Nice Sky

Its a nice sky
What colour is it?
A kind of pinky orange, like a fish's scales
It hangs there like a tapestry over
the flats of a certain destiny
High rise in intensity
The dreams of Gherkins brought to courgettes
Ghengus Khan's children
Inadvertently under-esteemed
Until the Empire is just
This painted cloud castle
Where he rides his chariot
Drawing the sun, like he
Drew the close of day
On an age of magic

All the Spring Flowers

All of us, all of us everyone
The seeds in the field
Growing in the Sun
All of us reaching to be closer to the one

All the silly sunflowers
Bobbing up their heads
Reminding us it is spring's hours
We need not be dead

Come alive in March
And fall into April
Like a tree with a broken branch
Whose height topples its alma mater - ial

Where can the cuckoo sit, when he comes to call?
The flowers with his cuckoo spit
Are grown against the wall
The shadow of the wall casts long in the afternoon
But I can yet hear his song way into the month of June

I need a lasoo or a whip
To keep the cattle rolling
I need a steamer or a ship
To keep the river strolling

Keep on going down the valley
The cowboys sing their song
Of all the yard girls at aunt Sally's
Yearning the whole day long

Green ice

Green ice, green ice watching you
The Balaton has green ice

Walking along its circumference
Close to the Cathedral of Tihany
It gives its gentle crush to the ice
Green ice watching you

Moving on now like a ferry
We perambulate up and down
The promenade like dancers of the night
It is a nice place for the ducks I think
They toddle like babies but never quite sink

The swans are even pretty in pink
Wise in white, with their legs pulled up
Green ice, green ice watching you

Crows in a pair come down and tap
Poking the green ice with their beaks
Asking it questions, but like a captive agent
The green ice never breaks, never speaks

Its folding up near the pier though
Its edges are beginning to flake
Its made of some stuff very queer
I think it is metal, think it is real then fake

Its holding on to the winter
Like it doesn't want to let it go
Hold on green ice, no just let your ice melt
Because gone is the cold winter snow

Let your green ice flow Mrs Balaton
Let the tears come running down your face
The crows feet are already at your corners
They're dancing the new dance in your place

Green ice, green ice watching you
Fasting the whole day through
How can you live, with a twig, with a fig
With a green leaf covering you

I tried my luck upon your green ice
You held my body in tow
My foot steps left tentative tracks on your ice
But in the end I had to go

I am sure you could have held me
for longer
I'm certain you had the strength
But I was afraid that the new spring curtain
would come down, and I'd
fall right through

Green ice if I could keep you
Green ice if you were true
I would leave the shore side
And walk out into the lake with you

Good Morning Mr Black Bird

Top of the morning to you
The black bird says
What are you doing? I ask
She says listening to the days
Listening to the birdsong
And the days roll past
Today into tomorrow so slow
The earth does not spin fast

Some days you must slow down
Acclimatize yourself with God
Nature or the universe
Whichever you feel gives you life
And keeps you here for a purpose

When I do I stop falling
I stop being blown in the breeze
Like a leaf fallen into the green Balaton
I am silently stuck there
until I unfreeze

The American Corner

 A little piece of heaven

A slice of the American pie

A report of the news at seven

Your own private cloud in the sky

Come here to read, or unwind

Come here to leave behind

Those hours of nine til five

Dolly Parton eat your heart out

Now the American Corner’s come alive

Pieces of the American dream

Gradually fall into place

They fill in the Hungarian scene

Where reality wears a different face

Yet we all wear masks here

We’re all part of the carnival

Some clown sheds a tear

Another actress shines a knowing smile

The American corner revolves around

The spirit we can all better ourselves

And the queen of that dream

Is Bogi who's seen sitting, working hard

At her computer among the full book shelves

It’s a place of Education

A place for rich and the poor

It's egalitarian Librarian

Is partly fraternal, a little maternal, 

Showing us the score

Giving us the US quiz, to improve our knowledge some more

So roll up, roll up come join the parade

We're marching through the town

People of every colour, creed or shade

Everyone is equal and we all have the right

To pursue our own happiness

And to fight the good fight

Disparate parts

All the songs of virtue and
The bees whose invisibility rests
Upon the very backs of business
On the trees of Budapest

They circumnavigate circumference
And infer the situations the best
That care and love are held in reference
To the bodily boldness of rest

They cut the curtains of coincidence
And draw up the dawn light of truth
The toads in the road
Have utterly showed all manner
Of amphibious proof

That a creature who lives underwater
Can likewise breath on dry land
Even if the air is salty and bare
Or in the fog of undeniable hoof

The horse of the city is running wildly
charging outdoors holding counsel
With the wise men who have bolted
The gates to the poor

The rich are in their towers
They are behind their pearly gates
They keep the castle from disenfranchised powers
Yet hope springs though it maybe late

I have shown the circumstances how to sing
And the sirens have followed my voice
Alarm bells down the ages ring
Though nor do they have a choice

A feather in the cap of calypso
Who turns the board to the surf
And paddles out to meet the tornedo
Between Cape Cod and the Caribbean turf

The followers of pensive penitentiaries
Are imprisoned in a pendulum well
Because everybody in the cemeteries
Keep swinging between heaven and hell

I've seen it so it must be true
That jokers cast their shadows blue
Across the poker tables cue
The players to up their ante

A castle in the river fell
In three feet of water but six could tell
A good cousin saved from a living hell
Was one sinner best lost than forgotten

I'm asking you to pray for me
To open up your heaven for me
The only work in the world that's free
Is to do his will in his kingdom

There are no more ghosts to save
Apart from those who have not found the grave
And will search out the bold and brave
Until they've done his bidding

I should like to end this now
But I really don't know how
Perhaps I will just stop right here
And don't cry, don't shed a tear

Hunyadi in Budapest

On the streets of Budapest
Where the old clouds roll
Where the crowds in their dust storm bowl
Like so many refugees

Old street where Hunyadi strolled
With his cargo of cannons
And his wagons which roll

What does he think now
The peace loving town
This proud metropolis
Full of shirtless sacred cows

Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the Danube
What thinks Hunyadi
Of the river banks metro tube

The slow train to Eden
The fast train back home
The mark of cain
On the brain of all men
Left alone

Hunyadi walks in some mythic dream
Where the archetypes come out of doors
They slap him on the back
His philosopher kings
Who bring their naked love lorn wisdom
Like a sack of precious things

They salt his tea with their virtues
In the fresh cafe bars
Which smell of coffee from Turkey
And remind him of Turkish wars

They send him up to the stocks
Tell him this is where the criminals hang
They say newspapers are our flogging grounds
And the government gongs they bang

They sidle up to him like snakes
In the city parks
And offer him apples of hidden knowledge
From the world that goes on after dark

They sit sadly like fishermen
Trying to catch the glimmers of their youth
As the river of time flows on down their banks
And the fish slip through their fingers like truth

They find him nets to catch their lies
Like they were spider webs
And the homeless life of Hunyadi soon dies
Or ebbs
On the grounds of the palace of proof

His clouds are rolling softly like thunder
With the promise of powder kegs
They leave their trail of black granules under
The snow like black spider eggs

They lead the way to parliament
Where the king sits on his throne
And Hunyadi looks then drops his lighted match to the pavement
Then watches as to smithereens its blown