one last doom

the wind traps each in their own tiny room

blasts out the silence and makes all take stock

for in the morning we face one last doom

it was but yesterday we saw the bloom

pallid yet vibrant not a thing to mock

the wind traps each in their own tiny room

on this dark day when the only perfume

is bitter scent of ashes our knees lock

for in the morning we face one last doom

with no sun rising to relieve the gloom

nor to bring warmth to the hard barren rock

the wind traps each in their own tiny room

for hearts to harden and for minds to fume

while each lost traveller waits on the knock

for in the morning we face one last doom

the golden cradle will serve for a tomb

to learn that fact will not come as a shock

the wind traps each in their own tiny room

for in the morning we face one last doom

that pedestrian tale

that pedestrian tale  each must relate

contains all our history bitter and sweet

different in mode but yet when we meet

fervour with passion the facts do not grate

no one can keep us from holding our state

at the due moment still glory is fleet

as moment of sunrise and never complete

as we all learn when we find out our fate

truth is the monster that howls in the gale

obscenely yelling the words we deny

yet when we reach the far end of the tale

we still prefer it to the soothing lie

since in the end all the remedies fail

and the last word all must say is goodbye

the source of light and fire

vision persists in memory of the eye

where moving image still seems full and bright

though many hopes have faded into night

and all is strange now under a new sky

and other stars still hearts demand to fly

into the realms of true and honest light

where none will question when we reach the height

nor will each word be stifled by the lie

we ask the dragon for one drop of blood

to change the order of things now well known

into fresh truths and we restring the lyre

to have our songs resound above the mud

into that air where one bird soars alone

reaching towards the source of light and fire

no way forward

we find that choices now have all turned hard

but may not leave this hot and bloody field

there's no way forward and return is barred

all faces that were fresh are old and marred

but minds are focused and all hearts are steeled

we find that choices now have all turned hard

yet cannot give the past our fond regard

for what was warm and free is now congealed

there's no way forward and return is barred

to those who are obliged to stand on guard

awaiting a strong word to be revealed

we find that choices now have all turned hard

our praises won't be sung by any bard

at least our fate will not be long concealed

there's no way forward and return is barred

no option then but play the final card

take up our stand and show we will not yield

we find that choices now have all turned hard

there's no way forward and return is barred

no choice but midnight

no choice but midnight left and this is hard

to take when day was joyous and so kind

that we were filled with blessings of good mind

but now few stars and every way is barred

vision is blurred and all the ground is charred

by wildest fire we have been left behind

by some harsh fate in this land of the blind

where all things good have been cut up and marred

there must be wisdom left for each to trace

the proper path to decent human sight

where everyone is worthy of their face

and every action leads each to the right

this is the hope to which we all must hold

that none can purchase though it lead to gold

an ancient wisdom

no resolution ever fell so flat

as this decree though most sincerely meant

to bring all to their senses and repent

their every crime laid out upon the mat

as subjects proper for our daily chat

those matters upon which no true consent

has been achieved and on which we were lent

not enough time and oh well that’s that

when we have signaled that the end is come

to all deception we receive no prize

but only grievances a mighty store

since at the last we find that no one’s dumb

who comes beneath the censure of our eyes

but each believes they truly know the score

unconsciousness

we sit here caught twixt history and text

interpreters of one more well-told tale

another weight that's added to the scale

of knowledge what wisdom comes unvexed

by normal suffering in the context

of work and study long before we ail

or fade into the dark with one last wail

that's the hard question leaving us perplexed

the act political we cannot doubt

must be for us the central urgent norm

for making easier the chance that curled

within the force that bids each one to shout

the truth and nature of the rising form

is the bright hope of an emergent world

villanelle for an adult birthday

now say good riddance to the year gone by

at one more fading of the foolish light

with full rejoicing that you did not die

tomorrow sun will rise on the same sky

and yours will be the task to get things right

now say good riddance to the year gone by

do not dwell long on how it seemed to fly

right past your thought and your diminished might

with full rejoicing that you did not die

get on your feet and led the hard words lie

just keep in mind that things could be less bright

now say good riddance to the year gone by

and get on with the stuff you can't deny

the tasks the pile up and the work not slight

with full rejoicing that you did not die

in dreamless sleep where all thought had run dry

you live for now don't rush the longest night

now say good riddance to the year gone by

with full rejoicing that you did not die

The doctor bird

On knutsford boulevard the doctor bird
Sips nectar from the blossoms in the noise
Of passing traffic and the tall absurd
Motions of people yet the creature's poise
Is magical unaltered by the place
Or human action honest of its kind
But still as brutal does not steal its grace
Restoring beauty in a time that's blind
To this reality there's one more cast
That memory had woken an older tale
Of pain and loss from a forgotten past
Where all the goods must come at end to fail
Yet truth will flutter on a humming wing
Asking the heart in spite of all to sing

the longest groan

so much to do but go lie in the sun

and watch the clouds observe each changing shape

while looking upward with your mouth agape

allow the world to go by on the run

there are so many tasks that must be done

but not today there's time for one escape

from sordid duty take some rest and drape

your body on the bench just have some fun

soon you'll encounter the familiar task

hear the old words and even older lies

plunge back into the service of the known

to answer all the questions that they ask

hope to awaken light behind fresh eyes

and heal the causes of the longest groan

august morning recalled

this is the day when we may bless the sun

no cloud can daunt us once we're through the night

for on this morning all our good is won

the long dark course of horror has been run

so now we have true clarity of sight

this is the day when we may bless the sun

not as our whip for that time is now done

but as an honest beneficent light

for on this morning all our good is won

we must make real the tales that once we spun

around the fire to keep our spirits bright

this is the day when we may bless the sun

for now there is no fear of lance or gun

since we may dance in our masters' despite

for on this morning all our good is won

service to past and future we won't shun

nor ever drop from memory the long fight

this is the day when we may bless the sun

for on this morning all our good is won

right after rain

the deepest silence comes right after rain

just before nightfall when the milky light

seems full of portents while your straining sight

catches some glimpse of homing bird seen plain

at the right moment when the skies attain

that perfect colour fading fast from bright

just north of where begins the rule of night

to make us sigh now that is what we gain

here in the kingdom where no fools may rule

there is contentment earned at a high cost

by those of us who know not what we pay

nor understand the lessons of this school

until we find the gifts we thought long lost

and on a sudden learn we're on the way

a piece of work

our choices leave us little room to spare

as day and night in sequence go by fast

no decent case of dignity to wear

and vision that suggests more cause to fear

in the cold present than in the dim past

our choices leave us little room to spare

for reprehension at the sullen year

that it has been the truth is all miscast

no decent case of dignity to wear

we're  all frustrated all thrown in despair

all fearful we will hear the final blast

our choices leave us little room to spare

for any of the goods that we should bear

since our great goal will never be surpassed

no decent case of dignity to wear

when we confront the enemy or dare

the final gate that victory's the last

our choices leave us little room to spare

no decent case of dignity to wear

not all is night

there is some magic in the changing sound

of music in the modulated touch

over the distance we have gained so much

crossing great waters at a single bound

while all the pains of the old hurt were drowned

and honour met  just one step past the clutch

of oldest terrors we learn truth is such

a mighty gift yet one we may expound

our hope for progress turns right back to shame

when out of darkness we find naught but force

to hold us back and keep us from our right

when what is needed is but one bright flame

to serve as guide to set us back on course

reminding hearts that not all is in night

the prize we seek

the choices that we make are most constrained

by all the history we do not know

the pain of truth and life that is not slow

but constant motion towards what was gained

by long ancestral struggle we attained

some measure of the fair but the true flow

of justice and of freedom will not grow

just from our acts much else must be ordained

no victory is final that we learn

from childhood on and every hill we reach

turns out to be just one below the peak

so we clomp upwards while the seasons burn

still wondering just what it is we teach

and what exactly is the prize we seek

no echo from the outer range

where there's no echo from the outer range

of what was said before we turned for home

about the meanings both of choice and change

and what it means when we begin to roam

beyond the bounds of our accepted world

to those domains now hidden in the dark

where our free banners may at last unfurled

be flown above our heads as the great mark

of where we stand and what we mean to hold

upon the heights the point of what we do

when we have moved from warmth into the cold

and made our old place into something new

the truth of this is said without alarm

but your reply is what must give it charm

for coming rain

no matter what there's no reason to shout

with joy or anger since the rules are neat

and clear not heavy in this summer heat

we have no reason now for fear or doubt

just worry at the thought of coming drought

and utter silence in the noontime street

while on the air so many voices bleat

but none can tell us what it is about

upon the ground a shadow and a sign

of what the times have shown and what they mean

to those who read the signals straight and plain

yet we are waiting since the shades align

to form a boundary just past the seen

where those inside may sigh for coming rain

nature and nature's laws

there is no magic that can outpace wit

nor any spell to outdo normal pluck

still in the end we all are in the shit

you might expect things would ease up a bit

but what you find is that your feet are stuck

there is no magic that can outpace wit

but not a single line of yours will hit

just where you want so you are out of luck

still in the end we all are in the shit

not one of us is ever quite legit

as all our best hopes end up in the muck

there is no magic that can outpace wit

we get a win our thoughts begin to flit

towards good chance if things don't go amuck

still in the end we all are in the shit

no matter what we do despite our grit

the laws of nature just don't give a fuck

there is no magic that can outpace wit

still in the end we all are in the shit

the correct posture

no echo here just quiet and the bright

lamp of midday that flattens all below

with gentle touch that equals massive blow

and makes us all long for the cool of night

there's not a bird  today seeking the height

the strongest beast is hiding from the glow

this day at least we wish to see the snow

soften the edges of this harshest sight

mind cannot waken to the meanest task

nor is there thought of music for the charge

when distance adds so much to every fear

it magnifies the words that each must ask

making the burdens that were small so large

but yet each basket when we look holds air

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