this is a short poem describing my arrival at a series of conclusions about life’s real nature.
i’m going to dublin ireland, month-end: it was always where i said it was the place i wanted to die — but therefore, naturally, live first too.
things have changed since those affirmations: i visited sweden and saw a much better way than anywhere i’ve ever been to of organising society: for the first time in my life, for example, i felt it cool to be old. i felt able to enjoy being old, i mean.

i don’t now know what my life holds for me. tbh, this is the truth. i have seen reasons for what has happened to me and others in the world since i was born, and i have been ignored consistently at best and prevented brutally from acting at worst.
i sense there’s nothing more i can do to share better and more productively my perceptions of what we are all collectively doing wrong these decades; and so i ultimately find it impossible to comprehend any chance of my utility arising before i die.
i therefore sense also it’s better i die sooner than later.

the pain is become too much: to know why and be both aggressed for it and, minimum, ignored for it and simply passed over always … well … it has become just too much.
i hope you appreciate, at least, right now, for the minute, the technical skill of the poem that follows. but for me, right now, at 61 it’s not a technical act of putting digital pen to paper, at all. (nor, frankly, has it ever been.)
i hope this you also may find it in yourselves to understand.
see you all in dublin … yeah?

“when it’s time to give up on placating loss”
no longer a love poem by mil williams
you loved him because of his words
and the words were finer than you ever could
but it wasn't just the surfaces
it was the undercurrents too
and the grace under pressure
and the pressure under the mace
that life is becoming
now
and even then was already
and he did the right thing that day he did
at that wondrous age of 61
and so it's when you knew you should too
it was just finding the way
the right way to do the thing you'd wanted to do
for so long and long ago
because whilst the violent ones hurt your so
and continue to violate your intimacy to this day
all you can see now for sure is no one else cares
and as he at his 61
realises the world doesn't care for him
enough to see why he's right
and they're quite wrong in all their cruel uncertainties
he sees it's time to leave the world to suffer alone
because there's nothing to be done any more
because the people in charge are whores
to the totem that is the pursuit of money
at the expense of humanity
he curls his digit around the figure
that is the trigger
and fingers it
like no woman ever cared to embrace him
because grace under pressure
is what that's all about:
doing what's right not doing what's pleasant
never hesitating as the pain beckons
and the abuse reminds him
that justice is criminal
never natural
and so that's been his life
and behind him beautiful books and words
and things heard that were untrue
and others that really weren't
and so that's the nature of the east
as it grinds democracy to pieces
which i no longer want to put together
so i admire and feel inspired
by my man of 61 all those years ago
and by the things he found it in him
that he was able to get out
to better a world he knew
was awful enough
to have to escape one day
in mode of personal obliteration
because in my case i don't know if in his
only five people of my closest family
save themselves in my memory
as it stands before i act
and no friends at all
have ever been more than hidden fiends in ruth:
enemies as the swedish say in their tongue
of the truths i have possessed
but will never be able to hand on now
because now is much too late to placate the loss
which i feel deep inside the soul
that lays beneath my every step
as they have made of ALL my life
something i have wept so fully
as dully i come to the final conclusion
that nothing out there
has ever understood
a single thought
i ever had
just remaining that act i too must pursue
at the age of 61 that currently possesses me
at month-end when in the country
i knew i would cease ultimately to be:
when my life WILL wend its way
to exposure of necessary closure
and where with one last text and webspace
i will try and communicate
all the things you all should have done
which really you didn't
and possibly deliberately didn't
and which have led directly
to the funding streams
and mafia-like revenue pots
that enabled 9/11
and putin's russia
and hamas's terrifying abuse
of both israeli people and its own so-called "own":
because i ask you i really do
why no one dares today to describe hamas
as availing itself these horrifying weeks
of a million or more human shields
caring little
for their integrity
and zero appreciation
for their sovereignty
as blood and flesh in fragility ...
and so yes ... it's true too
that these are the things
i have seen every day from birth
and all i have ever received in exchange
is to be treated by an extended family
and their friends and work partners
as a piece of facile inconvenience
to be disposed of like human kleenex
regularly
wherever i attempt to go that is
and be the human i needed to be that is
and so that's why now
i conclude he was right my man of 61
when he determined there was one place he could go
where none of them could follow him ever
and just one place to be safe
and one place to find peace
and one place where the good people
no longer had to pretend
they couldn't see what the violent ones did to me ...
this i why i consider therefore
the number 61 to be so beautiful:
clearly NOT because of karen williams's birth
nor for the horrors she has visited
on so many men over the years
just as my own pain
was never allowed to subside
by her buddies
and confidantes
(people exactly like
my brother tugomir too
having been her lover
before and after my own idiocies)
nor die down humanly
and reach some degree
of resolution and proper forgetting ...
so NOT because the day she arrived
the world would become a better place
because it clearly didn't
no it didn't
and then again
neither because
where turned upside down
it's the year 91 of her daughter's birth too
being that claire brett
of such violent cruelties and instincts
and so obsessively ridden
(via her techie mates
mark kelly & co) ...
so neither for mother and daughter
nor for daughter and mother
but simply because
i'm also 61 too this year do you hear
and this time of life confers many truths it does
and it's time to do and NOT write any more
as i realise the wisdoms of the ages
cannot be denied:
for the world is a wonderful place
despite what it is
and not because ...









































































































































































