snowy summits old in story

slow hum of old machines marking a time
for acting swiftly before day turns loud
some distant echo of the morning crowd
the walls are red under the ancient grime
the moment passes for it is sublime
and then the waiting ones with their heads bowed
step forward only when they've been allowed
a rising sun will not burn off the slime
instead we wait and wonder what we've done
to set the formal boundaries of grace
before we make our way down the last hill
the answer is we've neither lost nor won
still must we make for others their true place
and little shall be subject to our will

atlantis sunrise

let memory speak and we may learn the new
symbols and signs of a far better time
the rising towers always stay in true

we find ourselves still seeking for a clue
or any explanation for the crime
let memory speak and we may learn the new

the answers may come before they are due
and messages will shortly fit the rhyme
the rising towers always stay in true

winners are many losers are but few
from starting shot until the closing chime
let memory speak and we may learn the new

we urge the laggards to join with our crew
before the day has reached its proper prime
the rising towers always stay in true

choices are made and someday we may rue
the effort we have put into this climb
let memory speak and we may learn the new
the rising towers always stay in true

foretelling history

i write my name in symbols that are coarse
composed at once of anger and desire
available at each exchange or bourse
i write my name in symbols that are coarse

we lead to water every willing horse
and hope that one will make it to the wire
i write my name in symbols that are coarse
composed at once of anger and desire

the goals to which each of us may aspire
are covered up by the dull autumn leaves
we seek each day to set up ever higher
the goals to which each of us may aspire

no rules may govern who shall start the fire
nor what is hidden up a jester's sleeves
the goals to which each of us may aspire
are covered up by the dull autumn leaves

ruler alike of merchants and of thieves
the divine being smiling on each street
takes all the credit for the farmers' sheaves
ruler alike of merchants and of thieves

so one may cheer just at the other grieves
while rats uncounted run about our feet
ruler alike of merchants and of thieves
the divine being smiling on each street

i walk about to speak and smile and greet
the ones who enter on the moving stage
each hopes the day will turn out calm and sweet
i walk about to speak and smile and greet

we may advance but we may not retreat
the losing option puts us in a rage
i walk about to speak and smile and greet
the ones who enter on the moving stage

an actor does not choose his proper age
nor where he enters in the play's long course
the playwright has become both fool and mage
an actor does not choose his proper page

instead i find myself obliged to gauge
the distance i must travel on each horse
an actor does not choose his proper age
nor where he enters in the play's long course

The truer, harder battle

War's become metaphor as much as act,
we know the world's in danger from the fire;
the rule requires that we accept each fact
not from requirement but from plain desire.
A time may come when we must choose to walk
away from all the things that keep us sane,
instead we are supposed to calmly talk
while other forces put us under strain.
No law that governs human soul or beast
can keep us from the truths that we all need
but if we wait too long we'll find the least
of our intensities will lack true speed.
All of the past comes out in one huge jest:
believing that the world is just a test.

inanition

 

these angry lions stand up for the king
there is no place where they cannot bear rule
we want the year to be forever spring

the words we speak lack a true honest ring
they move too slowly like a spavined mule
these angry lions stand up for the king

where darkness crowds us like a vibrant thing
we wait for morning and we sip our gruel
we want the year to be forever spring

announcing that the coming dawn will bring
a better day that's not unkind nor cruel
these angry lions stand up for the king

we're caught and raised up by a rapid sling
our task is not to quarrel nor to duel
we want the year to be forever spring

time there is not for a last happy fling
we lack the energy and basic fuel
these angry lions stand up for the king
we want the year to be forever spring