I walked home from the city the saddened world within my mind,
Talking to passing shadows, to slippery shapes in kind,
Longing for refuge somewhere a safer place to be,
Before I die a lonely death in the old house by the sea.
A weary, sad and sadding place a place full of diamond tears,
That touch the petals of long dead flowers killed by our fattened fears,
In a town which should be nowhere beyond the claims of Fate,
Or in a madman’s nightmare or near the devil’s gate.
I saw in thoughts those other times, when all was good for me,
My family at the seaside a girl in Tuscany,
Until I passed the open door and climbed the stair’s first flight,
And heard an Arab play the oud and sing sweetly to the night.
An open door framed a girl and boy a loving, kissing pair,
They lived in tiny, dirty rooms but now they did not care,
And I stood awhile and stroked the cat we all had sometimes fed,
A lonely, stalking, city cat that searched for all the dead.
I stepped into a darkened room through an opened door,
And breathed the air of emptiness that made me yearn for more,
I stopped but why I cannot say no reason not to stay,
And who has more than this I heard my voice to say.
Torn carpets, shattered cups, some ancient golden locks,
Night Thoughts on the table, Dante’s Virgil climbing rocks
In Hell, while I laid down in bed and read those tales the fairies told,
Of magic places that cannot be where youth grows never old.
Such tales of light, to passions dulled is like the dark red wine,
That weaves a new reality from angel hair wove fine.
But soon I lit the blackened waiting screen of the void they call TV
And saw nothing there but emptiness nothing, paid or free.
So on I turned the radio and heard the music call,
Opera, blues and rock and roll, but they pounded on the wall,
Still I listened, and looked straight up and thought I saw a glow,
But no sign of god could I see there nor Michaelangelo.
I looked into a mirror and caught the sudden tears,
That face is mine they say just carved by bitter years,
I began to read the paper to see what news there was,
But I read and read of death and sin and never-ending wars.
As madmen wash their hands in blood and glory in the fear,
Tortured winds scream in pain and storm clouds gather near,
So in sweet silence still I lay wondering of our fall
As a siren like a hot cat howls in answer to us all.
In deep I breathed the dead night air and visioned time to come,
Walking from the city with my ragged coat and rum,
Remembering rhythmic dancing songs sung in sultry bars,
And one Spanish dancing girl once kissed beneath the stars.