Gentle cricket of yonder chirp
Rhythmic in you solitary cry
Edging my humble forgotten thorp
Where dreams peter out and die

A village slipping with the vale
Tis mine, and alone for me
Ragged breath struggling I fail
No rectitude in this misery

The huddles empty with molded thatch
Walking down valley to meet dell
The cricket  summons a parting glass
Sweet regards friend, farewell

Hands of love caress with carring certainty.
Eyes of lust linger on languished lips
Hearts of Hearts exist infinitly
Lost, lovers joined at the hips.

Do I feel
My nights afflicted by insomnia
Is it real
amor vincit omnia


July a cold month, in loving embrace
The nights march forward
In a loving rat race
Care for me, never leave me
She says so sweet
Once in hazy humidity
And our souls are complete

No, this is not me
Lost in blonde sheaves
This is her
Fearing I'll leave

The road I yearn for
Set out before me
The out door
Sets me free

Hand me The parting glass
Hand me the the last of the whisky
Cheap one drank cold and fast
One born Larceny

Tethered together
Me and the pavement
No time for forever
No time for enslavement

No time to affectionately embrace
None for love, idyllic, and family
No time for my future to be traced
None for domestic calamity

Take me to the sanctity of Alta Gracia,
Wash me with the cleansing waters of the LaBarque,
Putting to rest the inexorable, Rome and Thracia,
A beginning to an end that is stark.

Fly me on the wing to a melodious memory,
Bury me in a sentimental tomb
Forget me in the centuries
And leave me for doom

Remember the nights of KirkWood,
Putting behind the restaurants
Having penny brews,
Utterances of "the world is ours if only, if only"
If only we knew,
Life's eventual consignment,
Would we still sit in ****** idleness
Would we still shrink from our fearfulness,
Would we still resolve to our confinement.

I can't keep myself from yawning
And stuttering in the cognitive fog
"What's the word, what's the word"
Ideas stumbling along.
Minor in a major song
Claustrophobia in the citys throng

Tethered to hayseed communities,
Languishing in outer fringe suburbia.

Golden glow and luminous stars
Exist in but a second between
The great bow man and distant mars
The heavenly body's have always been

The radiant sun rises from the shallows
As a blanket of fabric drapes the river
The light shines on glorious hallows
Behind the water comes the great giver

A time between the heat of day
And the cold dark of night
A time where memories stay
Just before Procyons flight

My mother was worn down
By another fleeting frantic morning
My brother bounced 'round
And erupting with around
Earned himself another scorning

I lay between sleeping soundlessness
And wakeful motion
And me in my restfulness
So comfortable and not yet dressed
Was committed to my devotion

To be obstinate through disruptions
ignoring the turmoil of my mother
my brother's scheming decptions
His  boiling youthful eruptions
the sounds of smacks that fell upon my brother

And me now stiring
Smiled at the swelling scene
And now aware of what was occurring
Laughed with senses keen
And still not prepared
To intervene
Stretched and stared
At the battered fiend

I have laboured to long in lofty warehouses,
Sweating and beating my youth ere destined.
Bonded to work; married capitalist, dreaded spouses,
Stocks of little value I've invested in.
I, still young, the light of verdant fields upon my face,
As refreshing as the woolly violet,
At the eve of spring when winter fails to pace,
Radiating purple defiantly inviolate.
Bent back, broken ambition
Youth fails at maturities fruition