23 June 2012

no thought or regret


brash thunder in the dark is low and deep
it bids us rest and dream of milky light
of other places where with fresher sight
the follies of the seasons slower creep
may well be judged by those who always keep
a weather eye for things to come out right
as safe from mortal horror that's the plight
of one who knows just what hides down in sleep
there's better clarity in the grey dawn
a different heat another sort of life
to be confronted choices to be met
one fearful terrapin seen on the lawn
draws in its head for fear of hurt or strife
but then goes on with no thought or regret

17 June 2012

the human touch


we know each mountain has to have a name
to fix in place what's true to foot and eye
allow for thought lest history go by
announcing that our hearts and tongues were lame
and silent that's the nature of this game
we label both the rock and butterfly
put signs in mobile water and still sky
so that the world entire is ours to frame
some other choice we might have to behold
a universe and let it go its way
without harsh imprint of the human touch
still we think ourselves noble brave and bold
eager to go forth and extend our sway
not caring in the  end we do too much

10 June 2012

what's most desired


your choices are not made out of true hope
that honour will be gained beyond despair
in this long war you're not that kind of dope
to think that outcomes must turn out quite fair
the action that you take is most precise
and never needs return for second slice
besides you know to go against the grain
would give us all some reason to complain
instead you give us all an even hand
you make things honest open just and plain
our wishes start and finish with our land

your kindness teaches us that we must cope
when we had thought the case was past repair
taking our feet up the long dismal slope
unto the place where the long view is clear
where vision serves in place of good advice
and we may learn just what is the true price
that we have paid for knowledge not arcane
given the sorrows of a long campaign
while you provide us with words soft and bland
and music of a gentle plaintive strain
our wishes start and finish with our land

your words inform that we are out of rope
and at cliff's edge looking out on the air
but you're not giving us lies or soft-soap
and we have had the full time to prepare
the options are no tossing of the dice
and all our preparations will suffice
you have not sent us out into the rain
uncovered nor need we ever explain
just why we have to make our final stand
for simple good that's not measured in gain
our wishes start and finish with our land

prince you announce our good you will attain
and all our enemies you shall constrain
such words are wondrous and such hopes are grand
but princes always were the people's bane
our wishes start and finish with our land

09 June 2012

the scent of paradise


so much is said by those who have to speak
in doubled phrases and in words which bite
so deeply that our hearts lose their delight
and all is darkness life becomes so bleak
all hope is lost in getting what we seek
and every choice leads only into blight
this sort of magic turns high noon to night
leaving us all dispirited and weak
what's absent here is just the honest word
uttered by decent souls who know that kind
regard goes further than law's formal writ
but what we have is odourific turd
showing its presence even to the blind
making it clear that all are in the shit

08 June 2012

silence into laughter


there's reason for our silence at your boast
of honours gained but we would never mock
the complex manner in which you take stock
of those who might give unto you the most
value for effort there's certainly no ghost
of a chance that our sharpest words would  rock
your placid mind nor ever serve to shock
your foolish heart that is why you are toast
our hopes are otherwise for you to learn
new meanings in the light and make it plain
that you have understood the open word
of those who do far more than simply yearn
for what has been who go far past their pain
into the laughing world of the absurd

05 June 2012

the warm assurance of sweet sound


our voices echo silence is the crime
we need the warm assurance of sweet sound
for all our urgency fears empty time

so much is caught between the fall and climb
but haste is needed to bring things around
our voices echo silence is the crime

for which we will be punished now the chime
of teachers' bell is something most profound
for all our urgency fears empty time

which must be filled with order the sublime
decree of trust in which we seek for ground
our voices echo silence is the crime

and we're so guilty yet we have to prime
the rule of virtues so they might abound
for all our urgency fears empty time

while hope for magic is expressed in rhyme
which we desire to ring and to resound
our voices echo silence is the crime
for all our urgency fears empty time