expendable savages

 what need have we for poet and his lyre
the news comes in of humankind's deep pain
of savage drought and of incessant rain
the world is caught up in enormous fire
while foolish voices echo in their choir
that we should never go against the grain
the only measure is of loss and gain
and every hero's just another liar
nothing is left after we see the flash
we're told the only safe course is obey
and while we're at it just ignore the smell
someone will gratefully take all the cash
and tell us that there was no better way
while all the time our earth turns into hell

island of pain

evening light beneath huge old mango tree
butressing roots reach far out on the ground
you want to pause and utter not a sound

my father says it comes from the unfree
that underneath it lies one who was bound
evening light beneath huge old mango tree

far in the distance the eternal sea
its presence is one we feel all around
its waves upon unholy shores still pound
evening light beneath huge old mango tree

 

on the warm hillside

 

lights on the lowland in the velvet night
and further out the deeper darker sea
we find the rules are neither true nor right

there's some small comfort in the normal sight
a time exists that gives us room to be
lights on the lowland in the velvet night

the sense of wonder is not small nor slight
from this calm place each knows he has to flee
we find the rules are neither true nor right

the night's as dark as day is dazzling bright
and ghosts and spirits hang beneath each tree
lights on the lowland in the velvet night

there are no demons though for us to smite
nor beings to whom we have to bend knee
we find the rules are neither true nor right

against nostalgia we still have to fight
memory and truth will not ever agree
lights on the lowland in the velvet night
we find the rules are neither true nor right

renaissance music

 

words sung or spoken need have little sense
all that should matter is the changing tone
each of us listens for the sound alone
the night air is now with rich echoes dense
we need no meaning nor any suspense
all that must signify the wind has blown
warmth leaches down into the very bone
a moment passes of the most intense
flame that erupts in watches of the night
guiding sad traveller to distant shore
where soft and welcome hands and smiles await
we steer towards the red and happy light
not knowing what remains or what else more
will happen when we pass the shining gate

right off the map

 

we sail upon the shallowest of seas
in all directions are sharp reefs and rocks
a voice from shoreline always fleers and mocks

in the far distance islands thick with trees
but howling creatures wait there on the docks
we sail upon the shallowest of seas

there's too much danger from the lightest breeze
we're trapped by nature in some sort of box
and all too eager for the noise and shocks
we sail upon the shallowest of seas