Mango Walk

were we to choose a simple common way
there'd be a million who would follow hard
although we'd never promise better day
each of them growing eager with each yard
none thinking that the upward road was barred
there's nothing to which they might not aspire
and yet we keep hidden the triumphal card
life has its source in water but its end is fire

here in the mountain we can descry the bay
the shoreline now is desolate and scarred
no choice is here allowed either to go or stay
the onward route is not the one that's starred
the faces on the hillside have been marred
once its begun there's no chance to retire
the winner gets his name sung by the bard
life has its source in water but its end is fire

so we are asked to halt and stage the play
on boards now rotten warped and charred
while wild horses above us stamp and neigh
the champions have just come out and sparred
but for their prowess there's been no regard
the sun sinks westward lighting up the mire
its face seems pierced by a sudden shard
life has its source in water but its end in fire

prince of our hearts you know the avant-garde
are ever first in onset and latest to retire
do not be misled by some sly canard
life has its source in water but its end in fire

if there's an answer we have not yet heard
we peck at thoughts like birds at a crumb
the syndrome's not expressed in a plain word
there's a better way than simple rule of thumb
but we test things here with a smart plumb
this village comes equipped with its own bars
the line we follow will not leave each numb
our minds are freed by pale light of the stars

the vision we're shown is not yet absurd
we listen but we don't hear the straight hum
our time we halve or quarter or even third
the music is not of the sort we'd strum
yet we are caught in a type of verbal scrum
our thoughts are shaken by the constant jars
our heads reecho to their deep inner drum
our minds are freed by pale light of the stars

in each heart there resides a rebel bird
that has the hardest time in keeping mum
we count the times its hatching has occurred
but don't confuse its egg for some rich plum
our bodies trap us in their private slum
we see the rich speed by in their smooth cars
our mouths may open but we remain dumb
our minds are freed by the pale light of stars

prince who has heard the engines beat and thrum
do not be hasty to condemn these wars
your thoughts do not add up to the full sum
our minds are freed by the pale light of stars

where what was said did not matter so much
except to those who sought to meet the case
what happened was not that we could clutch
the flowers that blossomed to each single face
nor that we required others to bow and abase
themselves to us as their new higher power
that would have put them in their proper place
but for gods watching us from their high tower

no matter how the fighting elements don't touch
our hearts no matter that no answer comes apace
truth limps far behind us on its weak crutch
there'll be no failure here and even less disgrace
there's no requirement our old path to retrace
that's left for another and less pleasant hour
we could have bound them all in some small space
but for gods watching us from their high tower

it isn't that we think that in their small hutch
descendants of wild beasts snarl at each face
we don't mind their anger or not so much
as to subject them once again to the old chase
that memory's too new for us yet to erase
we'll let the humbled beasts shiver and cower
they're not too expensive now for us to replace
but for gods watching us from their high tower

prince if you would our noblest cause embrace
take up we beg the sign of our true flower
you'd lend our banners something of your grace
but for gods watching us from their high tower

when you've had time to on these things to reflect
don't rush to judgment others may be weak
but have some power do not your thoughts project
unless you've got a chance to obtain what you seek
without contempt either for soft or meek
you're not the only actor in this long play
nor yet the sole source and creator of critique
your feet may stumble long ere they find the way

you've not been paid nor will you soon collect
what is long due for your service this week
it would not be a good thing right now to interject
your message for you've gone far up the creek
and to speak now would demonstrate great pique
besides which they won't hear a word you say
you think your experience strange or unique
your feet may stumble long ere they find the way

there's no need here to accept or to reject
the thing that comes be it so smooth or sleek
it comes to us in gaudy form attractively bedecked
in robes much folded from which weapons peek
your choice is to be silent or else to shriek
in loudest proclamation of horror and dismay
announcing to the world your yellow streak
your feet may stumble long ere they find the way

prince your commander's received his pratique
they ship's made steam and must its anchor weigh
the course is set towards a port most chic
your feet may stumble long ere they find the way

with time and hope behind us there's a chance
that as the tired red dragon slowly flies
back to his nesting ground from fields of france
there'll be an alert one below who spies
a single weakness and with focused eyes
will fire the bolt to bring the damned beast down
taking sure aim and to the worm's surprise
a single shot will liberate the town

some days we cannot hope soon to advance
against the surging tide of thrills and lies
the whole relation seems a sort of dance
but from deep cover the stolid watcher cries
the beast is coming do not now despise
the arts of camouflage your hopes to crown
bring down the horror that rules from the skies
a single shot will liberate the town

it's easy once the battle's done to prance
and claim the leadership with kinship's ties
but if you haven't taken the proper stance
your chance at kingship withers fast and dies
rather you've got the golden orb to prise
from those who full of anger talk you down
they do not guess they cannot yet surmise
a single shot will liberate the town

prince as you muster your eager allies
reflect your smile may yet turn to a frown
the ship of state may at one stroke capsize
a single shot will liberate the town

straight on the road in july tropic heat
i've got a bag i've got a little cash
i know i'm going to get home very beat
that what i'm doing is a little rash
i haven't enough to make the dash
by bus or train it's rough out on the isles
i've no plans nothing's going to clash
tomorrow i'll have walked fifty hard miles

the idea seemed simple clear and neat
i needed money needed a small stash
to find some work not to admit defeat
i wasn't going to let my hopes go smash
the solution was to go and use my wiles
back home the long hard road to bash
tomorrow i'll have walked fifty hard miles

there's no reason at this hour to repeat
all that i saw there was no sudden flash
i crossed the plains the sun fell to his seat
i had no money had no secret cache
my only currency was nods and smiles
i wished for water could not get a splash
tomorrow i'll have walked fifty hard miles

prince i would warn you not your teeth to gnash
but keep this record safe within the files
i made the journey got my little cash
tomorrow i'll have walked fifty hard miles

villon wrote ballades all those years ago
about his friends the members of the gang
who were we learn not at all slow
to use the knife as a quite literal fang
to set free the trapped blood the sang
of honest bourgeois on the unlit street
then wipe and polish the besmeared tang
the money goes to those who are most fleet

we who've come after cannot really know
what songs the hardworking thieftakers sang
or how and in what words they chose to crow
we know that villon when about to hang
asked pardon for his crimes but after clang
of slammed cell doors he danced on airy feet
his death came with a whimper not a bang
the money goes to those who are most fleet

still we can see that his creations flow
like all the wine of which his ballads sang
and we believe that he made a brave show
when paying for all those whom his blade stang
of terror he would have shown not a pang
but claimed to be prepared the judge to meet
when from beneath his feet the trapdoor sprang
the money goes to those who are most fleet

prince i ask pardon for this long harangue
these are not times to be calm nor discreet
around your neck they yet may place the cangue
the money goes to those who are most fleet

some handy hap will no doubt occur
the next arrival we hope will announce
what does not in its way end but recur
or will out of this room go with a flounce
not now but later measured by the ounce
the answer will not on this day be heard
the prognosticators have yet to pronounce
not given but earned is how we have the word

not from a notional heaven this sharp burr
but from a source that we cannot renounce
the beast within with tooth and claw and fur
upon its target will most lightly pounce
never could we this plain nature denounce
the very thought of doing so's absurd
the syllables of hate we mispronounce
not given but earned is how we have the word

our vision's not one that we can simply blur
the future we can't just now announce
but in its way the sense we have can't err
there's room to move and even more to bounce
the savage beast not only lynx or ounce
our very thoughts and secrets overheard
cannot its own thoughts and mind renounce
not given but earned is how we have the word

prince though your enemies with ease you trounce
you cannot overcome the largest herd
the delators from every side come to denounce
not given but earned is how we have the word

we must have courage in these troubled times
beard our islamist enemy in his noisome den
make him account for all his loathsome crimes
ensure he's got no chance to spread his slimes
threaten to make all of his cities glow
and celebrate his fall with jingling rhymes
i'm all for battle as long as i don't go

i know that victory can be as sour as limes
but that won't mean that we can't win again
just as the pump a little water primes
we have to take the lumps of life sometimes
that's just the nature of the vicious flow
none of our actions will qualify as crimes
i'm all for battle as long as i don't go

we make no errors we'll face no hard times
we'll bear adversity like stubborn men
we soon will hear the victory bell's chimes
as our success higher and higher climbs
and we overcome the evil so-and-so
the cost will be some other fellow's dimes
i'm all for battle as long as i don't go

prince george you may not remember when
you had a change to grapple with the foe
you vanished like a very fearful hen
i'm all for battle as long as i don't go

There's naught so good as having one last drink
before the short march to the nice warm bed,
enough to make you stop a while and think
of how the whole process should make you dread,
as every time on pillow you set your head
you've no idea what will happen when you sleep
Still, your eyes are heavier than rooftop lead
so off to dreamland you go, and fall in deep.

And no sooner than into warm sleep you sink
than into life pop many you've known dead,
their doings seem to have you on the brink
of throwing off the warmth of your bedspread
and freezing as in the dream you've fled
from one evil to another faster than a bleep.
Your body wakes, your eyes are heavy and red,
so off to dreamland you go, and fall in deep.

The dream at once takes you to a pool of ink
from which arises a large disembodied head,
which expands then vanishes in a swift eyeblink.
You're somewhere you know quite well you think,
but there's no originality, everything's a retread,
and as your body turns and tosses upon the bed
you wake and find yourself counting green sheep
as wakefulness once again you seek to shed,
so off to dreamland you go, and fall in deep.

Again you dream, and as you dream you swink
harder than at work that keeps you fed;
the scenery changes in ways that do not link
each with the other so that they stay in sync.
Instead the characters seem somehow to dread
that they'll be laughed at inside your own head,
as they each become like smoke hard to keep
in place, but each carrying a sort of dread,
so off to dreamland you go, and fall in deep.

Prince, as you lie awake in your warm bed,
do not attribute all these thoughts to drink;
we know that waking brings feelings of dread,
so off to dreamland you go, and fall in deep.