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…
The Dreaming Armadillo 