clearer paradigm

no evidence the world is bent in shape

a bluish globe with wooly white of cloud

the mountains form a contrast sharp and proud

against the sea we note the golden cape

while in the sky dark birds seem to escape

the planetary force while winds are loud

above the foam and yet we are uncowed

though eyes are open and all mouths agape

there is a reason we have reached this place

and taken stock at the appropriate time

for our authority to be compelled

into new channels and a different space

with better thought and clearer paradigm

now that the party’s over and trial’s held

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the turning of the wheel

no matter what we say we do not feel

the pain of others right inside each heart

instead we wait the turning of the wheel

 

for one more challenge for the last appeal

which was presaged right at the very start

no matter what we say we do not feel

 

our hopes and urges have been brought to heel

and the last hero laid upon a cart

instead we wait the turning of the wheel

 

to see the message and to take our meal

in comfort all who come here will depart

no matter what we say we do not feel

 

we will start forward and then we will reel

back down in sign that we have lacked the art

instead we wait the turning of the wheel

 

for what is good the last hard spring of steel

yet still the while some fool will strain to fart

no matter what we say we do not feel

instead we wait the turning of the wheel

no astrology

where no man argues and no woman fights

for good or evil we have reached an end

of human battles and the stars portend

no better indications as the nights

close in we note their distant blinking lights

as symbols we might faintly comprehend

when we are whole but what the worlds intend

is not a matter that we have to rights

the argument of workers in the day

or farmers when the wind upsets the trees

is much the same as when we all were young

to bring about the work without delay

ignore the rain and not yield to the breeze

since a strong back outdoes a silver tongue

human wit

where in the sunlight all the dirt’s dispelled

we take our leave then some will go to sleep

their blankets piled upon them in a heap

while in the forest all the spirits gelled

anticipating that when we excelled

at sport and art the answer would be deep

but nothing holds there’s no place here to keep

our kindnesses the earth itself rebelled

none can permit the law to be denied

 by those who are so bound to a far higher

that their hard hands are in the moment lit

by the illuminations of their pride

the incandescence of a greater fire

than can be understood by human wit

the world goes down

we hit the wall and then the world goes down
into the dark and nothing good returns
for all we’ve done what once was gold is brown

as winter comes like satan into town
all minds are numb just as the river churns
we hit the wall and then the world goes down

a sad destruction but no one will frown
believing that we get what the thief earns
for all we’ve done what once was gold is brown

now skies are darker than a priestly gown
for what one makes the other overturns
we hit the wall and then the world goes down

so no one stands for hope or for renown
but gets instead just what the jackass earns
for all we’ve done what once was gold is brown

this is the truth where hero becomes clown
you have to flee before the city burns
we hit the wall and then the world goes down
for all we’ve done what once was gold is brown

the final mark

here on the boundary of truth and lie

where ordinary magics have their rule

underneath heaven permanently cool

no one escapes nor is allowed to cry

against the judgment of the steely sky

since every human is at last a fool

while failure is the final mark at school

the arrow that will find each weeping eye

all that we know amounts to waste of air

on these strange days when we desire to feel

the urgent courage of our better days

but what we get is new return of care

another revolution of the wheel

and nothing better coming through the haze

the last republic

our hearts with humour and with pain are crammed

the world defies our choices and our rage

in the republic of the wholly damned

 

we spoke and then our thoughts were truly slammed

by those who said that with keen words on page

our hearts with humour and with pain are crammed

 

the metre’s right and the line’s not enjambed

yet all we get is a poor poet’s wage

in the republic of the wholly damned

 

since for the moment the signal’s not jammed

so that the the enemy cannot engage

our hearts with humour and with pain are crammed

 

until they burst and our dead corpses rammed

into the the dullest moments of the age

in the republic of the wholly dammed

 

by those who thought that the most decent shammed

their honest words and strutted on a stage

our hearts with humour and with pain are crammed

in the republic of the wholly dammed