so what

release the word and no one will attend
out on the seas none counts a single swell
few hear one stroke of just a little bell
and very few on just one word depend
those few who one day will praise and commend
at other times have but few things to tell
nothing to say and not one thing to sell
you call and they don't seem to comprehend
what's in the fog we do not have to seek
it comes to us and grabs us by the throat
that is the rule by which the monster lives
avoid the strong and prey upon the weak
eat all the sheep and leave aside the goat
know just who takes and ignore he who gives
 

island story

all that continues does not fill the tale
your understanding is not quite complete
strain at a herring yet swallow the whale

the oldest sailor knows the sea is pale
right where once vanished the most famous fleet
all that continues does not fill the tale

just as the wind arrives to fill the sail
so does the one you most don't want to meet
strain at a herring yet swallow a whale

you cross the ocean just to bring the mail
but cannot pause your oldest friend to greet
all that continues does not fill the tale

those who are brave still might have cause to quai
lon hearing sound of those large angry feet
strain at a herring yet swallow a whale

the time will come when others will assail
the fortress and will break the royal seat
all that continues does not fill the tale
strain at a herring yet swallow the whale
 

victimology

 

those who believe us caught within a trap
are not the only ones who laugh and cry
then tell us to be true to the last lie
while giving us neither a staff or map
your choice is just to avoid the last gap
pick up your feet and roll the final die
let other things delight your waking eye
and other folk can clean up this old crap
this is the fault of those who have not heard
the gospel of the ones who preach out loud
that we are better off upon our knees
just keep our heads down ignore the absurd
and follow the impulses of the crowd
better to do those things that just appease

another cycle

each generation seeks to make its mark
upon the turning earth and is so blind
for none can foresee what comes in the dark

the dog is punished when it does not bark
because it takes the scent of its own kind
each generation seeks to make its mark

so many tasks begun just as a lark
and then continued in the normal grind
for none can foresee what comes in the dark

no one it seems has ever dared remark
the kind of things that have to loose and bind
each generation seeks to make its mark

year after year we think about the shark
and yet it does not know itself maligned
for none can foresee what comes in the dark

the job we do is no walk in the park
we know how thought tears at the waking mind
each generation seeks to make its mark
for none can foresee what comes in the dark

sine nomine

 

your's is the voice that speaks within my mind
in the silences i need to shatter
when other voices have long ceased to matter
and all the normal senses have gone blind
leaving behind the creatures of our kind
we pass those guardians whose wholesome chatter
fades into the surrounding clatter
and teaches us just how we were designed
all this is just to measure the one line
that each of us must in turn simply take
to find the one thing on which all depend
not that decision which you can't divine
which leads you always to plump for the fake
and pick the option which you can't amend

profit and loss

there is no profit in the human heart
nor in those things that most each of us love
the working machine never gives a fart

dead bodies are piled up on the last cart
we give each tumbril a despairing shove
there is no profit in the human heart

such facts were made clear at the very start
but no new signal came done from above
the working machine never gives a fart

these are the meanings that are set apart
those matters that we knew something of
there is no profit in the human heart

the winner and the loser each are smart
enough to know the total price thereof
the working machine never gives a fart

just so we find the wisdom of the dart
and choose the raven over the pale dove
there is no profit in the human heart
the working machine never gives a fart