Crimes Unrepeated
When you look back
at the decisions
that were divisions in your soul
the were
driving you demented
torn and tempted
by possible outcomes.
and looking back at those moments
of endless
deliberation
all of the possible answers
seemed to be the same.
It was impossible to choose
without taking
the blame.
Now looking back. i made the wrong choice.
How can a choice be wrong at all?
And for all of
my pondering
nights spent awake wondering
the answer was there
it laughs as a hyena
and threatens its
glare.
It was a matter: to stay or to go.
I stayed and delayed the inevitable blow.
Till it was too late.
My options depleted.
I fell to my hands and knees
salted tears
for crimes unrepeated.
THANK YOU GOD
Thank
you God for creation
for our self conscious ways
for a life where we can wake up
as someone new each day
for the freedom of mind to fight
for what is good and what is right
and still enjoy the odd night out
and
still have a laugh
being good is in your heart,
not in your mouth, not in your pride
thats the gift you've
given us
we can see where goodness lies
not in self-righteous piety
or in snobby, rigid eyes
but in the
heart that moves us
in the bonds that tie.
Travelling
This is our retirement
we shall not wait 'til sixty three
but live it now in breaks that last
just a
month or three
this is our life in easy units
we divide it year by year
moving on: the world to see
and
what we've got is that we're free!
Early retirement, a little each year,
is finding out that things aren't dear
if you don't invest in assets,
just invest in mind
the world is really yours
you'll find
Just Because
I bought an ice cream cone, because it was summer.
You bought one just because.
I bought
her a gift,
Because she is my mother.
You bought her one just to say hello.
What are these things
that guild you?
These feelings that hold you?
They seem to surface in your brain.
They seem to make it real
and true.
Because they do not fear
The things that taunt and scold you.
In her dreams
In her dreams she wears,
Purple robes and a crown.
In her insane memories,
Twisted in a different way to our,
Twisted memories,
She was a princess,
Before the sea rose to claim her land,
And the gun smoke gray with the smoke from fires.
And in her mind he is coming,
That one piece of raving hits us as hard as a ten ton weight
Waiting is she,
Are we?
She lost her mind when the man hit her head,
Then she found her memories,
Just as real to her as
yours are to you.
And she is waiting for them,
Just to prove them wrong in all their laughter,
Painful laughter,
At least she is a princess in her minds eye,
And least her prince is coming on the horizon,
This is the bit that
makes me envious,
The bit that makes me feel so dead,
What beauty is this hope that can be so sustaining,
While
it is under-fed.
Tapping
on Stone
Tapping on stone,
all of my own.
what am I doing here without
you?
Shadowed in doubt,
times I'm left out,
standing this way when I doubt you.
Did you say it was good?
You were wrong.
Did you say I'm not weak, I'm not strong,
did you kiss all those lips to offend?
Did you wonder
how it was all ,
going to end?
To dragons pit she returns by day,
the darkness minor,
in mornings decay,
the sound of bells ringing far in the east,
the sound of men singing drives her to peace.
The end of a story,
as old she may say,
as time itself,
by its aching display.
The start of something white,
something
bright,
something new.
The mind has lots to see and do.
