and clearly oppose austerity and doomed Tory policies, so  Jeremy, carry on regardless, onwards and forwards. 

Sunday, 16 August 2015

Peterloo massacre remembered

The Peterloo massacre is the term given to an attack by Yeomanry cavalry on a pro-parliamentary reform demonstration which had  converged on  St Peters Field  in Manchester on 16th August 1819, since renamed St Peters Square. Where over 60,000 peaceful pro-democracy and anti- poverty protestors had gathered, amid a time of growing poverty  and unemployment, mainly caused by the Corn Laws that artificially inflated bread prices at a time when only 2% could vote. According to contemporary accounts  those that assembled carried themselves  with dignity and discipline, the majority dressed in their sunday best.
The key speaker was a famed orator by the name of Henry Hunt, the platform consisted of a simple cart, and the space was filled with banners - Reform, universal suffrage, equal representation, and love. Many of the banners poles were topped with red  cap of liberty- a powerful symbol at the time.
Local magistrates panicked at the  sheer size of the crowd and read out the riot act, and ordered in the military to arrest the speaker. The cavalry hussars charged and attacked the meeting, riding their horses into the crowd. The end result left at least 15 dead and up to 700 seriously injured. It is not known how many of the injured died later  from wounds inflicted by sabre wielding cavalry. The massacre was named Peterloo in an ironic comparison to the Battle of Waterloo which had taken place 4 years earlier
It would  lead to  the suppression of public expression of opinion, debate, gathering and dissent, which unleashed a wave of public anger and protests, which eventually was to lead to the Great Reform Act of 1832, which led  to limited suffrage, and todays still limited parliamentary democracy. It also gave rise to the Chartist movement, and the strength of the Trade Union movement.
We should never forget on whose shoulders  we stand. It also was marked shortly after by Percy Bysshe Shelley's powerful 91 verse epic The Masque of Anarchy.
A reminder  today that such rights that we have today were hard one, but are  slowly being taken away by this current vicious Tory Government. All roads lead to Manchester where the Tory's will be having their winter conference in October, we must continue to display our defiance. 

" Shake your chains to earth like dew,
 ye are many -they are few " - Percy Bysshe Shelley

Link to Masque of Anarchy

Thursday, 13 August 2015

Never give up hope ( for the children of Gaza and Palestine)

(despite my partner currently being very ill in hospital I can  never give up hope)

The two pictures included here are of Children playing on the beach in Gaza and on the streets of Palestine.
There are close  to 800,000 children currently living in Gaza, they make up more than half the population. 
Despite  the heartbreak they have suffered, it is amazing that these children can still find time to play, smile  and flash peace signs despite of the terror and hatred that no child should ever have to face. They and the people of Gaza, continue  to give us hope and will be forever remembered for their courage and resilience theyhave shown the world in the most trying of times.
Increasingly isolated by a blockade that prevents  anyone rebuilding their homes and their lives.
They remind me, that we should never give up hope.

Hope and Play is an organisation that helps to provide the children in occupied Palestinian territories and refugee camps the chance to  play, live and learn.
You will find a link here:-

Tuesday, 11 August 2015

We need to talk about Jeremy

Today  is the last chance to vote  for Jeremy Corbyn as leader of the Labour Party,  a person that I believe to  be one  of the  most honest people to have emerged  in Britains  frontline politics. A hard working, conscientious  M.P, veteran trade unionist and anti-war activist, a figure  of the real proper left.
A strong voice in opposing Tory austerity, the 2003 Iraq war,  freedom for the Palestinian people,  supporting my views of hope, strongly supporting the causes of the environment, peace and social justice.
constantly standing against the senseless wastes of human life  that have  plagued this country. Genuinely saying it how it is.
It is only £3  to sign up as a supporter, or free if you are  a unison or unite member.  We should not believe  the media's relentless attacks on Jeremy,  they are not watching out for us, Jeremy is a threat to the elite and needs all the support he can get.
On the other hand I have long believed the Labour Party to be dead,  so will not be rushing to rejoin, I left  in the 1980's as they were expelling friends and comrades from it's  ranks, and  turning into  New Labour, under the treacherous direction of the likes of Tony Blair, and that spineless traitor Neil Kinnock.
If Jeremy changes the Labour Party's direction, turns it into a fighting party again, defending the poor, the weak and vulnerable that will be good.  If  he enables  us to keep challenging the status quo, then all will not be lost, if he  allows us  to keep saying no to austerity , by spreading good words of solidarity and hope, that fuel our rightful anger, then  possibly all will not be lost. Hopefully Jeremy will allow us to  restore some faith,  in our minds and hearts.
We must start building alternatives, build a strong social movement , that changes society into a force of good and change, instead of one that is cruel and divided.
Good luck Jeremy Corbyn.  

Saturday, 8 August 2015

Gaza Art: Remembering 400 dead children

Palestinian artist Majdal Nateel, painted the following images to commemorate 400 of the  children who died in Gaza last summer - but she is not even permitted  to leave Gaza to see them currently on display in London's King Cross, after they were bought  back by the journalist Jon Snow last month.
Powerful stuff drawn  on cement bag fragments, used to to deliver limited supplies  of cement to families whose homes were bombed. Imaging the dreams and aspirations of the children who died. Ongoing restrictions of cement and other materials means that many children who survived the conflict are still without homes.l I hope the people  of the UK will get to see these pictures and understand the terrible suffering that Israel has inflicted on  innocent  children.
The artist Majdal Nateel is 29. the mother of two young daughters, and lives in Gaza city. This exhibition gives her a rare chance to showcase her work outside Gaza. Respect to Jon Snow for bringing them over. 

Friday, 7 August 2015

Si Mohammed Bel Hassan el Soudani - B, 1959, Rec. by Paul Bowles

In my opinion, a rather wonderful musical interval.
Bye for now..... heddwch/peace.

Thursday, 6 August 2015

Remembering Hiroshima

70 years ago  today at 8.15, August 6th, 1945, the city of Hiroshima was destroyed with an atomic bomb. In a  matter of a few minutes, hundreds of thousands of  innocent people lost their lives in this  cowardly attack. Three days later the city of Nagasaki met the same fate. Combined it resulted in the deaths of over 400,000 people.
Today I cry,  no more Hiroshimas, no more Nagasakis, Ban nuclear weapons.
As people across Wales and all over the world will be remembering this devastation.
Sending clear messages to the Welsh government and to governments across the world that nuclear weapons are not needed, here, or anywhere. We should remember that it is a crime to prepare for mass murder. Trident is a crime, it is a criminal weapon.
It should be unthinkable today that the horrors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki should ever be repeated. Let us remember today, and continue on our journey today towards peaceful change.
Lets forever give peace a chance.

Wednesday, 5 August 2015

No time for tears

another poem for  my  dear Jane.
holding on,  not letting go.

No times for tears, they can wait,
because under it's weight you can sink,
time now to muster some strength,
allow friends to release silent prayers,
powerful chants, in times of distress,
to  lend a hand, of faithfulness,
to  break down and open doors of light.

The brilliance of friendship,
in this present time  is good,
stitches together the continuity of hope,
sprinkles some light among the branches,
into this distracting world of thought,
giving comfort to current spaces of meaning ,
a friendly pulse, a force of good in time's struggle.

Solidarity is  love, gives us strength,
let 's keep on  delivering, it's message,
allow it to run free,
pumping adrenalin into the veins,
of all  those still grappling,
allow it to rescue and restore,
all vestiges of hope.

When then sun goes down,
and the night is long,
solidarity's breath is the master of dreams,
gives us love, harbours strength ,
so keep it protected, with all your hearts,
allow it's presence, to light  the world with change,
to serve and protect every persistent day.

Tuesday, 4 August 2015

Solidarity with humanity.

At a time  when people should be rising up in solidarity  about the rotten establishment, the reckless bankers, the corrupt politicians, and the greedy, people are  pointing the  finger of blame at those  that don't deserve to be attacked,  people like the unemployed, the underpaid, and  currently  receiving  much vitriol migrants.
The  language of  racism and xenophobia  on full display,  politicians daily  speaking  and inflaming the situation, with voices completely devoid of compassion, using the language of division  and hate on those most undeserving.  The spectre of fascism, once again  is on open display across Europe .
The freedom of movement is a universal  right recognised by international law, but politicians, apart from a few  do not seem to be taking this right seriously.
The crisis in Calais happening right now is a humanitarian crisis, people fleeing injustices in desperation,  we should  not be blaming  them,  or treating them like criminals, or as less than human, we should be treating  them with tolerance and dignity, offering them our hands of friendship.
It is not  by chance  that so many desperate  people try to enter the UK, as well as other rich countries, we must remember  that in their own homelands, they do  not even have  the basic conditions that dives them a means of survival. At the end of the day , they have no choice to try and escape, and try to reach Europe every day.
Collectively we must  oppose migrant detention  and removal measures to protect  these  people's human rights. The continual struggle of migrants, which they have determined  for themselves, must be supported against the daily oppression that they face. It should encourage us to  be more more active, to give  solidarity with all struggling migrants  everywhere.
David Cameron should  be condemned for playing politics  with the situation in Calais, trying to whip up fear and hostility to those that are seeking refuge, start looking  for a more  humanitarian solution to the situation. In the meantime there are thousands  of people across the  continent  who are filling the void left by politicians,  urging them to take responsibility  and solidarity in taking in more migrants.  We should also  be following the   example of   other countries, with a reasonable response,  take Sweden for example, who  are currently  allowing anyone from Syria into their country, who last year alone accepted 30,000 asylum seekers, compared to the UK's meagre pathetic 10,000.
Europe must belong to everyone, not just  profiteers,  we must continue to protect  desperate people trying to flee  imperialist wars, repression and poverty, following dangerous routes across land and sea.
No one is illegal, but solidarity is love.

Sunday, 2 August 2015

When the siege is broken; A poem for Gaza

One year after the 2014 war that killed more than 2,000 Palestinians and destroyed thousands of homes, people in Gaza are still struggling to survive under awful living conditions and a crippling blockade.
A place of daily struggle for the 1.6 million living here under Israeli siege, in the tiny Gaza strip, one of the most densely populated paces on the planet, that has since 2007 suffered under the brutal Israel Land, air and sea blockade.
After the latest assault, entire neighbourhoods are inaccessible,  medical and medical disposables in shortage. The blockade has caused increased unemployment, loss of agricultural land, decline in incomes from fishing due  to restrictions imposed  by the Israeli Navy and daily problems obtaining raw materials, and everyday manufactured products. With health impaired by  a population impoverished, together with psychological problems, caused by the ordeal of confinement, to this open prison.
Lifting the blockade would enable Gaza to trade again. And if this happened the economy could grow by almost $4 billion. Local businesses and farmers could earn decent livings again. People could afford to feed their families and put their children through school or college and get access to safe water. We must be able to give some hope of a better future for the people of Gaza, it is more than enough time that they are given their dignity back to be allowed an economic life that has been denied to them for years,  to be allowed to travel and trade again.
Yes it is more than time that the blockade is lifted, for people to be connected with friends and family in the West Bank again,  the blockade of human rights and international law, an obstacle to freedom and peace.
The following a poem, that looks forward to a time when the siege and blockade is over.

When the siege is broken

From a dream within a dream,
freedom's breath kept calling,
the degradation just had to end,
a change needed to be delivered,
between the wall and sea,
the keys of promise allowed to return,
allow the struggling bird, to trace some light.

The future blossoms again,
green on the land,the dawn wakes to song,
instead of the rattle of gunfire and missiles,
the morning  moves with softness,
as cypresses sway, under the shade of oak trees,
jasmines scent floats, the smell of oranges, 
                                              sweet on the breeze.

Beyond the rubble of the past,
children play in jubilation,
farmers toil in the afternoon sun,
the fruit of their soil alive again,
a paradise is regained from oppression,
though weeping tears will never cease,
olive branches now glisten with hope,
fishermen go far out to cast  their nets,
smiling sharing salted bread,
to bring back home  a rich harvest.

Safe from captivity, no longer in a living hell,
hearts again, existing in peace,
the dream continues,
lights a path away from the dark,
as speakers ring out, a familiar call for prayer,
a conflagration of new beginnings,
returns some mercy.   

poem written last week before I became aware of extent of  my partners illness, a cause that we both share  together.