To the Emerald Isle

Message from Antonionioni

Dear reader

I am off with some friends tomorrow to take part in a show called Poets' Express, which is taking place in Kilcrohane, County Cork, Ireland. Look out for it soon on the internet. Try Googling it. There should be video footage before too long. I will be performing four sonnets while playing electric guitar. It will be very tricky. I hope it goes well. Fingers crossed!

1395 - The Mahler problem

The last day of June; Mahler’s Third playing
Inside the laptop on which I type this
They’ve played them all at the Bridgewater Hall
Recently, a series I sadly missed
Part laziness, part no-one to go with
I try to listen sometimes in the car
To his long, often complex symphonies
But though I’m moving, I don’t get too far
In appreciating their beauty there
On motorways I hear brass thundering
But am deaf to those quiet spells of bliss
And introspection of which they are full
You almost have to devote an evening
No, many, to try to familiarise

1394 - The madness of kings, generally

Charles VI, called Beloved, also Mad
Was King of France from 1380 till
1422. Crowned while still a lad
Burgundy and Orléans’ dukes tried to fill
The vacuum, civil war starting to spill
Over the land, weakening it so that
The English gained relative strength; the skill
Of their bowmen crucial at Agincourt
King Charles, meanwhile, had regular mad fits
And even set his friends on fire, some dead
At the fateful Bal des Ardents, Saint Pol
(Parisian royal residence). He let
His daughter, Catherine, marry the proud
Henry V. Their son was also ill...

1393 - The strong arm of the tax law

I'm sitting, or should that be slumping, here
In the once-proud department of Customs
And Excise, now HMRC, where beer
And wine and cigs and fuel are all taxed, on
Top of VAT, with duty. The sun
Has popped behind the thin cloud; cooling breeze
Snaps the blinds back and forth; window open
Upon a Salford road junction. My knees
Ache less now they've been rested for some days:
No bike rides or runs. Even walks appear
To cause a groaning somewhere in my bones
Good news though on my home exercises
I used to do forty press-ups; then sheer
Collapse. Now I do sixty. Big strong arms!

1392 - Hang our heads in shame

Well done, Rooney! Not Wayne, of course, but a
400 metre runner named Martyn!
As for the too oft-feted footballer
And his comrades, they’ve been shown up again
Beckenbauer was right, criticising
Their ineptitude. We’ll no more believe
(Skinner and Co) that they can ever win
A tournament. Think golf and tennis. We’ve
Ballsed up time and again, in all sports. Leave
It out, and stick to our true behaviour -
Dodgy financial dealing, pocketing
Profit whenever we can, relying
On bullshit and technology, unfair
Advantage gained by money. It’s a sin!

1391 - Food, fun and football

A warm day, though with cloud over the north
Ate a huge lunch with Josie, then off to
Heaton Park boating lake, something so worth
Doing on a summer’s day; couples who
Rowed off into corners to kiss, some new
Romance before the bills and arguments
Rock the boat of love and eject the crew
Back home, I saw some happy Africans
As Ghana knocked out the Americans
From the World Cup. The success of the south
Goes on in this competition. A few
Europeans remain, like Spain. A tense
Day tomorrow: England once more go forth
Unto the breach; three lions in the zoo

1390 - Global feudalism and how to beat it

It seems so simple, how to save money
That’s what the government’s desperate to do
Make everyone, rich and poor, pay fifty
Per cent directly from their earnings: who
Could say that was unfair? Also then you
Would not need VAT (sales tax) which is
A kind of stealth tax, one which tends to screw
The poorer more than those with the riches
No need for taxes aimed at businesses
No corporation tax or NIC
No tax on enterprise at all helps to
Keep them competitive, saves jobs for us
Encourages our local companies
But anti-globalisation’s taboo

1389 - Shocks in South Africa

More shocks in the World Cup today. After
France’s humiliating exit, now
It’s Italy who advance no further
Knocked out by Slovakia. (Knocked out by who?!)
It just goes to show, Slovenia were no
Pushovers for England. And New Zealand
Finished above Italy. It seems so
Surreal, but entertaining. Africans
Apart from Ghana have, it’s true, fallen
Already, but Japan and Korea
(South, not North, thank goodness) are going through
Unless Denmark score three in the second
Half. Well, well. Things fall apart. The centre-
Back cannot hold. Coaches with furrowed brow

1388 - The same old story?

England scraped through their group in second place
Which is the norm for them, no matter who
They play. Every four years we see replayed
Their inept play, and yet they just scrape through
Today they beat Slovenia, with Defoe
The only goalscorer. Convenient, but
Not Australia’s beating Serbia: so
It’s Germany in the next round! Await
The stupid tabloid hype we always get
When we face ‘The Hun’… Let’s hope we don’t face
Another penalty shoot-out. We’ll go
Out if that’s the case. Practice, lads! Mindset
Must be positive; you must force the pace
Get in their half and show what you can do!

1387 - Do the sums add up?

Today’s Budget, the first Tory/Lib Dem
One since this Government formed, back in May
Saw the inevitable tightening
Of the national belt (or go the way
Of Greece, Ireland and Spain). And so today
The VAT rate increased to 20%
From January; that’s higher than they
Have ever set it here. Labour had spent
Too much, and the banks misgambled, and lent
Too easily. The Tories would have done
The same if they’d been in power. Now they
Are, shored up by the Liberals; indecent
Marriage of convenience? Surprised that some
Duty rise on booze and fags was delayed

1386 - The outer light

The longest day, and I woke too early
And it appears that I’m staying up late
Stonehenge looms large, and through it we can see
Plainly the sun rise like an orange plate
Now the year starts its decline, the year’s fate
Reflecting everyone’s in miniature
In moments miniscule and moments great
The end is presaged along with the year
And comforting notions dispel the fear
Sun gods, moon goddesses, gods we can see
And gods we can’t see or address or paint
Who wait for souls as bodies disappear
Wishful thinking and beer combine to free
Our inner selves from the body’s locked gate

1385 - Will practice make perfect?

I’ve worked real hard today recording songs
For a four track CD I want ready
By late next week, in time for Ireland
Yes, Poets’ Express, that’s where I will be
In Kilcrohane, West Cork, quite near Bantry
As well as singing them, I hope to sell
One or two copies of that same CD
So let’s hope that the performance goes well
These last few days, also, I’ll practise till
I know these four songs backwards, forwards and
Sideways, upside down, inside out, empty,
Full, half-full, half-empty; know them real well
My memory’s not that great; I’ve come undone
A few times; it’s so nerve-racking for me!

1384 - Off course

My daughter, Pearl, is coming home today
Four years at Oxford University
Are over for her, and she’s glad, I’d say
Such hard work for so long, but hopefully
A first or a good 2-1’s what she’ll be
Tomorrow (Father’s Day) we’re meeting up
For a catch-up over a Thai meal; we
Will bring our own wine and we’ll chat and sup
Marking a watershed moment; a stop
To learning and a start to earning. They
Are saddled early with big debt these days
And things are set to get worse quite quickly
For future students. Perhaps we will stop
Subsidising arts courses, now money
Is scarce; just fund vocational study?

1383 - England are shit

Oh no, another shit performance by
England, this time against Algeria
A nil-nil draw, and no shots on goal, Why
Do we support our team year after year?
It’s embarrassing, and it is quite clear
That we are poor at the game invented
On the muddy fields of England. A fear
Grips us on the big occasion; we’re dead
Just like Andy Murray and Lee Westwood
We are scared, because we know we are shy
On the world stage, exposed: there’s nothing there
We see once more that our team is a dud
That our skill levels are lacking, so why
Should we be surprised? Next, Slovenia…

1382 - Half empty cup

The World Cup in South Africa goes on
France, poor as ever, crashed to Mexico
Two goals to nil, while Argentina won
Easily against South Korea. Though
Nigeria had local support, no
Amount of that could help them against Greece
England will play Algeria tomorrow
And we’re hoping for a win by at least
One goal: that’s all. Please, goalie, don’t you grease
Your gloves this time. A shock yesterday: Spain
Lost to Switzerland, unluckily so,
Maybe, but the excitement has increased
There’s three more weeks left of this football fun
But what gains will it bring to Soweto?

1381 - Peasants of the world unite!

The 1381 Peasants’ Revolt
Shook the feudal system, already weak
After the Black Death. With the poll tax jolt
Caused by Edward III’s war, now the creak
In the old system was a crack. We seek
Equality today, as they did then
In the 1980s, once more it shook
The modern state, with riots in London
Against a new poll tax, and soon undone
Were more harsh revenue raising plans. Fault
Found with arrogant government. So speak
And we will be heard. Richard II,
The boy king, promised change, then called a halt
But change was due, despite royal mystique

1380 - The bloody truth will out

Today the summer sun shone on Derry
Lough Foyle was sparkling white and brightest blue
A crowd stood in the square and watched telly
An enormous screen for them all to view
The events of 1972
At last acknowledged, apologised for
By the UK Government, which had too
Long denied its crime; its Army at war
With the unarmed public that day. Folklore
Preserved, in murals and song, memories
And the families of the slain continued
Their fight for justice, year on year. We saw
Today, for some at least, a victory
Bloody Sunday, we will not forget you

1379 - Moon in June, obscured by clouds

So far, June has been flaming miserable
But that’s no surprise; skies are rarely blue
In summer, though it’s warmer; they are full
Of gruesome grey. We grimace at this view
Now and then and make plans to jet off to
Some getaway, or maybe just make dreams
Staying at home because our funds are few
And fun must be found around here. The themes
Of sport loom large: cycling, jogging; these schemes
For English summers can be quite helpful
To the health, or they can even hurt you
Bones aching, falling apart at the seams
Keeping busy’s my business; there’s trouble
In idleness. Something will see me through

1378 - The belle of the bells

What am I reading right now? It’s famous -
A nineteenth-century classic from France -
‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame.’ It’s Paris
In 1482. See that girl dance
In the Place de Grève; in her gypsy hands
A tambourine, a goat at her side. Far
Above in the bell tower, more than a glance
From the severe priest, once the rescuer
Of that deformed infant, now bell-ringer
Who also looks down on the girl. Phoebus,
A vain soldier, seems certain to advance
And storm her defences. Pierre Gringoire
Meanwhile, is merely her husband. The list
Of Esmeralda’s admirers expands…

1377 - Messi for Argentina, messy for England

The first World Cup game tonight for England
They played the USA, and of course, drew
In fact they nearly lost: Green got his hand
To an American shot, tipped onto
The post and out. Please don’t tell me that you
Think England can win the Cup after this
It wasn’t just Green’s error, but the few
Chances our forwards created and missed
That indicate our frustrating weakness
England are like France: predictable and
Vulnerable to counter-attack. Who
Is likely to win the trophy? Well this
Could be Spain’s time; or will Brazil descend
Once more like birds of prey, yellow and blue
Lionel Messi is Argentina's top goalscorer. Argentina beat Nigeria before England drew against the USA.

1376 - World Cup in motion

The World Cup in South Africa’s begun
It’s a four-yearly football tournament
In eight years’ time it could be in England
But for now it’s on the ‘dark continent’
For the first time ever. The first day went
Smoothly: two drawn games in the host team’s group
South Africa and Mexico had spent
Ninety minutes and then could only droop
At the final whistle, completely pooped
Later, France and Uruguay both came on
And bored us with nil-nil. One man was sent
Off: Wayne Rooney, take note! But there’s no hope
For England this time, is there? It’s no fun
Supporting them; it’s closer to torment

1375 - Rhythm is free

Rhythm guitar, this could be the answer
To all of life’s woes, making my life swing
I think maybe that my rhythm guitar
Could speak for me better than words that bring
Division, endless misunderstanding
For rhythm cannot be misunderstood
It is of the body, not of thinking
And so, like sport or dance, like leaves and wood
It unites through beauty, is clearly good
And can’t be opposed by religion or
Nationality. Without words, it sings
And stimulates the brain, muscles and blood
Ultimately, in times of debt, it’s far
Better to develop natural things

1374 - The heart of Spain

Life’s just like a night in a cheap hotel
Said Santa Teresa de Ávila
In between bouts of ecstasy. Her well-
Connected parts were collected after
Her death and exhumation, such as her
Arm and even her heart; both still preserved
In precious reliquaries. Spanish flair
For religion and art were both well-served
With these exhibits, and they also proved
Their morbid nature. Martyrs drawn by El
Greco or Ribera; death and torture
Velasquez’s ordinary poor folk have moved
The ages, as have his royals who fell
Into harsh decline with all España

1373 - God comes to Norwich

The year of the Divine Revelations
Was 1373, in Norwich
A lady hermit received these visions
And later wrote them down. She lay there, sick
And as she lay, she thought such fantastic
Thoughts that they surely had to be divine…
Such positive thoughts for a Catholic
For instance, we’re forgiven for all sin
And God really is love; anger is mine
And yours, but we grow out of it. Julian
Of Norwich, female medieval mystic
Also saw the divine as female, in
An early feminist theologian
Kind of way, an ancient to modern bridge

1372 - What the hell...?

We’re all going to hell in a handcart
We’re all in debt and can’t afford to live
My ex-wife has turned into an old tart
And when I’m dead no-one will even grieve
But things could be worse, so why not just laugh
When England lose in the World Cup, chuckle
Kiss a girl when you feel like you might heave
Run a marathon when your knees buckle
Creep up to your hated boss and tickle
Go to the Red Sea and blow till it parts
Get pubs to serve up their beer in a sieve
Heat your house until you hear flames crackle
On a date eat beans on a plate and fart
If you have a baby girl, call her Steve

Apologies again

Sorry folks for those whose comments keep coming up in far eastern language. I hope I will be able to fix this eventually.

Thanks

Tony

1371 - 6th of the 6th (no. 66)

It’s the sixth of the sixth, and sixty-six
Years since D-Day, the invasion of France
By Allied forces, from Pegasus Bridge
To Ste-Maire É glise; paratroopers land
In darkness to secure beach heads, so sands
Could be crossed safely at dawn. Omaha
Was a death-trap for the Americans
Because their tanks sank and they lacked cover.
Better served with equipment, though, further
East at Sword and Juno Beaches, new tricks
With flail tanks detonating mines; advance
Was easier towards Ouistreham for the
Canucks and their partners, the fighting Brits
The locals proffered wine by way of thanks

1370 - Lamentations

Israel, Israel, chosen but to suffer
Surrounded by enemies evicted
To make room for yourself on the land where
You once conquered through deep wounds inflicted
But from where many then emigrated
Or were dispersed by waves just like your own
Of warriors, devout, dedicated
The sunlit sword of Islam flashed and shone
As far as Vienna and southern Spain
You spread out far and wide, diaspora
From steppe to skyscraper, long resisted
And expelled. Then the idea of Zion
Returned to imperialist favour
And now your gates are locked, barricaded

1369 - Crying over spilt oil

The oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico
That began in April, an explosion
Killing eleven, causing oil to flow
From the exploded well, goes on and on
20 to 45 million gallons
Have leaked so far into that bright blue sea
And not till August can they envision
An end to the pollution, say BP
When relief wells are drilled to lessen the
Pressure at the blowout site. It's a low
Point for BP shareholders; value down
By 34% on the FTSE
Obama's hopping mad; won't even go
Abroad till the threat to the coastline's gone

Problems with comments

Dear readers

I must apologise but all the comments or most of them are appearing in a far eastern language and I don't know what to do about that. Unfortuntely i can't understand them. Does anyone have any advice? Is there something wrong with my site? Can I translate the language? The commenters must be able to speak and write English if they can understand my posts so that's what makes me wonder what is wrong with my site. Does it translate people's comments into Korean, or Japanese or whatever it is? I'd be grateful for any suggestions of what to do - in English of course!!!

If my readers can only comment in Korean, Japanese etc that is better than nothing and I am still grateful for your interest!!

Tony

1368 - The great wail of China

The year 1368 saw the Ming
Dynasty beginning its Chinese rule
Led by a mere peasant and sometime monk
Hongwu (or Hung-Wu), scourge of the Mongol
Expelling them from Beijing to the folds
Of the northern desert, shut out with walls
Stronger, higher, brick-built, it towers and rolls
For thousands of miles, although far from all
Intact; stolen stones, graffiti; it falls
Slowly with wind and time. Now, in Nanjing
The dead emperor lies beneath his stele
Deaf to his torture victims' cries and calls
Paranoid no more, the gain of losing
Life's burden of choice, power's chain and ball

1367 - Bird of prey

A lone taxi driver on the rampage
Shooting innocent bystanders, but why?
Twelve dead in Cumbria; what was the rage
And impotence that led them all to die?
A man called Birdy, he decides to fly
The nest of life, and take others down too
Wrong place, wrong time, poor souls. This man drives by
Winds down his window and fires, but at who?
Does it matter? Random revenge for too
Uncaring a world. L’étranger. This page
Will turn, but there’s no end to the story
Of disaffection people must go through
Murderers are normal, quiet, till the stage
Of complete collapse and a loud goodbye

1366 - Stella, you're a star

In the year 1366, Stella
Was first brewed in Leuven, Flanders, Belgium
In Britain it has been called ‘wife-beater’
A favourite tipple of violent chav scum
I sometimes buy it when the weekend comes
And drink it like a moron, getting pissed
Well, that’s what it’s for when all’s said and done
Especially when you know you won’t be kissed
Stella Artois comes high up in the list
Of famous beers exported all over
For centuries the horses pulled the drums
Along the rutted dusty tracks, through mist
And mud, the taverns full of fine fellas
Paying for troubles to be overcome

1365 - Manc holiday

It’s been a long day: TV, then running
In the park; then, listening to reggae here
In the flat, while at the same time chatting
To Miklos, who’s well-known on the Magyar
Comedy scene (in Hungary, my dear…)
I ate, did clothes washing, and, as usual
I had a little practice on guitar
This time only my own material
Namely, the four sonnets I need to nail
In time for Ireland; that show is getting
Closer now - a month to go. Then I steered
Along the motorway to the Wirral:
Moreton, to be more spot-on; an evening
Of poems and music…S’fun to be there