The Partitioned Isle and the Potato

A few weeks ago I posted a poem on this blog about a divided island. Here’s another poem about a divided island:


Partitioned Island

There’s a border dividing north from south

Two tribes separated by faith and flag

British troops still haunt these shores

But the guns now silent, bombs drop no more

An uneasy peace of mind, a tired truce?

With a long sigh, Prus-sia lost its empire

All around was ire, land unfree and betrayed

But in the Med it’s raining…

Dark memories of ancient times

Up north the churches are no more

Down the south the mosques lie empty

O Greek and Turk where lies thy fate?

The lira or the euro

The church or the mosque

The crescent or the cross

The Efes or the Keo

The doner or the shish?

Icons of Ataturk and Makarios

Adorn dusty streets high on mountain passes and city centres

To what end?

When Aphrodite emerged from the waves

In the palm of Zeus

Hopes dashed on the rocks

Like a UN peace plan

This United Nations

Haunts a disunited nation

But now lobster red alpha males

Lounge by the pool sipping lukewarm beer

Reading yesterday’s Daily Mail

And digesting last night’s fish and chips

They ignore the pathos in Paphos

But go out on a limb in Limmasol

As the Russians invest in surreal estate

Lands long plundered

Now there’s nothing left to

Nick, oh see a ray on the horizon

Aye a ray it is

A glimmer of hope?

A spark?

An alphabet soup of conflict

The letter “E” – OK, “A” not so good

Spelling Grivas bodily harm (sic)

Long bearded priest with long memories

Wafts incense around gold leaf chandeliers

The olive groves and vineyards wither on the line

A green line on a map

Even the lemons are bitter

Aim a missile at a Greek, at a Turk

And they bleed the same shade of red
A book that’s been read a thousand times…


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