a "yes", a "no", a "maybe so"
a "can't decide", an "I don't know"
decisions everywhere I go
a "yes", a "no", a "maybe so"

a "what", a "why", a "let me be"
please oh please just don't ask me
problems and worries are all I see
a "what", a "why", a "let me be"

a "yes", a "no", a "maybe so"
a "can't decide", an "I don't know"
decisions everywhere I go
one more and I think I'll blow

Scatter your ashes my dear,
Let the wind blow them away,
Let the ocean take your body,
And sail to another day.
Hope is on the horizon,
A heart as strong as a lion,
Burn all the photo's you took,
Start a new page of an open book.

Clear away all of the cobwebs,
And let the sun shine on through,
Blue skies are coming to meet you,
It's the promise I made, it's true.
Raise your flag like a soldier,
Let your past grow weaker and older,
Let the tears you've cried like a waterfall,
Evaporate into air, into molecules.

Just start you life over again.

So intriguing a woman behind a glass pane
My friends are falling one-by-one - gun fires twice -
My hopes are high, but I'm scared of the truth

My personality is much like the a-sea
Wake up to the sound of insecurity staring straight back at me
There's so much underneath, but people don't spend much time getting used to me

Oh Mr. Salty won't you lighten up, you're a bit under the weather, can't you see that? Right.
Well it's hard to find motivation, when the motives working forces against you

In a world full of angst and confusion working in circles to exclude you
Your high is mind, and everybody's a liar behind those glass panes
Your fist is punch, and everybody's got a hunch behind those glass panes, ha ha ha ha

Oh Mr. Salty won't you lighten up, you're a bit under the weather, can't you see that? Right.
Well it's hard to find motivation, when the motives working forces against you

We grow impatient waiting for others to make a move,
But.
Intoxication eliminates our impatience, when goddesses start to groove
Techno-saints dressed in neon paints, won't you groove with me now
Your glass panes, much like the Berlin wall, inebriate our minds, and separate our lives, oh no no no no

Sub-conscience deterioration, too self-aware, I'm blowing up
Arrogance, a cultural virtue now, let's breathe it in, and inject into our veins.
Take your substances - a liquid, or a crumb if that's the only way you know out.
Breath it in, and blow your vapors out, cocoon until you bleed out.

Towering hemlocks shade
dense trails of cinnamon fern
as native bluestars rise
in natures wake.
Morning cries joyful teardrops of vapored dew.

Ridgetop mountains fall
to steep mountainsides
and remain faithful to hide
my secrets and fears.
Afternoon sun shines serenity on the hills.

Mountain winds blow sweetly
and howl through the coves
while nature's musical connection
joins with generations of sound.
Evening serenades me with relaxation.

If memory serves this was a special branch of the
Militaty U.K.
Those boys came to town to play.

Weekend rabble loose on leave.
Ready set by the truckloads.
Bully mother fuckers in jungle boots.

Ready to blow a few months pay
And whip anyone's ass for looking the wrong way.

Rowdy and loud.


Imperialist pricks.
Long on swagger short on dick.

Eh mate got any sisters about?
Asked one blatherin putz as he stimbled about.

Every now and then one strayed from the pack
Drunk and disorderly. Four sheets to the wind.


Well... he kept close after that.

I was about 8 when I became aware that
The big loud men in kilts and fatigues were men
On a mission an ill wind.
but victims of power same as we.

God save our gracious king


God save our glorious king. God save the king

Send him victorious.
Happy and glorious.
Long to reign over us.
God save the king.

placing all our trust in
a little metal box tumbling through the air
looking down on
farmers' fields like checker pieces
huge rivers winding like sunken paths
through sandbox terrain
and glare from the sun shields
terrible mountains
slowly sinking back in jealousy
as we touch an even higher sky
layer upon layer of grey curtain
eventually folds back on itself
to reveal an even greater expanse
of tiny shiny buildings
grids upon grids of humanity
cutting through the planet's skin
leaving tattoos of asphalt
only the sky-dwellers can see
relying on cotton clouds
relying on the breath of the atmosphere
with a soft blow, we're pushed
straight across the sky

theres a darkness in my skin
furrowed somewhere deep within
the place thats made when you're really young
where every song and story begun
I could never sing louder
than the yells and the shouts
the fear in my eyes
tried to blur it all out
but my armor was soft
made of light and love
so some of it
seems to of
snuck in
still fighting now
but my army has grown
imagination and life
now stand by my side
and Im no longer alone
and I never will be
ever
so I fight this divide
one foot on each side
but the enemies are advancing
and I cant keep dancing
on two different stages
Im no longer turning
but burning
the pages
of a story that was never mine
expectations in fragments and phrases
go up in the smoke
but this time as they poke
my armor
I smile, slowly
and blow them away
til
there
                 g o n e

House full of memories still stands,
Almost ready to fall;
The cobwebs of yesterday lands,
Eternal, standing tall.

The voices of those that now sleep,
Echoes 'round inside me;
As I remember I do weep,
Blinded by tears I see.

Now another scene comes to mind,
Of a dream land I know;
Now softly glows the lamps I find,
Ephemeral winds blow.

O, see the childhood mem'ries now,
And all that I once knew;
Sad in fallen shambles I bow,
In other worlds I blew.

Those golden days lay flat I see,
And all the childish ways;
Have grown into a larger me,
And faded are those days.

Those days of Wonderland to fly,
Hours on endless hours pile;
But to those days I've said goodbye,
Just linger for a while.

Sad the house of dreams in ruin,
Is crumbled as a page;
Vague memories left are strewin',
To follow age to age.


~Timothy~

Colonial mansion, in an ocean of grass,
windows aglow as I walk past.
funeral service now used of verandah,
but I hear music, not mournful stanza.
french doors open to a reminisce,
with boyhood heart, of vitreous.

Footfalls on parquet floors,
tux and gown past crown moulded doors.
captured ambiance of a setting sun,
shown from chandeliers highly hung,
day I was born, born day of the prom,
I smiled cordially, and my date fawned.

girls betrothed by corsage on wrist,
rare french curls--a lunar eclipse.
bedraggle boys now dapper and genteel,
vest and bowtie, a knightly feel.
chapperesses smiling at maidenly gait,
happy drowse in  mansion estate.

cufflinks, silk gloves, nail polish of gloss,
beheld tonics and sweets, carefully aloft.
opening cord, an arrow from cupid's bow,
striking coquettes to their tippy toes.
they sprang to dance,I stepped back,
invisible in shadow with tux of black.

shoulders, lake ripples easing to shore,
hips, gentle waves, right before pour.
boys stiff, as if waists beheld sabres,
legs, sweeping brooms of on shore waiters.
"your too handsome to stay here unseen,"
said rivaling chaperess, semblance of queen.

"you should dance ,"said glittered lips of pink,
bent like sparrow wings, during teacup drink.
privy to why in shadow I hid my blush,
her class my crush, that crushed me so much.
she strained me, even the shadows she gave,
black silk, stretching,--convex and concave.

crude metal and wood classroom seat,
clasped her waist of slender physique.
she was guarded by a window in curtain mail,
and tended to by servants of light and gale.
light loved her skin of mediterranean sand,
and wind enraptured with brown strand.

light penetrated strands, blondly hot,
wind would blow, cooling pony tail off.
her shadow curtsied under my desk,
long legs danced in irritableness.
mourning class is abuzz with scent of prom,
flower not frost, rules the school's dawn.

I gave my consent,to an earlier invite,
then on, suitor blinded me with light.
and Great Gatsy, and looming prom night,
subjects of sparrow wings pressed tight.
" show of hands, who do not have a date?"
slender wrist arises, from an arm curvate.

alone, she shown that no one asked her,
this stone of Rome amongst boys of plaster.
hand fell with boy of teachers match,
wind shrouded her,from the window sash
rays gave discomfort,to gaze her way,
but I looked through burning ray.

to see a trace of a tear,in eyes ovate,
a godess unsought, with sadful face.
I, poor, fatherless, could not possible go,
to prom, with princess of arched portico?
I could not interweave my hands to dance,
or know, where I could place my glance.

wind blew a scrap from her desk, indiscreet,
it was pierced by light at my feet.
"will" and "with" were dotted with a heart,
"prom" and "me" before most painful part.
my name in her beautfiul free hand,
the colour red, from hearts inkstand.

class bell rings, I travel to mansion dream,
blue grass meet oriel in cul de sac seam.
eyes turn to cotton, in shadow as I ponder,
as pain was forgotten, I came upon her.
invisible hands, lifted my chin to a red shape,
our eyes met, her's smiling, mine agape.

only a glassmaker could imagine my sight,
seeing hot curves form in dance floor light.
only a wax-wing could have rivaled her eyes,
waves gently broke to gown down her thighs.
"will you dance with me,"she softly entreated,
" I don't know how,"a coward repeated.

a princess which tournaments were held,
for which every timber of mansion were felled.
not for Greece, mansion corinthian column,
for her, from quarry prom did befall them.
I could not tarnish this feminine form,
with my lineage in crown she adorned.

I turned from beauty, to dark acres tread,
under willow, I play the last thing she said.
my name, as I shunned from last chance,
back under willow, cane marks my stance.
I have preserved her forever, shying fate,
even if it was with my own heart-break.
*
I still see her--in the most beautiful prom poses,
still, I see her, as lights flicker out, and a coffin closes.