Poetry – Kenya

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Kenya

Kenya – where the rich red soil of Africa is like the living blood of life,

Where bones protrude from the soil in profusion,

Testament to the proliferation of the creatures that were there before.

Kenya – whose valley was the seat of all our births.

Whose yellow sun and blue sky still shine as it did on the very first;

The first of us to stand tall, pick up a tool and question the stars.

Kenya – where the elephant once roamed in huge numbers and the game grazed the plains

Providing rich pickings for those who were there to be part of that web.

Kenya – where the air sang to the ears of those first people, where the land glowed with colour and the breeze was pungent with the scent of life.

Kenya where camp-fires warmed the soul with chatter and tales of daring

Where the stars mysteriously glistened and mystery abounded with wonder.

Kenya – where it began for us.

Now I want to stand in that valley, tease out the bones to remind me of the past, taste that breeze and look up at that sky

Just to see if there are any traces left of that magic.

For Kenya – I fear we’ve left our souls in the spilt blood of your soil, yet our bones are still inexplicably walking.

I would bury myself in your soil where I belong.

Opher 1.9.2017

Africa is where humans evolved. I have an affinity for that red soil – to walk the Olduvai Gorge where the fossil bones litter the ground. Once Africa teemed with life. Once we roamed there freely hunting that bounty. Now we are spread across the planet in our billions, nature is on the run and our old ways are no more.

Fortified Country Homes

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I can’t remember the name of this. The country is littered with them – the fortified homes of the robber barons who took everything by force and were rewarded for their efforts by the chief robber.

The grounds were beautiful and the ‘castle’ picturesque; the history gruesome.

Poetry – Calling Time on the Past

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Calling Time on the Past

Travelling cross-country on a train

Past old factories and warehouses,

Relics from a past age,

Looking forlorn, drab and neglected,

In disrepair.

Yesterday’s dreams tarnished with time,

Clinging on desperately for grim life.

The drab brick discoloured and faded,

Adorned with soot and graffiti,

Amidst debris and litter,

Festooned with razor-wire –

No longer the hope of the future,

Now ageing limpets

Adhering to an eroding rock

And knowing

That a big storm is already on its way.

There is no profit sufficient to restore their glory.

They are left hanging on,

And on, and on, and on,

On a wish.

Displaced by robots and cheap labour abroad,

Yet still with full carparks of workers cars.

Workers who are disgruntled,

Ever settling for less,

Keep an anxious eye on an approaching exit;

To the days when weeds and shards of glass

Will displace the clatter of machinery and chatter.

Time to move on.

Time to invent the new.

Time to seek a different way.

Time to leave the past behind.

Time to learn new skills.

For the old ways are busy dying.

Time…time…..time…..time…….

Maybe in time to re-emerge as skeletons?

To reassume a splendour of archaeological delight?

Broken walls stark against a sunset sky

Rich in nostalgia for an age gone by

Made majestic again by time?

1.2.2017

Calling Time on the Past

I wrote this poem while travelling by train across Britain from Hull to Manchester. I was catching a flight to Australia to begin a journey that would take me through Java, Borneo, Indonesia, the Phillipines, Vietnam, India, the Middle East and home.

There was excitement in the air and sadness too. I was looking at the slowly decaying heartland of British manufacturing. I was also looking back through strata of ruins at past eras when the mines and mills ruled but are now completely gone.

I was living in Brexit Britain still clinging to the ideas of the past when Empire ruled and wealth flowed in to fill the coffers of the rich and provide employment for the exploited poor.

Times change.

I had Trump’s words ringing in my ears – how he was going to restore those decaying American industries – the coal, oil and steel – to do away with renewables and deny the future.

Times change.

Was America diving back, like Britain, into the past instead of forging ahead?

I felt it was time to call time on the past and embrace the new before we become left behind.

I had an image of those forlorn factories re-emerging at some later stage to become objects of beauty, in much the same way our broken castles, abbeys and mills have done, their ugliness transformed.

Time is change. There is no going back.

Poetry – What we stood for

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What we stood for

There is resilience.

There is determination.

There is skill.

There’s a sense of justice.

Tolerance

And ‘trouble at mill’.

Industrial revolution,

The enlightenment,

And Trade Unions too;

Scientific discovery,

Evolutionary theory,

And a benevolence or two.

Individuality

With revolutionary style,

Education for the masses

And going the extra mile.

Fighting for a worker’s rights

With intelligence and guile.

Forcing through new laws

To create fairness in the trial.

So much we owe

To so many in the past.

Still more to do

To make their efforts last.

Opher 11.12.2015

What we stand for

The freedoms we have, the standards we enjoy, have been well fought for with blood, thought and bravery. Nothing is given lightly and the freedoms and standard are rapidly eroded.

We are paid with sops while the top table dine on swallows’ eggs.

The inequality that runs the world is creating poverty, war and disease. It is time we stopped electing psychopaths and began to look at a fairer way of running things.

This inequality breeds fundamental madness.

In order to look into the future it is best to have a firm knowledge of the past.

Britain has achieved much but there is still much worth fighting for. The world is in a mess.

The planet is being trashed. Wild-life is being decimated. There is mass migration due to fascism, fundamentalism, climate change, overpopulation and war.

Who’s shouting? I can’t hear you?

Patriotism – Proud to be British???

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Patriotism – Proud to be British???

I am British.

So why do I feel so torn about my heritage, so conflicted?

Am I not proud to be British? To be the descendant of people from a tiny island who went forth to conquer the world and create the greatest Empire the world has ever seen?

At one time the British Empire ruled most of the globe. Our Kings and Queens ruled over the USA, Canada, Indonesia, The Philippines, Australia, New Zealand, Hong Kong, South Africa, India, Pakistan, the Caribbean and the Falklands.

We were the supreme world power.

Yet, was this a good thing?

Was this anything to do with my kin?

I think not.

My people did not rule or create an empire. Neither did we benefit.

The empire was created by the establishment – the aristocracy and wealthy traders. They raised armies and navies and went forth to invade, capture and plunder. They set up companies to use indigenous people as cheap labour in order to harvest, mine and manufacture the goods that made them richer.

The wealth poured back from the empire but it did not find its way to the likes of us. We were every bit as abused as those indigenous people abroad.

My people were the poor working people. We were the ones pressganged into the navy, used as cannon fodder in the conquering armies, exploited at home in mines, factories and shipyards.

We lived in poverty and slums while the establishment built great mansions, with fancy carriages, banquets, balls, fine clothes and servants.

The empire was not of our doing, neither was it of benefit to the likes of us. Its foundation was based on racism, arrogance and superiority. It spawned slavery, greed, exploitation and division. It was based on might, force, violence and cruelty. It subjugated and controlled.

Am I supposed to feel proud about this?

No. I refuse.

I refuse to own this empire or take delight in its accomplishments.

But I am proud to be British.

I am proud of the working people who stood up against this establishment and fought for justice and freedom, for rights and fair conditions.

I am proud of the ones who fought for the right to vote, for fair government, fair pay, fair work conditions.

None of it was easily forthcoming.

It took time for men like me to be given the vote. It took even longer for women to be afforded the same.

It took blood and guts.

We formed unions, struck and starved, marched and were massacred, just so that we could be afforded fair pay and good work conditions. We fought for a better, fairer society and it had to be wrested by struggle and loss of life from the hands of the establishment.

So I am proud of those brave women and men and the sacrifices they made. I’m proud to be descended from them.

I look around at this society we have fought for. It is still not as good as it should be. There is still injustice and gross inequality, exploitation and slavery. I look at the wealthy becoming wealthier while people like me slave on zero-hours contracts for poverty wages.

There is still much that needs addressing.

So when it comes to patriotism I think it’s a con-trick.

I’m not going to wave my flag for the Queen or celebrate battles and empire.

I will stand up for the Diggers, for the Chartists and the victims of Peterloo.

They make me proud to be British.

Rome by day – some photos

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There is so much to see in Rome – starting with the art treasures in the Vatican. While representing some of the poorest people in the world the Catholic Church accumulated a huge wealth of treasures and art. One wonders why?

Apart from the Vatican it seems that every corner has an architectural joy, a historical gem or sculpture.

Rome – By night – photos

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Rome is an incredibly photogenic city. At night the history comes to life. I enjoyed wandering around taking shots.

Jersey – Fortresses, Rocky cliffs, Rocky coves, Stone circles and wildlife – photos

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Jersey has so much beauty and interest packed into a small area. The history is fascinating. You can see neolithic stone circles, fortresses from the Dark Ages and Second World War fortifications – all next to each other. The natural beauty is immense.

Plus you can get good beer and excellent seafood.

Jersey – The German Underground tunnels and hospital

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When the Germans occupied the Channel Islands during the Second World War they constructed large underground tunnels which included an underground hospital.

Rome – Photographs

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A great city to wander around. So much to see and take in. So much history, architecture and art. Hot. Cafes. Beer. food and friendly people. I enjoyed hanging out, talking, soaking it up. Walking around the city, snapping.