villanelle for emancipation day

free folk who turn their backs on the sweet cane

for bitter striving on the mountainside

don’t count hard labour now as any pain

since now there is good reason to hold strain

while men on horseback dare not shout nor chide

free folk who turn their backs on the sweet cane

whose feet are moving uphill from the plain

towards the places where they used to hide

don’t count hard labour now as any pain

when it’s all yours when none of it’s in vain

as hopes are reached and none of them denied

free folk who turn their backs on the sweet cane

have seas to cross and great dreams to attain

their inner voices have made them decide

don’t count hard labour now as any pain

they will not fall back to bondage again

but face the world with proper joy and pride

free folk who turn their backs on the sweet cane

don’t count hard labour now as any pain

auld lang syne

this is the place where all shadows begin

beneath the broken house and greenskin tree

i walk just out of tune but hope to win

the colours do not change from out to in

and red leaves on the hedge were meant to be

this is the place where all shadows begin

a moment here when the world does not spin

as all the signs of what we are agree

i walk just out of tune but hope to win

who knows those watching might forbear to grin

as no time passing they must pause to see

this is the place where all shadows begin

that which was lost was made to seem a sin

by falling off and scattering debris

i walk just out of tune but hope to win

those who have heard know what this life has been

in all its echoes and the space left free

this is the place where all shadows begin

i walk just out of tune but hope to win

nothing but shipwreck

nothing but shipwreck is the complete tale
from sunrise to sunset and then again
we rise never to triumph but to fail

all humanity fits here in small scale
from the bahamas right down to cayenne
nothing but shipwreck is the complete tale

our story is the oldest human wail
our fate is limited by a hard pen
we rise never to triumph but to fail

you would not think any of us were frail
and yet we seem the weakest sort of men
nothing but shipwreck is the complete tale

set down in writing in such great detail
the complete record lies within our ken
we rise to never triumph but to fail

the hurricane will tear the largest sail
and end the voyage with a last amen
nothing but shipwreck is the complete tale
we rise never to triumph but to fail

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of the kingdom of darkness

the empire’s ghost sits crowned upon its grave
obedience is a habit and we bow
the mind and not the body is the slave

there was no wise tradition left to save
so it was easy our weak hearts to cow
the empire’s ghost sits crowned upon its grave

its reedy music now the voice of knave
and thieving blackbird its nest will endow
the mind and not the body is the slave

to serve and cringe while holy fools will rave
of sacred duties we can’t disavow
the empire’s ghost sits crowned upon its grave

we bend our heads and study to behave
the proper way since we have learned just how
the mind and not the body is the slave

to pains and pleasures we’ve been made to crave
just so we bend and pull the heavy plough
the empire’s ghost sits crowned upon its grave
the mind and not the body is the slave

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of commonwealth

 

against this massive force no one could dare

raise single hand or malign cause renew

we come together out of more than fear

 

this is a strength that will divide and share

will cut the cord as well as turn the screw

against this massive force no one could dare

 

utter a word we have the might to spare

or to destroy to break up or to glue

we come together out of more than fear

 

the leopard has to lie down with the hare

that sort of thing is proper not undue

against this massive force no one would dare

 

make their small challenge for we can declare

triumph complete with no more ballyhoo

we come together out of more than fear

 

our voices speak command over the air

our craft control wherever we can view

against this massive force no one would dare

we come together out of more than fear

of man

our brothers are the crocodile and fox
who see the world as made up of their prey
hope fled this place and dwells among the rocks

the shepherds fled and left to us their flocks
and they grow scrawnier and waste away
our brothers are the crocodile and fox

not for us here the tyranny of clocks
our kingdom is a place of joy and play
hope fled this place and dwells among the rocks

waiting to see what else is in the box
and what new lies we will think up to say
our brothers are the crocodile and fox

we can’t take more of their assaults and shocks
before we fall into complete decay
hope fled this place and dwells among the rocks

a monster listens and then loudly mocks
since any that would win must first betray
our brothers are the crocodile and fox
hope fled this place and dwells among the rocks

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of a xtian commonwealth

sacred police watch every word we send
to keep us safe they tell us as they strike
so we must pray or at the least pretend

into the background each one has to blend
no hostile sound should ever reach the mike
sacred police watch every word we send

there is no one on whom we can depend
into each back they’ll gladly shove the spike
so we must pray or at the least pretend

to be the ones who their message will vend
as gospel to the rich and poor alike
sacred police watch every word we send

we have to note each new official trend
who is in charge and who will take a hike
so we must pray or at the least pretend

that we are pleased to thank and to commend
the masters of this everlasting reich
sacred police watch every word we send
so we must pray or at the least pretend

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spiritual healing

 

there is no meaning written on the blue

we ask and ask yet there is no reply

we make things up and claim that they are true

 

no certainties are left the world’s askew

all we’ve been told turns out to be a lie

there is no meaning written on the blue

 

there is no need for any ballyhoo

nor reason to praise those who are so sly

we make things up and claim that they are true

 

it does not matter if we change the view

or claim that evil comes to those who pry

there is no meaning written on the blue

 

we kept no secrets from the bird that flew

above our heads it merely passed us by

we make things up and claim that they are true

 

you think that your discoveries are new

yet they are old and rotten and so dry

there is no meaning written on the blue

we make things up and claim that they are true

past time for waiting

here at the edge we find some time for sleep
our thoughts are running fast and reach a place
where creeks and rivers are shallow not deep

your heart must beat a rate we cannot keep
unless the fire of life can set the pace
here at the edge we find some time for sleep

those who deem what is proper simply cheap
refuse to grant our hopes a second’s grace
where creeks and rivers are shallow not deep

the great mistake is counting us as sheep
saying so loudly to our very face
here at the edge we find some time for sleep

since there’s no need to waken those who creep
from tree to tree seeking each tiny trace
where creeks and rivers are shallow not deep

now you will find out just who gets to reap
and what the crop how golden or how base
here at the edge we find some time for sleep
where creeks and rivers are shallow not deep

a pyrrhic tale

 

we reach the boundary and cannot cross
so much of what we need is left behind
we paid for victory with greater loss

those are the symbols which we have to toss
into the bin and cast them from each mind
we reach the boundary and cannot cross

into the pleasant meadows there’s no gloss
to this clear meaning life is never kind
we paid for victory with greater loss

than we expected we received the dross
instead of gold and that is the true bind
we reach the boundary and cannot cross

the one who lost might now become the boss
in the hot quandary through which we find
we paid for victory with greater loss

the dry-stone wall turns green now with the moss
of centuries forgotten by the blind
we reach the boundary and cannot cross
we paid for victory with greater loss