Stanmore Hill

to the last decimal

2012-02-20T10:49:00.002-05:00

so many orders of which none matter

in this harsh place where all words come tofail

in giddy smoke and stinking horses' stale

it seems that all our urges need to shatter

because we have not found the proper scale

so many orders of which none matter

but many fools who do not cease to flatter

yet will not stoop to help us when we ail

nor build a roof to shelter from the hail

so many orders of which none matter

symphony of a thousand

2012-02-19T12:48:00.002-05:00

thunder declaring with a mighty noise

what we once knew but later chose to hide

believing we had so few other ploys

and only a small chance to save our pride

this was the the noble sound we came to hear

sublimest product of the engineer

of music there was the full weight of night

being lifted up around us the height

of passion reached in moments and the pace

of dragons felt as if it were their right

we knew it all and knew it all for grace

the calm the strain the skill that he deploys

marks the director as the truest guide

brimful of zest and yet with equipoise

he knows he's got us all here for the ride

to turn us all at once to wolf and deer

and have a world of magic just appear

before our eyes without the power of sight

by mass effect of sound and not of light

no easy thing our plain lives to displace

a thousand voices is a tool of might

we knew it all and knew it all for grace

my eye is on the many girls and boys

in rank behind as all these worlds collide

what do they know how do they have such poise

in the great task in which they are allied

so much depends on voice bright and austere

all deeply human that is very clear

we have full understanding of the rite

and know the meaning all the words incite

into the sacred silence of this space

hope for escape from the old mortal plight

we knew it all and knew it all for grace

prince you have asked about that magic night

and how the mass of sound was got just right

across the world i tell you to your face

you had to be there darkness vanished quite

we knew it all and knew it all for grace

just beyond the wall

2012-02-18T14:40:00.002-05:00

the normal vision of the human way

is what we bring at first into each mind

in hope that when we are by fate confined

in the beige cubes of ordinary day

no creeping horrors will come out to prey

on thoughts that must to wider worlds be blind

for fear of just exactly what we'd find

if honest brain was let come out to play

but there are dragons just beyond the wall

the child inside will know though adults fail

so often just to open up their eyes

or let their ears adjust to hear the call

of beings greater than the normal scale

moving their wings across the winter skies

in the mist

2012-02-16T08:01:00.002-05:00

already buds are forming on each tree

visible through the february mist

this sign of coming spring won't be dismissed

life makes to us its yearly guarantee

that after darkness comes the jubilee

while all of nature's colours still persist

and will explode the roadsides will be kissed

with light again all life yearns to be free

in each heart hides a promissory note

from past to future valid for all time

worth all the stories that our folk have told

to be redeemed when we are called to vote

weighed in the balance and cleansed of allgrime

for a true substance worth far more than gold

in one embrace

2012-02-14T11:45:00.002-05:00

so much is meant but carried in each head

is other freight the which no one could lift

without some aid to take us cross the rift

that separates our bodies that's the dread

that strikes all of a sudden with a red

intensity that's hot as well as swift

but gives way fortunately to your gift

and the great sweetness of all that you've said

time's not enough for all the forms of play

nor for the music that love can require

of us but life goes by at such a pace

clip that years compress into just one day

while we are still warmed by the same fire

and held together in the same embrace

awakening from fever (for gail)

2012-02-13T07:42:00.002-05:00

what's meant is caring so deep into night

when fever drives me so far round the twist

i cannot be brought back without assist

yet when my mind is clear you are still bright

as summer noonday this is my best sight

of joyous wonder but the entire gist

of what i say is this that you exist

is total magic plus you set things right

this little gift of words is small return

for all those hours of complete devotion

for being there each time push came to shove

but words take time to make and each must learn

to take some time to gentle life's commotion

and know the meaning of what's truly love

kindness remembered (in memoriam, Wilmot Perkins, 1931-2012)

2012-02-12T11:20:00.001-05:00

what matters in the end is you were kind

even to those you thought far in the wrong

which brought its wisdom and it made you strong

when the all the shouters said you undermined

goodness itself while you cursed them for blind

unpatriotic fools chanting their lone song

always so eager to make pain last long

while you desired to open up each mind

now that is in the past and what is left

is wisdom recollect gentle words and soft

suggestions made without pretence or guile

we see so clearly how all ends in theft

of those things we have held highest aloft

but we will all get to there in a while

global warming

2012-02-10T12:08:00.002-05:00

the miracle of winter blossoms bright

against dull ground and weeds so sharply green

this early in the year what can it mean

as we inspect the gutters in clear light

nobody questions the unusual sight

yet each must know exactly what is seen

still fools expect some force to intervene

and set the balance of all things just right

the world's upset and we have lost our way

among the mirrors that we set to trap

unwary minds and those with little sense

too many seem to think the whole thing's play

as we are drowning in our own dumb crap

unable to tell true act from pretense

daffodils in february

2012-02-09T07:31:00.000-05:00

in february when there should be frost

bright daffodils present in yellow bloom

such firm rejection of the winter gloom

it makes me smile not all the past is lost

and there are things that death will notconsume

in february when there should be frost

we look on beauty and don't count the cost

of what it means to have full life resume

but take each step and see beyond the doom

in february when there should be frost

wrung into silence

2012-02-06T11:55:00.002-05:00

if asked what happened and there's no reply

that can be safely given that is true

do not evade the words that stick like glue

on your mouth's roof and just refuse to fly

where you most want them there's a reason why

your tongue's not obedient why you might rue

that former ease of discourse when askew

the complex facts make it so hard to lie

not now nor ever will the monster wait

to let you finish but will swiftly pounce

upon your weakest utterance and yell

that here's false coin pretending noble state

worth less than nothing for each tawdry ounce

you hear this all as clear as the noon bell

echoes of the prosper road

2012-02-05T11:42:00.002-05:00

the nightly croaking from the pond

recalls another time and place

the sounds do not quite correspond

but have an equal sort of grace

what's winter here has turned so mild

that we can see the forceful green

reminder of the nearby wild

just inches past the window screen

those arguments that we have made

regarding mother nature's pain

seem all at once a sad charade

as weeds spring up after the rain

what we have learnt is very clear

about the cycles in their course

of tropic or of temperate year

they have the same gigantic force

the frogs that croak in pond or tree

ignoring us proclaiming life

for their short passage do live free

and teach us something about strife

under the cloud

2012-02-03T16:49:00.002-05:00

those are the places that have lost their names

gaining thereby not even a tin piece

that some bright spark might give out ofcaprice

too keep hope going in the complex games

of pride and anger but there are few shames

that will get those who've been fucked just tocease

once they've been shown up for all time asgeese

since they'd much rather go into the flames

all tortures will destroy those who are brave

no matter what they say but never mind

there are no secrets will be left intact

on this side of the shelter of the grave

hope will remain for those who still are kind

to all who know just how their world is wracked

the pressure of recall

2012-02-02T16:49:00.000-05:00

now there are echoes now hear silence fall

along with sunset all across the hill

for one short moment shadows on the wall

seem like the symbols of gigantic will

writing in darkest inks the coming night

not as despair but as remaking right

there is so much to do so much to say

our choices not so clear at end of day

but this is duty we are bound to cope

with all the tasks and burdens on our way

for we have nothing if we have not hope

we're told the journey's never for the small

and we don't doubt it there's a monstrous bill

that must be paid and horrors will befall

those who can't argue with sufficient skill

against their masters those with honest sight

have some good chance of seeing the new light

while those whose strategy is to delay

may find there are some other costs to pay

and twists and turns on the trip up the slope

but no great monsters that we'll need to slay

for we have nothing if we have not hope

on crest of mountain there's a merry hall

and those who get there do not come to ill

yet there's no triumph that would be so small

a payment for the effort and goodwill

that we put in nor are we folk of might

to carouse and rejoice on the warm height

just actors in one scene of a long play

torn between tragedy and cabaret

happy enough to have some towels and soap

to clean up at the end of a long day

for we have nothing if we have not hope

prince you may think that we have gone astray

stepped out of line and lost all our cachet

but there's a lot of play left to our rope

we will be watching for the sun's first ray

for we have nothing if we have not hope

on unburnt ground

2012-02-01T17:21:00.002-05:00

no echo here but silence tightly wound

upon the spindle of the rising year

has its effect on this our unburnt ground

where moths and spider in their turn appear

in pallid sheen with shadows most austere

our voices falter we do not belong

in place or time when memories are strong

ears are alert for the first human sound

for that one thing that we might hold most dear

explaining why the quiet is so profound

and why each heart must feel the touch of fear

before new day but nothing will come clear

the birds are sleeping this night will lastlong

cold hours must pass before we hear their song

there's no one present to teach or expound

those complex riddles about which we care

such folk of comfort are never around

when there's a nasty chill upon the air

or complications in the great affair

they simply vanish still if we prolong

our patient waiting dawn will strike the gong

some proper answer remains to be found

the process seeming almost cavalier

it being grasped and purposed on rebound

seeming to be the waste of a career

but those who cannot feel have yet to hear

the truth of where they are and we belong

in proper place to right all that went wrong

proper lesson

2012-01-27T17:28:00.002-05:00

thejourney we've begun has no right end

orso we think since all our hopes are wild

forthere are many motives we'll defend

thoughnot all of our charges are defiled

byhatreds of the sort that you reviled

whenspeaking in plain justice of the fact

thatnone of us come through the world intact

eachof the winners learns just how to bend

themoment that she stops being a child

whilehe who's wise knows best just to pretend

atemperament that's always calm and mild

justso the watching eye is safe beguiled

noneof these matters is at all abstract

keepthis in mind and you won't be attacked

notone of us can think now to depend

onthose who might be honourably styled

ourchampions we can't call on one friend

whosename is not in the red record filed

tolive full grown and not die as a child

that'sall the purpose we will not be wracked

butothers must be seen to live and act

the occupation of the hour

2012-01-17T10:57:00.002-05:00

what memory paints is never truly told

yet what we find are more than ghosts of care

since every sunset turned the green trees gold

we do our best to praise and not to scold

to bring about a time that is more fair

what memory paints is never truly told

there was less good in crazy days of old

when crudity and harshness were laid bare

since every sunset turned the green trees gold

we thought less then of hearts cruel and cold

ruling a world in fetters of despair

what memory paints is never truly told

but now the tale is starting to unfold

the outline's wholly visible out there

since every sunset turned the green trees gold

there's no more talk of how much has been sold

nor or the price to put upon the air

what memory paints is never truly told

since every sunset turned the green trees gold

distorting mirror

2012-01-15T13:21:00.002-05:00

when the past does not fade and disappear

we're forced to confront it to face the pain

of solid memory to feel all again

within each mind something in the dull air

weighs down upon us with the weight of care

while every face reflects the groaning strain

and total terror that we can see plain

when nothing's left to mankind but raw fear

the once safe garden now becomes a cage

by our own efforts for we are so dense

we cannot see the function of a wall

is to hold in not just to keep out rage

that justice functions better as defence

and isolation leads to the last fall

those dead yesterdays

2012-01-10T15:42:00.002-05:00

life is best measured by the hopes we burn

through those dead yesterdays none could forget

times when the fattest were the most sharp set

which ended we wished would never return

still this is what each of us pays to learn

from that hard teacher whom we name regret

the many ways that life is overset

and those lost gifts for which we will longyearn

so let the drum beat none of us will leave

without a turn upon the judgment seat

so we gain wisdom from the hard result

although our purpose was not to deceive

we're forced unto it by the long defeat

which strips us of all reasons to exult

answering the tyrant

2012-01-08T16:21:00.002-05:00

the thing's the same once you've told the story

putting the planet into normal mode

you've won power but never truly glory

you know it all is just transitory

each of us goes a short way on the road

the thing's the same once you've told the story

whether the ending's peaceful or gory

each must arrive at the one sole abode

you've won power but never truly glory

of no import whether whig or tory

for you the process is in no way slowed

the thing's the same once you've told the story

only message here's memento mori

the human network down to one last node

you've won power but never truly glory

answer now in words that are not hoary

explaining how you cracked the final code

the things the same once you've told the story

you've won power but never truly glory

colour of morning

2012-01-01T11:16:00.002-05:00

no echo now but in the dull grey light

see passing birds that pause and watch us feed

our satiated faces lacking need

or understanding in their urgent flight

of what exactly is the human plight

or when our hunger turns into stark greed

the passerine just seeks an errant seed

and a safe place where it can spend the night

the human does not show the passing bird

this truth of life that everything's the same

since all of us make up a single cast

we're subject each of us to one hard word

as players in the sole eternal game

each doomed to pass in time into the past

for a long year

2011-12-31T16:01:00.003-05:00

golden andwarm in the december sun

this fadingyear will pass and be no more

we pauseand take account of all that's done

sincenormal duty includes keeping score

what we mustdo is often clear and plain

to berepeated and done once again

our taskunfinished this mild winter day

is not thesimple message we convey

butsomething awesome born of nature's grace

seen not onmountain nor in ocean spray

the trueredemption of the human race

we think wecan escape that we can run

somemassive distance from the starting door

and then befree but there's no means to shun

the thingswe are they're with us to the core

clear inthe light and won't wash off in rain

that is thefact of our eternal stain

nor isthere any word that we might say

to grant usease nor even to delay

the fact ofjudgment the truth we must face

is not onewe avoid in any way

the trueredemption of the human race

the journeystarts with us thinking it fun

but nonebelieve that on the final shore

nor thinkof it in terms of lost and won

of those welove and those we now abhor

we speak ofrivers that have found the main

of means bywhich we might a truth sustain

andunderstandings of the honest way

including momentsthat will never stay

but allthat comes is part of the whole case

and fromthat knowledge no true soul will stray

the trueredemption of the human race

prince nonewill wish our poor hopes to betray

and there'sno unjust word that you could say

we havedirection and we know our place

participantsin nature's grand ballet

the trueredemption of the human race

against fear or doubt

2011-12-24T09:43:00.002-05:00

those who have vanished those gone up the spout

the scarperers last season's best reaping

were our last bulwark against fear or doubt

so total silence follows on the shout

clamping down hard on laughter and weeping

those who have vanished those gone up the spout

in teaching us just what to do without

and what exactly is worth safe-keeping

were our last bulwark against fear or doubt

but since they're gone we lack all redoubt

no place to which we can hurry creeping

those who have vanished those gone up the spout

simply precede us on the journey out

message and method both so sweeping

were our last bulwark against fear or doubt

now in the midst of this inhuman drought

we fade into the darkness while sleeping

those who have vanished those gone up the spout

were our last bulwark against fear or doubt

dark winter rain

2011-12-23T07:14:00.002-05:00

despair embodied in dark winter rain

through fitful sleep in absence of all dream

to wake pursuing the first pallid gleam

within a world marked by the human stain

there's not one thing that's simple clear orplain

nothing that honest living might redeem

from what we suffer at the last extreme

paid for in horror and in stabbing pain

there's no deliverance from what we are

nor is it chosen freely in the sun

in a light-hearted moment with a smile

by each of us no favourable star

can serve to light our steps on homeward run

nor gleam and brighten on the final mile

the music of new light

2011-12-20T10:18:00.002-05:00

we strain to hear the music of new light

within each heart to tell the truth of strain

as we rebuild the castle once again

on land of hope with chances maybe slight

indifferent between horror and delight

in a swift race to beat the winter rain

and certain that the walls won't keep out pain

but may succeed at shelter from the night

our hope is simple out there in the cold

no one survives so if we can defend

against the dark some little may endure

to do all this we must stay sharp and bold

from the harsh start right to the tawdry end

for the one golden gift we can secure

at water's edge

2011-12-05T15:27:00.001-05:00

none leftbehind except the final few

whodragging feet had given in to fear

and feltthe cold now in the still dark air

there wasno doubt but that each of them knew

no helpwould come not even what was due

since outbeyond stood no one who would care

about suchfolk and none with heart to spare

for such asperish in cold morning dew

nowliberation is the glory word

for whenthe yoke is taken off our backs

but that isnot what happened on that night

the actualstory’s complex and absurd

involvingbattles skirmishes and tax

withweeping loss of kindred truth and right

early chill

2011-11-28T18:32:00.001-05:00

outsidethe winter storm is pelting down

withancient power recalling us to true

visionof our places so then we rue

boththe larger anger and the lesser frown

eachgout of pressure under which we drown

unheededhere withheld from public view

stillgrasping for some force that would renew

eachbroken heart and smile at each sad clown

tonightwe’re promised snow that will not stick

to thewarm ground and ice that will not chill

for anylength of time the naked skin

yetwinter ‘s taking only the first lick

at thesesoft hides there’s still much room for ill

sincewe are in a race the clock must win

abandon panic

2011-11-27T19:58:00.001-05:00

sleep hides in dimmest corners of the night

refusingto reach out and hold us dear

for fartoo long our fears and pains seem bright

likescars of whiteness injuring the sight

bringingso many distant horrors near

sleephides in dimmest corners of the night

whileon each eye some terror will alight

sowaking mind can slowly shred and tear

for fartoo long our fears and pains seem bright

thoughtafter thought revolves upon harsh blight

andinner rack we’re thorough-cooked by fear

sleepshides in dimmest corners of the night

optionsseem few and hope reduced to slight

expectingthat the dawn might bring cool air

for fartoo long our fears and pains seem bright

yetthere are answers left to turn times right

repairingrest while giving breath to spare

sleephides in dimmest corners of the night

for fartoo long our fears and pains seem bright

fallen angles

2011-11-26T16:56:00.001-05:00

wherefallen angles now define true space

insteady motion of my dull dead blood

thequantity of which threatens to flood

beyondproper confine without such grace

as isexpected in these times of mud

wherefallen angles now define true space

ouracts come under limits we can trace

out ofthe silence through each heavy thud

ofclosing vision as hope turns to dud

wherefallen angles now define true space

the human occupation

2011-11-21T09:28:00.001-05:00

in places known lacking allrestriction

we lift our heads and armsextend their reach

whilst all the silent learnto practice speech

as sterling critics takehonour from fiction

with truth resulting fromthe hard conviction

that since no one will givewhat we beseech

making reality out of allthey teach

we must become our own truebenediction

this is a world wheresilence means dissent

from standard syllogisms ofbright command

yet we are bound to stay within the mesh

of human intercourse of whatis meant

by these creations of thehead and hand

that come together in themortal flesh

autumnal passage

2011-11-09T20:05:00.002-05:00

in mild november every treeseems red

these maples blazing withunhidden fires

in briefest glory as the dayexpires

while winter is to come withheavy tread

but not just yet and whileclouds overhead

cluster like doom the birdssit on the wires

and do not worry the windsmay be liars

while changing seasons don'toccasion dread

meanwhile we wonder at thechanging scene

at who will be ourneighbours and how plain

the day shall be with noleaves on the lawn

but nothing matters whilethe grass is green

and we have shelter from thechilling rain

with guarantee of sleepuntil the dawn

forward to a different scene

2011-10-30T15:22:00.002-04:00

the world outside will notlet one alone

not for one second tobreathe open air

just heed the rastaman onrastaphone

speaking his truth in simplehonest tone

with words of import durableand fair

the world outside will notlet one alone

but like a dog protectingits last bone

will growl and dart at thosewho only dare

just heed the rastaman onrastaphone

with such a message that wehave to own

ourselves bemused and forcedindeed to care

the world outside will notlet one alone

not even emperor asleep onthrone

who would methought havetime enough to spare

just heed the rastaman onrastaphone

give up the past and headbeyond the known

into the heart of humanseverywhere

the world outside will notlet one alone

just heed the rastaman onrastaphone

duly noted and recalled

2011-10-24T11:24:00.002-04:00

how fresh the world wascomplex and still strange

as we crossed shark-filledseas with little thought

of what bright magics in theclouds were caught

or what the cities past themountain range

would have for us instead wesought the grange

the country quiet whereoldest rules were taught

in plainest movement fromold is to ought

from then to now where allwe did was change

into clear selves who knowthe middle way

by just refinement of thatyouthful choice

made all rejoicing underbluest sky

for we who learn the pathsand tracks of day

know it's no simple thing tohave a voice

and far more difficult tokeep an eye

gaining honest sight

2011-10-15T21:27:00.000-04:00

you learn the shadows do nothide all lies

nor is the truth what'sgleaming in the sun

for far too frequently thetale's not done

when light has faded fromall noonday skies

or wisdom woken in theyoungest eyes

no not at all yet for eachhonour won

by those whose struggle isthe daily run

through the hot lands thereare no final ties

instead we face a constanthorrid stream

of angry platitudesregarding fate

and what it means when wegive up the fight

for who we are and what wedare to dream

in these dread times therecan be no debate

since there's one chance toleap into the light

where all the revolutions must begin

2011-10-14T08:15:00.000-04:00

at night the sounds of aircraft blend with rain
lulling to sleep and then we're in the place
where trips begin moving at steady pace
towards the boarding steps and then again
above the clouds where everything's seen plain
in rapid motion back to present grace
with clarity we know can't be the case
facing a truth that's all shot through with pain
the earth still turns and darkness has to lift
at daily sunreturn we find each choice
to be like putting on a shoe or glove
a simple matter of the human gift
for stating facts in ordinary voice
once it is understood the word is love

feeling the air

2011-10-10T09:02:00.001-04:00

so now we listen for the coming rain
deceived by breezes knowing the moist air
is filled with promise and that it must bear
more than mere fruitfulness that much is plain
as we await the changes and explain
to eager watchers just how much our care
has been to guard lest each of them despair
and hold inside the messages of pain
this is the boundary beyond which none
but foolish folk will venture without charts
yet we have come here eager to press on
being certain now that this game has been won
by each of us through mastery of arts
that gave us certainty and have not gone

the wicket portal

2011-10-02T17:47:00.000-04:00

your choices narrow since the gate's not wide
but yet is ample once you choose your way
all you must do is set apart your pride

not just in honour but in the best allied
arts you have studied since your first calm day
your choices narrow since the gate's not wide

enough for coaches in which large folk ride
but humbler folk might still that path essay
all you must do is set apart your pride

from hope and anguish both yet never hide
your expectation of what we might say
your choices narrow since the gate's not wide

yet little matters since we will not collide
with foolish beings who will not obey
all you must do is set apart your pride

and just be ready to confront the tide
that still treats us as objects of its play
your choices narrow since the gate's not wide
all you must do is set apart your pride

the dragon waiting

2011-10-01T11:31:00.000-04:00

at longest last we reach the furthest edge
where wisdom cannot tell us how to choose
between young follows and a few old clues
close to the end there on the final ledge
above deep seas which no one dares to dredge
is where we learn the game's to win or lose
in one short moment when we clip the fuse
open our eyes and honour our true pledge
worlds shape each heart but hearts must form the world
for each of us in turn as we repair
to our last castles on the final hill
dreaming in hope of sleeping dragons curled
in some deep cavern far from the bright air
awaiting the command of our deep will

gone to the dogs

2011-09-15T17:48:00.001-04:00

we do not reach the edge and simply wait
for others to catch up and find us there
but plough on further deep in the affair
where there's a margin between will and fate
nothing's disclosed nor open to debate
since we are subject to recoil from care
or be abused and chided anywhere
we utter speech all choices have to grate
there is no reason that we must return
like beaten dogs in summer to this place
yet still you find us trying not to run
from any anger facing the harsh burn
of baying voices shouting out disgrace
at all of those who brave the brassy sun

behold the bright gallant

2011-09-08T08:11:00.000-04:00

the moon is dancing in the village square
with happy girls whose eyes reflect the stars
while older folk bite down on their cigars
and watch the smoke rise through the calm night air
this is the time of change the turning year
moving fast downward but no harsh thing mars
the splendid moment and there are no bars
to joy this night the morning's time for fear
we do not know what sorrows still to come
will burn themselves into each youthful heart
no terrors lurk but love's rewards are won
though elder smiles conceal the truths of glum
experience they let the young ones dart
into dark corners soon enough comes sun

mango-red leaves

2011-09-05T13:06:00.001-04:00

leaves start to fall they're mango-red and dry
but seem like scattered tears in the grey dawn
when i have got the paper from the lawn
and sought the new day's fortune in the sky
with hope the auguries will not now lie
while those who sleep behind curtains still drawn
miss happy sight of trotting deer and fawn
for all the world like neighbours passing by
now this is change and magic in its way
which multiplied becomes the world's own form
and contains us such moments we retain
in deepest memory against the day
of dearth and sorrow in the heart of storm
when we are lashed by coldest wind and rain

here right now

2011-08-27T13:30:00.000-04:00

so here right now at anchor on dry land
by no storm tossed with shelter from the gale
is no good time to falter nor turn stale
but find some urgent task for working hand
increase the space of mind at my command
the length of time before my thoughts must fail
have hope of better judgment from the scale
and make a thorough honest humane stand
where bound from here by fate or lowly chance
the end's the same but shares of joy and pain
will not be even between now and night
there's one great task to rejoice in the dance
get out and fully measure sun and rain
keep back the dark and glory in the light

first thing to do

2011-08-23T09:02:00.001-04:00

our duty is to rectify the names
and ranks of those who serve and guide the state
take out the waste and cast in in the flames

the one who praises is the one who blames
so both should suffer an immediate fate
our duty is to rectify the names

remove the wrong assess all proper claims
while honouring those who patiently wait
take out the waste and cast it in the flames

not for us gaudy masks of knights and dames
we learnt our service how to clean each plate
our duty is to rectify the names

to take account of glories and of shames
of who was early and who coming late
take out the waste and cast it in the flames

we have no time for silly childish games
nor patience for discussion and debate
our duty is to rectify the names
take out the waste and cast it in the flames

preparing for night

2011-08-20T17:03:00.000-04:00

a simple honest vision birds in flight
across the narrow valley in dim air
while very slowly we prepare for night

in one swift moment we have to indite
magical incantations of despair
a simple honest vision birds in flight

will come upon us in the final light
to draw from every eye a single tear
while very slowly we prepare for night

in manner of old custom law and rite
withstanding all injustice pain and fear
a simple honest vision birds in flight

will transport each of us to some new height
beyond the weight of suffering or care
while very slowly we prepare for night

with understanding of both truth and right
to match the music that will make all clear
a simple honest vision birds in flight
while very slowly we prepare for night

crossing the lawn

2011-08-20T15:06:00.000-04:00

dry grass thin stubble in late summer's heat
reflaring here and there to darker green
in mottled shade there's no one to be seen
a heavy silence rules upon the street
we crave completion seek the upward beat
of ravens' wings demand the vision keen
of tropic vultures we release our spleen
on hapless ears but then we must retreat
in each cool cave the music cannot fail
to guard against the horror of bright day
while keeping hearts in balance from the strain
of sensing that there's more to the true tale
as yet unheralded in what you say
but for the moment we must count the gain

august morning has come round

2011-07-31T16:59:00.001-04:00

so now all clocks are showing the time's passed
for wearing chains and keeping dark heads bowed
since august morning has come round at last

although the sons of hate may stand aghast
we know our parents wept but were not cowed
so now all clocks are showing the time's passed

and we will leave till now we had held fast
but we can show the world that we are proud
since august morning has come round at last

so long a silence then the thunderblast
of our rejoicing we were good and loud
so now the clocks are showing the time's passed

for humble patient service we will cast
away all bondage tear apart the shroud
since august morning has come round at last

with our free hands we sanctify the past
as for the future we face it unbowed
so now all clocks are showing the time's passed
since august morning has come round at last

ordinary hearts

2011-07-21T09:15:00.002-04:00

truth comes in the gaze of eye and ear

and is released in ways that we find best

in simple language nothing can be expressed

but in a form and fashion that is dear

to ordinary hearts now we adhere

in principle and practice to the test

of frailty in all that is confessed

by guardians who will not succumb to fear

duty requires action as well as speech

from those told off to watch the border wall

for signs of trouble coming with the spring

but courage makes us all extend our reach

makes us imagine ourselves ten feet tall

and gives our hearts and voices cause to sing

iuvenes dum sumus

2011-07-16T11:05:00.001-04:00

the music moves across the cold grey sea
through empty space and then the warm applause
erupts into my heart the proper cause
is truth and order in all that we see
set out before us the true honest plea
of decent life that grows without a pause
through urgent summer with its verdant laws
written in thunder music sets us free
now let our eyes not focus on the cloud
but seek the sunlight and the surging tide
never complain that enemies are proud
nor that there are key matters to decide
for now's the moment to use your own voice
unleash your proper laughter and rejoice

summery torment

2011-07-15T10:08:00.001-04:00

the outlines of this message are so clear
to those who wait to hear it at the door
of heavy summer there is so much more
that we will need coming across the air
the loudest want us all to be aware
of sacrifice and that since they abhor
all urgent pain they will remove the sore
by drastic means while stating they are fair
what was unknown turns out to be just brief
exploding anguish on the tainted scene
a sign perhaps of animating spark
or else the voice of one more human's grief
at what has turned into a might-have-been
and gone away like all else into dark

a storm approaches

2011-07-09T12:00:00.001-04:00

we watch the summer swallows swoop and soar
beneath the heavy clouds while children sleep
oblivious to the way the long hours creep

like mice through the long grass so we abhor
the many pressures that have made us weep
we watch the summer swallows swoop and soar

so near our heads it must affect the score
and strike our hearts the fountain's source is deep
in native rock meanwhile like passive sheep
we watch the summer swallows swoop and soar

getting it right

2011-07-06T16:52:00.001-04:00

the key is getting human feeling right

not only understanding of the fact

and answer blending suavity and tact

but proper sensing of the victim's plight

with sentiments concrete and not abstract

the key is getting human feeling right

then sitting with the injured through the night

binding their wounds when they had been attacked

ensuring they had the one thing they lacked

the key is getting human feeling right

the root of glamour

2011-07-04T12:09:00.000-04:00

there is no wonder where there is no hope
we learn this truth before we learn to speak
defining magic as just one more trope

among the ones with which we have to cope
tools of the just and weapons of the meek
there is no wonder where there is no hope

so we declare but yet the merest dope
believes his circumstances are unique
defining magic as just one more trope

that must be learnt before he climbs the slope
towards the greatest highest noble peak
there is no wonder where there is no hope

those are the words and they are no soft soap
serving to guide us unto what we seek
defining magic as just one more trope

of our old language so that gives us scope
for honest understanding and critique
there is no wonder where there is no hope
defining magic as just one more trope

gradus ad parnassum

2011-07-01T14:22:00.000-04:00

each journey's not a problem for the road
but recollection tricks us into tears
each sudden image coming unawares
and then revealing there's a complex code
that we'd forgotten then time overflowed
into each heart and took away our fears
washed out the sad crustation of the years
displaying all the good that was bestowed
in this refraction what we see is clear
to older heads unbowed by weight of age
whose eyes preserve a proper youthful sight
with memory of that softer mountain air
of solemn words declared on rustic stage
before a passage into tropic light

on open water

2011-06-27T12:15:00.001-04:00

we looked on open water for a week
a warm green sea true eater of the sun
great arm of ocean not river or creek

this was our respite from a world made bleak
by constant duty service on the run
we looked on open water for a week

in hope of healing certain the unique
sense of the name would give us what we'd won
great arm of ocean not river or creek

immensity of peace that we could seek
as fullest respite when each day was done
we looked on open water for a week

with smiling faces that forbade critique
of any statement that would overrun
great arm of ocean not river or creek

where we end moving easily and sleek
towards the sunset knowing it was fun
we looked on open water for a week
great arm of ocean not river or creek

Chant royal of the scholar and his cat

2011-06-26T13:54:00.001-04:00

in hidden corner there's a place for sleep
you know it well and will come out to play
in your good time meanwhile you'll let me keep
my larger vigils on this cloudy day
seeking the wisdoms of a time of pain
with half an eye cocked for the coming rain
and senses focused on approaching night
(we know it's coming though the day is bright)
hands put together purpose that is kind
while every heart is poised for instant flight
into the bright dominion of the mind

the lives of people never seem so deep
as feline hungers in their simple way
you are the wanderers and we the sheep
our normal tasks will seem to your delay
from urgent hunger and there is no gain
from what we're doing that seems to you plain
it does not come within your line of sight
provides you nothing of your household right
the sort of thing that is best left behind
lest it should bring a darkness or a blight
into the bright dominion of the mind

your eye is focused on the things that creep
across the yard that you would wish to slay
we know this and for fortune will not weep
but wonder at the words you'd like to say
if speech were given and you could complain
at being bound in by such a golden chain
as if we punished your for our delight
and thought your chiding visions could indict
our cruelty in keeping you confined
but see you move with happy summer light
into the bright dominion of the mind

prince you might think this subject impolite
and such debate is not the best to cite
yet we must take the pathways that we find
from your dark rule of chaos and old night
into the bright dominion of the mind

in sudden summer

2011-06-25T10:20:00.000-04:00

these storms have turned the world all green
and sunlight limns the leaves in gold
no time today to chide or scold

we look and smile the birds all preen
while eager hunters become bold
these storms have turned the world all green

for beauty we have set the scene
a story known and often told
that hearts are broken and consoled
these storms have turned the world all green

empirical wisdom

2011-06-23T14:16:00.002-04:00

no matter what the words remain the same

echoing blandly down the aching years

our beast once wild has now turned safely tame

your voice is one that could with depth proclaim

ending to hurt and to the weight of fears

no matter what the words remain the same

as when we started infants in the game

certain that we'd be the new cavaliers

our beast once wild has now turned safely tame

and we have come despite the threat of shame

to know the meaning of so many tears

no matter what the words remain the same

still they are uttered out of need for blame

while horror is doled out in lavish shares

our beast once wild has not turned safely tame

and cowers uncertain of the fading flame

as each who waits at last wails and despairs

no matter what the words remain the same

our beast once wild has now turned safely tame

to the point

2011-06-14T10:23:00.001-04:00

they fill in visions and repeat in sound

the touch of light on rock the moving shade

marking a changing time then the parade

of trucks and buses moving folk around

since we must hurry to get off this ground

back to our homes back to the normal trade

of simple speaking in words that are flayed

out of all meaning then twisted and bound

a short escape leads to another place

with older energies but the same tide

washed on that shore beneath a certain light

allowing these historians to trace

the roots of anger and the base of pride

straight to their homes in certainty and right

westward gaze

2011-06-11T10:11:00.001-04:00

for a short while we sit and watch the sea
the ships that pass the people on the shore
and then turn back to what we were before

there's understanding here of what must be
a straightforward accounting of the score
for a short while we sit and watch the sea

smile at the world knowing that we agree
on the good things that no one could want more
than such warm moments till the final door
for a short while we sit and watch the sea

shapeshifter

2011-06-03T20:02:00.000-04:00

this empty form with simple sound

is filled echoes amplify the space

they occupy but lack the grace

to be both honest and profound

as keepers of spirit and pace

this empty form with simple sound

becomes the whole complete and round

that we desire more than the chase

of life itself marked on each face

this empty form with simple sound