bird in a tree

the woodpecker perched in the pine tree
watches me watching him and does not move
i wonder what it thinks and what the groove
in which its thoughts progress what does it see
when it observes me watching it seems so free
but that may be an illusion what does it prove
when it can no no duty but survival how remove
the doubts i feel when faced with nature's decree
this is the bird that announces time and change
that in its quest for food is strong and loud
and yet it sits and watches me as here i sit
i wonder at its power and at its long range
it seems so powerful so stern and yet so proud
yet it cannot i believe match my hope or wit

parsley

a plant's name a single word not very hard
become a sign of life or death the very mark
here is my home there's the alien balm yard

who would have thought that once the barred
the ones who are not wanted had to hark
a plant's name a single word not very hard

their voices and the colour said to have marred
the backwards island with the signs of dark
here is my home there's the alien balm yard

those who for public safety were on guard
become two-footed brothers of the shark
a plant's name a single word not very hard

what's left of light but a small damaged shard
too weak for us to even think a spark
here is my home there's the alien balm yard

now this we don't mean when we play the card
this reality we come to see is far too stark
a plant's name a single word not very hard
here is my home there's the alien balm yard

looking over the shoulder

who shames the least of the wandering folk
becomes like them the traveller who fails
who knows the insides of prisons and gaols
knows that the policeman never tells a joke
all that you earned has now gone up in smoke
all that's survived are just some tiles and nails
what happened well let's not deal with details
on your pride you now must dine and choke
beyond the bay beyond the last green hill
there's nothing left but city wall and farm
the space of freedom's been reduced to none
each of us was charged the full day's bill
and still we knew that we could come to harm
under the clear sky and the yellow sun

getting things done

the part of the job i like the least is this one
going over the text and refining it just to fit
another's design to replace each little bit
that doesn't match the model while the sun
outside is warm and bright and the day's run
is one that makes me want to go and sit
out in the warming light it's hard to admit
that work comes first and duty must be done
the birds that chirp in the afternoon wood
remind me of the limits of the daily world
but unlike them i've got some work to do
i know i'd rather rest but what if i could
for one moment have the burdens hurled
off my back then still my mind would stew

horses passing in darkness

all through the longest hours of the night guard
the marching madness gripped our souls and feet
ghosts and machines ran all through the backyard
the powers and principalities in their circuits meet
what of the night what of the tongues that treat
each of the watches as a source of death and power
the hours pass by each of them yet more fleet
we look down on the valley from the dark tower

what's not so clear is why they'd call it hard
to say the things that folks say when they greet
the allocation of places on the queen's dance card
is not a matter for discussion in the public street
nor what the monarch does in her darkest retreat
those who ask such questions will have to cower
in fear that they might with screams repeat
we look down on the valley from the dark tower

the night that passes is not smooth but scarred
by what we cannot speak of that's not cheat
but an admission that the doors are barred
with resolution we proclaim the coming heat
will not be killing instead we'll walk the beat
while all around us the noisome weeds do flower
the blight has struck the golden orient wheat
we look down on the valley from the dark tower

prince as you think that life and hope are sweet
recall if you may that you've a noble dower
and others have not the gold left to compete
we look down on the valley from the dark tower

by other means

the matter doesn't require arming helicopters or tanks
no war is to be fought this day in such an awful place
the whole thing means a boring through thick planks

real discontent may not be permitted in the ranks
to its roots any anger the police shall promptly trace
the matter doesn't require arming helicopters or tanks

the horse that's been forced to run has now got sore shanks
still we are not expected to have put gold on the race
the whole thing means a boring through thick planks

there'd be a stronger guard on all sides no bare flanks
to be exposed not even in the night a naked face
the matter doesn't require arming helicopters or tanks

the soldiers on patrol run risks and have no thanks
we expect them to go forward always at marching pace
the whole thing means a boring through thick planks

our debts are owed to those who have not owned the banks
we are not given much but what we've got is grace
the matter doesn't require arming helicopters or tanks
the whole thing means a boring through thick planks

the talking shrub

a fraction of the cost
and how many could be fed
but they are not us

all too dark too poor
better for them to die now
than at our expense

this is not callous
they don't value life like us
not truly human

they have no morals
unlike us for we have truth
and godly whiteness

sacrifice the poor
let them die for our pleasure
god is on our side

victory will come
when there are none of those folk
left to remind us

what we are is good
do not challenge that concept
or you will soon die

at our convenience

for what we know we have no quarrel
with those who want us to be moral
far harder things we'll do or say
with those who've led us on our way
beyond the boundaries of space and time
we wonder what has reached its prime
and shown all on the mountain side
who told the truth and which fool lied

the pardon that we've not been given
was by the power of mercy driven
to do our worst desire what will
would give us each the right to kill
our enemies but if not for them
no leaves or flowers would mark the stem
not by the help of friends and kin
by opposites is the only mode to win

before we put on all the fighting gear
we wondered what we'd have to hear
the story of the suffering child
designed to drive all humans wild
the trick's to find the words that catch
fire in the head like old brown thatch
for when we make the long-term plan
our hope's in the stupidity of girl and man

revised the message won't be sent
that grants us the obligation to present
not what we want but what we have to give
those things will only matter if we life
past this bright hour and if we have the gold
that keeps the dreadful beasts from getting old
that's not what we want for we have no chance
the whole thing's been decided in advance

the play is not the thing

naming the crime is never the last thing
instead we have to justify and to excuse
but even those who are the most obtuse
fear the sound of the penultimate ring
the one that announces the the final wing
has risen from the ground no more abuse
will be permitted there will be no truce
no justification for even one final fling
instead we see the lies told and retold
the false denials and the falser claims
we know every untruth yet still we hear
that what we know's a lie is good as gold
that we have got the true and awful names
back on our side that this will be our year