Written in Cuba - Number 3

Help! Help!
There were red flags
By the pool today
My razor sharp mind thinks
Danger

I ask the lady
The lady takes a handful of water
I think she is about to drink
To test its safety
After all I am a tourist
She laughs
She is only smelling it
I go in the pool gingerly
Keeping a watchful eye out for
Tiburon

Magic
Magic
Twiddling the dial of my Spanish speaking radio
I hear Sibelius
So refreshing
After wall to wall salsa
Like jumping into the pool
Tiburon or no Tiburon
I don't listen to much classical music
But now
I want to take the radio with me
Unfortunately
The lead is not long enough

Speaking Spanish
Me guesta l'español
Such a beautiful language
Soft flowing music
Learning to speak Spanish
Is like learning to sing

Missile Crisis
Today we passed a missile
In a field
Menacing
A captive falcon
Straining to break free
To break free
And do what it is best at
Killing
When I ask
I am told
It is a scarecrow
I hope I never meet
One of their crows

 In The Coach
I change seats to avoid
The sun
The sun
Ever watchful moves
To the other side of the bus

Quote
When Greta Garbo said
'I vant to be alone'
She must have been in a
Gruppo
I long to absorb the silent mountains
But they too are probably
Wired for salsa

I walk up the road
Chasing peace
I almost succeed
In leaving the talkers
And diesel engines behind

Master Mountain
Sierra Maestra
The Boss Mountain
No time to sit and stare
We are to be whisked off to
A Secret Place
To eat and swim (and pay)
Not me
I say farewell to the Master
With regret
I too shall eat
Swim
And also write
The Secret Place
To me
Will remain very much a secret

Cocktails For One
Ideas drip from me
With the sweat
I know how Hemmingway must have felt
The urge to write
Fortunately I don't need alcohol
Only pencil, paper
The odd pizza
Batido and helado

However
I too shall invent a cocktail
I call it 'Papa on the Rocks'
(for religious reasons)

Instructions:
1) Blend 1 banana 1 pineapple
1 pear 1 orange 1 apple (Worcester Pearmain)
2) Add four scoops of chocolate ice cream
3) Add half a cup of Captain Morgan
4) Mix with lots of finely crushed ice
And
Serve in a very large glass
[For the benefit of future historians, this cocktail was invented
In the bar of the Santiago Hotel, Santiago de Cuba
7/5/95 at 1-48 pm]
There you go Ernie
One all
I have an advantage over Hemingway
While he had to invent plots
I live mine

Stairway
To get to the clouds
You must climb many steps
Back home there would be a lift
Here you climb
Carrying the sun on your back
Through a garden with dancing trees
Past bushes smelling of gin
We climb a Cuban 'Gran Piedra'
I think of the men who made the steps
I think of 1959
But this is not the place

Back down
Losing count of the steps
I order 'Hugo Naturel'
'Quanto?'
'Two dollar' the man says
And indicates the number
By putting up one finger

Hiding
We haven't really met any workers
In the workplace it seems
They speak a different language

Eyrie
I flew
Fifteen floors up into the Santiago sky
I see everything
Geology and history
Laid out beneath me
From the Sierra Maestra
To the Moncarda Barracks
Toy cars
Ants swimming

One discordant note
On top
When I tried
To walk through the glass to reach the balcony
The glass refused
I had to go through the door
With a brown bump on my head
For reminders

Discovery
Some of the Irish
Heading for the US
Must have
Like CC
Landed in Cuba
They too have a great love of noise

Here it is continual salsa
Every step I take
Is accompanied by a cowbell
(Quite appropriate really
As everyone here is trying to milk me)
My heart can't decide
Whether to beat
In 2/3 or 3/2
Which is confusing

I long for another form of music
Psalms
Heavy metal
Wailing
Liede
Anything
I have decided salsa is better to play
Than to listen to
A bit like chess

The Right Approach
Two German girls
Sit in the bar
One attractive
The other? I don't know
I see only the back of her teutonic head
What would E.H have done?
Probably
Given the friend money to buy a drink
Then screwed the attractive one there on the table
I just watch
She talks non stop
I agree with you E.H
Something should be put in her mouth to stem the flow
German is such a loud language

Coping
I get up at seven
Before salsa is awake
Once salsa is awake
It doesn't sleep again
Till very late
Once salsa is awake
There is no escape
The swimming pool fills with rhythm
Putting your head underwater simply
Muffles the treble
And increases the bass

So I cross the road
Here the sound is
Of running water
Of swimming
Of children playing
Here I can cope

Scam 2
When he said
'Hello friend'
I should have been warned
'Hello friend' in Cuban
Means
'I would like your money'
He was a good actor
He looked like
He'd just come off the catwalk
Unfortunately
The plot of his play was
Total gibberish
'One dollar for disco'
'No money, I live in East Finchley'
'Friend I give you pesos'
'How many'
'One Cuban peso for one dollar'
'No'
'How many you want'
'Treinte cinquo'
'I give 50'
'OK'
'You got dollars on you'
'No, but I can go and get one, you got pesos'
'No, my girlfriend in disco has pesos'
'OK you get them'
'You come downstairs with me'
'No'
At this point
A bit part actor appears
Our hero speaks with him and waves his arms in my direction
I the audience
Watch but am not impressed
He returns
The conversation is repeated word for word
(Which is an essential part of this type of drama)

I still refuse to give him money
He leaves the stage
Saying what happened was
'Of no importance'
I am a great admirer of
Oscar Wilde

Substitute
I erased the original poem because it was
Total rubbish
But then
In my book
I had a space to fill
So;

I've had more alcohol
About six cocktails
And two rum and cokes
In the past two weeks
Than in the past two years
But I'm pleeased to shay
It hahahaha has no ef ect wasoever
OK
Bring if you don' blieve me your wavy line
I'm not wavy
I'm drowny

Apology
Returning from the Miguel scam
I was pretty upset
Obviously a student of
The Lee Strasburg school
He took me in completely
Still that was no excuse

When the night ladies approached
I let my anger out on them
Then a short time later
Realizing how offensive I'd been
I came out of the hotel
Said sorry
And tried to explain

They said
That all Cubans were not like that
That I should relax, calm down

I said Lo siento again
And then
Good night

Loss
I returned from writing
To find my door unlocked
A mistake by the cleaning lady

At first I thought nothing had been taken
Then I discovered what was missing
1 bar of soap
And
1 ear plug

Police are looking for
A very clean person
With only one ear

Agony Aunt
Querida tia Agonia
                    My Spanish neighbour, a señor Velasquez,
is still giving me funny looks and calling me names, as I
mentioned to you recently.  More worrying, he has now put up
a large stake in his garden, and spends much of his time
collecting firewood.  He has been very angry ever since
I complained about prayer meetings he holds in his house
The noise is terrible- especially the bells.
There is probably no cause for alarm, but I should greatly
appreciate your advise.
                      Yours Truly
                      Hatuey (Mr)

Dear Mr Hatuey,
              It so happens that your neighbour is well known
to me.  He is an upright religious man, with it is true, a
slight fanatical tendency.
So as I said to you on the phone, there really is nothing to
concern yourself with.  The words he used such as "Heathen
heretic!" and "Pagan devil worshipper!", were I assure you
just used in fun.
This being the case just relax, forget all about it.
Have a beer.
           Yours Truly
           Tia Agonia(Ms)

Choices
We drive through a monster valley
Dozens of concrete animals
Pterodactyls and various 'auruses
A gigantic caveman

I wanted to stop and look
But no
We had to go and see
A collection of old cars

Curved Vision
If I could see
Over the edge of the world

If I could see
Over the edge of the world
And I knew in which direction to look

If I could see
Over the edge of the world
And I knew in which direction to look
And I wasn't so short sighted

I would see
Jamaica

Away
This beach is made for tourists
Tourist food
Tourist music
Tourist shade

Where I sit
A little apart
On non tourist rocks
Under a something tree
(a bit like an alder gone mad)
I can hear
Only the singing wind
And the ever changing
Music of the sea

The wind
Playfully
Blows white sand in my eyes
The sea
Unhurriedly
Enlarges a small hole in the rock
Rushing in
Sliding out
At the unheard bidding of the moon

One day
The rock will be in the sea
Nothing can prevent it

As they rush in
Each of the waves extends its hands to me
Inviting me
Luring me away
To go back with them
Back into the coolness

Practice
The sea tells stories
Stories of ships
Stories of men

Of men that have lived
Of men that have died

The sea tells stories
Stories of today
Stories of yesterday

Only yesterday
Out of the sun
Came the ships of
The Religious Ones

God guided them here to take this land
Which paradoxically
He had already given to the Indians
Perhaps He thought that the Spaniards
Needed more practice
At murder

Invasion?
The echo of a boat engine
Thunders off the cliffs
Menacing
I start to think
Bay of Pigs
Guantanamo

My heart begins to beat
In time with the engine

After all
Fidel and Che
In such a boat with 80 men
In '56.........

These thoughts motor through my brain
But they leave no wake
For the boat has rounded the headland
And I'm alone
With the noisy silence of the sea

Running
Before I gave it up
Because it was unbelievably boring
Despite trying to think
Despite trying to switch off
Despite trying to listen to Radio 4

I would run regularly
Always
More or less
Taking the same route
Even though a change
Might have made it less
Unbelievably boring

The sun is just the same
Every day it jogs around the sky
Always
More or less
Taking the same route
I just hope
The sun
Doesn't get bored