Time Walks Towards Me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time walks towards me aglow in shadowed light,

Without remorse or pity, as a creature of the night,

Hunting for the present to turn future into past,

That eternity in the second which may be my very last,

While from the darkly distance voices whisper ghostly in my ears,

For everyone is talking and never saying much,

Wittgenstein was right you know, it’s all just such and such,

Meanings lost, or never known except by fools and saddened clowns,

While modern Cinderellas swear and tear at tattered gowns,

In disbelief the party’s done and now all they have are fears,

For Demeter is back in charge, the corn lays at her feet,

Dying, dead, decaying, wrapped up cold in winter’s sheet,

Awaiting resurrection that for us will never come,

Despite the never ceasing prayers, you’re better off with rum

And wine, and some kisses with your tears,

If love you’ll ever find again in a world awash with hate,

As if ordained, a destined end, a foretold tragic fate,

For where be now our heroes when courage is a crime,

And we live in lonely prisons with walls you cannot climb.

 

 

Have You?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Have you thought of what you’re gonna do

When they’re near to drive you mad,

Will you kiss the air when no one’s there,

Embracing shadows of the past,

Or tango solo to the radio,

Wondering, what the fuck’s it for,

High on fumes of platitudes, of bullshit and the lies,

Awareness setting in too late, you’re too far gone to care,

No reflection in the mirror, only silence when you speak,

But for whisperings of those devils, the ones you thought you beat,

Or will you reminisce of taste and touch, of kisses in the dark,

Her hand guiding yours that night,

As the stars looked down and watched,

And made their bets on who’d come first,

As your hand guided hers.

 

 

 

 

 

So far From Barren Hopes They Lay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So far from barren hopes they lay

They silent spent the break of day,

When from their dreams they started up

And drank their last from one shared cup.

Then, as one, they rose, with hollow eyes,

To don their arms ‘neath scarlet skies,

Red with bloody disillusionment,

The deaths of Reason, Art; Enlightenment.

They gathered round in sad conclave,

In secret grove by secret grave,

Where Justice lay in righteous earth,

Wrapped in memories of her worth.

And swore an oath with up-raised fists,

As vows rang out through gloomy mists,

To search each land and distant sea,

And slay the Hydra, Tyranny.

But doomed they were to search in vain,

With broken heart and endless pain,

For, in them, it was, the monster slept,

And, as they left, the heavens wept.

 

To Live Through Life As Does This Tree

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To live through life as does this tree

Would succour, sooth and comfort me,

To feel the earth as does its roots,

And breathe the sky through greening shoots,

Or feel the rain with upheld leaves,

Trembling, as a night dream weaves

Strange fancies in the birds that sleep,

Or, softly wakened, sadly weep,

Aware, alone, and lost,

Burdened by new solitudes and, expectancy of frost;

But there comes man with axe and fire,

His death machine and funeral pyre,

Mortal foe to all that grows and lives,

Who, exultant, takes, but never gives.

 

 

 

 

The Old Man Raved

 

 

 

 

 

 

The old man raved the more he drank,

And the more he drank he raved,

Of such strange conceived and unheard things,

It made us almost mad,

But we knew that somewhere in his words

There lay the ring of truth,

And so we sat before him,

As he waved his glass around,

And told us of a land he’d found

While seeking shelter from the wars,

That seemed to him enchanted,

Or created in a dream,

Where people spoke with music,

And swords were shameful things,

Where philosophy was honoured,

And common folk were kings,

Where chains were made of flowers,

That bound eternal peace to love,

Where jails had not been thought of,

Nor devils, priests, or gods,

That wove a spell upon us so,

His dream became our own,

But when we asked where was this land,

In which direction did it lay,

He took his glass and drank it deep,

Then, in his raving way,

Declared he had to tell the world,

So left, but leaving, lost his way,

And spite his years of searching,

And growing old in Shangri-La,

He never found that path again,

So the dream began to fade,

But now old age had grabbed him,

Had seized him by the throat,

So remembered what they told him,

Of the universal Truth,

Expressed in Nature’s language,

That speaks within us all,

But few of us can hear it,

As we wander on our way,

At which his raving ended,

And slowly quiet he became,

And as he took another drink,

We wondered at his tale.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cape Cod In ’93

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We walked along the sea swept sands,

And so breathed the air from far-off lands,

We felt the world was in our hands,

For we were young and full of pride.

 

The world was then to us a place

Where shone the eyes of Nature’s face,

Where making love was natural grace,

And no one had yet died.

 

We walked the dunes and watched a whale

That rolled dark back and belly pale,

Then smashed the waves, with fluking tail,

Upon a flowing tide,

 

And watched white sails on waters deep,

That raced on past the lighthouse keep,

Happy in each plunge and leap,

Like dolphins side by side,

 

While scudding clouds past overhead

And pebbles glimmered gold and red,

As if they from the waters bled,

To lay there side by side,

 

Until we reached a beach-rose lane,

And as came down a gentle rain,

Did meet an old man with his cane,

Who stopped to step aside,

 

And next to him a lady stood,

A woman wise, as of the wood,

Who looked upon us as she could,

And for our future cried.