when will mankind learn
theres a bell that always rings
to warn us of the changes
it is the cycle of things

we eradicate a pest
and it food source multiplies
its a shame in all our wisdom
we missed that with our eyes

so one problem gets replaced
with one caused by other things
you'd think by now we'd recognise
it is the cycle of things

Would you dance with me
if I were brave enough to ask
From what you've seen and what you've heard
am I worthy of the task

Would you take my hand
and let the other take your waist
Would you let me pull you close to me
or take off in frightful haste

Would you look at me
and stare deep into my eyes
Would the music start to move you
or would fear paralyze

And would we move about the floor
with symmetry and grace
Or would I just be standing here
alone within this place

I haven't danced in many moons
I'm not even any good
but if I had to dance again
you're the one with whom I would

So tell me would you dance with me
and please don't play it cool
It takes more than you know to ask
but hurts more to be a fool

I appears I'm slowly dying
I just found out today
there's a cancer in my body
as I type it eats away

So now I'm kind of lost
I don't know what to say
All the words that dwelt within me
seem to have gone away

There's a death that lies within us all
we seldom get to see
so in a sense I'm lucky
to see the one that lies in me

So with the time that I have left
I don't know what to do
Should it now become all about me
and less about all of you

So there it is, my recent news
or sentence if you will
its seems that I have to swallow
the bitterest of pills

I have lived my life with no regrets
and there's been mistakes I've made
So I guess I'll see what happens next
when in the ground I'm laid.

Please do not wake me from this sleep
leave me in this dream
for here life is perfect
unlike there where its in between

In my dream I live with you
a simple life beside the lake
we got to bed at sundown
and rise as each day breaks

No telephones, alarm clocks
pagers or fax machines.
Just books and pens and paper
filled with poems and other dreams

A stress free life I get to live
at least while I'm asleep
But that seven am wake up call
is the reality I keep

Hopefully we'll meet again
perhaps in dreams tonight
When in our old four poster bed
you'll kiss and hold me tight

She's a very **** lady
is that Angelina J
All the girls want lips like her
but botox ain't the way

It doesn't matter who you are
if you're a model or a dancer
You can get lucious bulbous lips
with The Duct Tape Lip Enhancer

This miracle of science
also available online
and in those "As seen on TV" shops
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This too is guaranteed to work
from the North down to the South
you just take your Duct Tape Lip Enhancer
and stick it over your mouth.

Now unlike the Duct Tape Diet Patch
the instructions don't stop there
You have to press it down real hard
then yank it off with a tear

See not only will your lips swell up
and be bulbous to the max
you'll also have a smooth top lip
thanks to the built in Duct Tape Lip Wax

Everybody wants an easy fix
before it gets too late
so I invented the Duct Tape Slimming Patch
for those who wanna lose weight

This miracle of science
is available online
And in those "As seen on TV" shops
for just $19.99

It's guaranteed to work
from the north down to the south
just take your Duct Tape Slimming Patch
and stick it over your mouth

Summer at the dunes
Local island paradise
Room for everyone
Join the party stay all night
With the crowd or on your own

Is it better to have loved and lost,
than never loved at all,
when the price of losing climbs so high,
and yet ignorance stays small?

The candle light just seems to fit
my dark and sombre mood
as another new relationship
is about to come unglued

Like the inconsistent glow
of the fragile little flame
the fire that once burned so bright
just could not be sustained

and so I sit alone once more
aching in the dark
and wonder why a fool like me
his own words does not hark.

I feel the lights are dimming
as the show comes to an end
Unsure of just what happens next
whats around the coming bend

Could it be that all there is
is all thats gone before
where is the happy ever after
of which the preacher was so sure

And with the doubt come winter chills
the warmth of life too ebbs away
As I close my eyes on christmas eve
to pass alone on christmas day

As I turn my collar to the wind for the first time this year I wonder how much of fall is left. And standing there alone at the shore, the river like glass, I look down to see reflected perfectly, the signs of change. Winters arrival written in the sky to the west.

A pinky grey sky
Winter snowfall beckons me
Hurry home to warmth

A fire's orange lights the room as snow begins to fall. Sat in the sanctuary of home, watching flakes dance on the wind before settling to earth. The mournful moan of the wind punctuated by the snap and pop of logs on the fire. As we fall into winter, this becomes my lullaby.

The spot where he has fallen,
will soon be reclaimed land,
while policy decisions,
carve up this ever shifting sand.

And so it always has been,
current friends we met in war,
as the ebb and flow of policy,
made us enemies before.

So is there anything worth dying for?
If a truce is all it takes,
to end this ****** conflict,
sign one now for all our sakes!

For him that peace has come too late,
for he died there with The Corp.
He's one of the few amongst us,
that has seen the end of war.

Break out the candles
grab the wine
go find the matches
while there's time

Turn on the wireless
find the music for the mood
perhaps some popcorn
before there's no time left to brood

It's gotten colder
you feel a chill run down your spine
no need to worry
you're well prepared, you'll be just fine

You hear her coming
no more the gentle breeze
The dust is flying now
gets in your eyes then makes you sneeze

Batten down the hatches
it's really gonna blow
pull your armchair to the window
settle in and watch the show.

She's right on time
grab a blanket, wrap up warm.
light the candles, pour the wine
enjoy your first date with the storm

Every time I see you
cast my eyes upon your face
I'm taken back in time
to when first I saw your grace

The honesty within your eyes
reflections of your soul
took a man so incomplete
and somehow made him whole

Each day is like the first day
and in that I'm truly blessed
as our journey takes us places
we never would have guessed

Treat me gently for I am fragile,
vulnerable and nervous too
It's been a while since I've been here
and now here I am with you

                                        I'm so very glad you said that
                                        for I too am full of nerves
                                        what if he doesn't like my body
                                        what if he doesn't like my curves

My stomach's full of butterflies
my mouth and throat are dry
more anxious than ever before
a little scared a little shy

                                        My head is full of doubts
                                        doubts I think you'll have of me
                                        I want so much for this to happen
                                        I'm scared you won't like what you see

But I want so much to be with you
for you the be one
to feel myself within your arms
I pray not to come undone

                                        I want to feel your hands upon me
                                        I want to linger in your kiss
                                        I want to give you everything I am
                                        and bask within its bliss

So now we both know that were frightened
and now that we both understand
lets turn the lights down just a little
come over here and take my hand

There’s a funeral across the road today.

Despite the freezing temperatures and impending storm, the car park is full. Friends and family fill the church to say a last goodbye to their lost loved one. At the end, the church bells toll, mournfully. The honour guard of veterans file out and line up behind the hearse, saluting as the casket is brought out.

It never ceases to make me think how that little wooden box is smaller than you would expect it to be. It never seems big enough.

I always look at the coffins and think, “I’m sure he was taller than that.”

But the real discrepancy is not in the stature of the man compared to the size of the coffin, but of the life of the one being carried within it.

Does it really come down to this?

One man’s lifetime of love and adventures, more than most judging by the honour guard, the average age and the number of mourners. Does it all it come down to wooden box that seems too small?

But then I realise something I hadn’t thought of until I sat down to write this.

The measure of this man, the measure of his life, isn’t to be found within that box or even reflected by its size. His life can be measured by those that came to say goodbye. By the sorrow on their faces for the loss of their friend. By the honour guard, standing proud and straight and stronger than their years, to escort their comrade from this world to the next.

And as the snow begins to fall, I can’t help but think, who will be there to measure my life for all to see?

There's never been a time,
when I had it all planned out
when I knew where I was going
without a shadow of a doubt

The path ahead has always been
unfolding as I go
which way it will now take me
I really do not know

Whats behind me does not matter now
for that I cannot change
but I'd like to know the future
and what fate has pre-arranged

Will it be just more of the same
demons faced and trials passed
or perhaps a change of pace
maybe relationships that last

If I can help to shape my future
this is what I'd like to see
Health and wealth and happiness
and someone who's there for me

So now I've got my order in
lets see what lays in store
as I close my eyes and fall asleep
to dream whats through that door.

Every time I close my eyes
I'm haunted by your face
by memories of you and I
a better time, a better place

And now and then when I forget myself
I'm haunted by your smile
as you creep into my thoughts
and linger for a while

Haunted, taunted every night
by the memory of what I lost
too scared to try again one day
unable to meet the cost

Sometimes we measure the value of a gift based solely on its value
"Wow those aren't cheap"
"That must have cost him a pretty penny"
"Thats quite the gift"

All of these things are said as if to impart something special about the gift, as if its increased value increases its value.

And yet the exact same thing can be a bad thing
"Oh its too much, really it is"
"But we hardly know each other"
"I wish you hadn't, it's too soon"

But the irony of all this...

Is that the greatest gift costs nothing

The greatest gift is free

And of all the gifts you ever give to someone, this is the one that you hope above all hope that they return. No receipt necessary.

You can't buy it because its not for sale

You can't create it because it has no parts.

No assembly required (or batteries)

You can't wrap it up in nice paper with a big bow on it because it has no substance.

It doesn't come in a small velvet box

It will always match your eyes, your shoes, your purse and whatever outfit you wear.

It will always fit you perfectly

And it will never make your **** look big

It doesn't wear out, break down, go out of style, look old and jaded or ever get faded.

It grows.

Without sun

Without water

Without effort

This is the gift that I have to give, and all you need to do is know it.

She sits and ponders what to write
what words shall fill this space
words of love and hope and faith
or truths we dare not face?

To reveal darkest secrets
of stories yet untold
of fact or fiction, truth or lies
some of which will leave us cold

To toy with our emotions
and end in subtle twist
draw out our deepest sympathy
and show us signs we’ve missed

Or take us to better place
perfection peace and love
perhaps to place us in the middle
or to show us from above

Perhaps she’s in a witty mood
full of whimsy and delight
tell us tales of rhyming nonsense
to keep us laughing through the night

One things for sure, her writings more
and seldom ever less
Either way she makes our day
the gifted poetess

I’m never the guy in the picture
I wonder why that is
It’s never my hand you’re holding
it always seems to be his

I could be the one that makes you smile
and touches your very soul
That fills you with passion and longing
gives you a yearning to be again whole

But I’m never the guy in the picture
unless the picture is only of me
Just what is it that I’m missing
that means this is the way its to be?

Every time it goes to **** a little piece of me dies with it.
Hearts break sure, but they also mend over time.
What stays broken, what breaks more than it recovers every time though,
is hope
the belief in happiness
the belief in trust
the belief that if you put your everything into something
into someone
that it will all work out in the end
that knowing you would do anything would somehow mean they would too
that they forgive as you would
that they would work at it as you would
that they are somehow as committed as you are
all these things die a little each time, and never come all the way back

I remember paper lanterns with small red candles floating down the river
but I don't remember the festival or in who's honour they were lit.
I remember roadside shrines and little envelopes of money, not proper
money but a special kind who's name I don't remember either.
I remember the big pagoda but couldn't tell you where it was.
I remember so much about those years but there's so much I forgot.
I remember warm rain and warm puddles that we jumped in with flip flops on.
I remember the little guy on the motobike and sidecar that used to come
round selling soda and taking caps for prizes and the bubble stuff in a
tube.
I remember the paper pucks with feathers in that the local kids would
play with like hacky sacks.
I remember the smell on incense in the temples
I remember the markets. The sights, the smells, the sounds of so many
things never seen or heard or smelt before or since.
I remember Hong Kong
And I'm sure its changed since I was 5 but I want to go back and see
just how much.

We divert rivers for desert fountains
Mine the very souls of mountains
yet we cannot spare the cash to feed the poor

Election hopefuls promise lies
while they look us in the eyes
then line their pockets like any other corporate *****

The treasury of this nation
thrives on fiscal *******
massaging figures til the money is all spent

And while we're all left to drown
some get bailed out to higher ground
as they stand upon the ninety nine percent

Why does the power of human greed
come before helping those in need
or is compassion blind, no longer can she see?

I pray to god I'm not alone
so if you appreciate my tone
come out and Occupy this planet Earth with me

For years I saved my tears
in a small glass well
From every tearful high
and every trip to hell

From every deep depression
and rare moment of rage
When I need to write I dip my pen
and spread them on this page

The ink can be the darkest black
to meet a poems needs
or vibrant golden colours
for more uplifting reads

If you understand the concept
of what this poem is about
Perhaps you can tell me what to do
if the ink ever runs out.

Why is it that the girl next door
always lives so far away
and the dreams we seem to share
always end with “well, one day”

Why is there never clarity
in just what’s meant to be
Why can’t we start off simple
“I like you, do you like me?”

From there we’d take a single step
toward where we want to be
and if that all goes the way it should
then there’s step 2 and then step 3

And before you even know it
all the doubts have gone away
left behind amongst the footprints
of the steps we take each day

Til finally we make our stand
before our family and friends
and start the next stage of our journey
one I hope that never ends

The only roads worth travelling
start further from the end.
With higher mountains to climb over
and deeper valleys to descend.

To commit to making the journey
is a commitment made to you
to face life trails together
and to always see them through

The first step of this journey
for me began the day
you turned your back upon the others
and started to look my way

But uncertainty surrounds me
about the path that I am on
should I even make the journey
or did I get the signals wrong

Give me a sign to let me know
I am the chosen one
Dissolve these doubts around me
so I can journey on.

They line up at the kitchen
like they do most every day
half of them not knowing
how their lives turned out this way

They come from different places
no two stories are the same
but its safe to say that none of them
are winning at life's game

There's drinkers and drug takers
just trying to ease the pain
lining up for a hot a meal
not knowing when they'll eat again

Its not until you see all this
that your troubles seem so small
compared to these poor souls
I have no troubles at all

I will think of you my love
before they take me down
I will think of you my love
to help me smile and not frown

I will think of you my love
as they lead me away
I will think of you my love
throughout this my last day

I will think of you my love
as they lead me up the stairs
I will think of you my love
as the hangman he prepares

I will think of you my love
neath hood before the knot
I think of you my love
till my life ends with the drop

And when I've been pronounced
and my soul flies free above
know that for eternity
I will think of you my love

I sit here at my desk again
watching the day go by
Working on the weekend
Why me again, oh why

It's not like I dont have a life
and things I'd rather do
but instead I sit at my desk
looking out the window, feeling blue

And what do I get for my efforts
what makes this all worthwhile
Well to be honest not that much
I dont even get a thanks or a smile

So what say we make this the last one
The last time I sit here like this
Next weekend it will be different
If they dont like it, my *** they can kiss.

There are so many words inside me
that I feel I need to say
But circumstance and other stuff
is always in the way

Every time we get the chance to talk
one of us has to go
So the words keep building up inside
I wish it wasn't so

So I took a chance, I wrote it down
and sent it in the mail
In the hope at least you'll read my words
even if to no avail

At least I'll know I said my piece
that alone will do me good
But will the words upon the paper
reach you in ways I never could

Once a day I get a visitor
occasionally its twice
Its a guy who looks just like me
he seems troubled but quite nice

He shaves his face and brushes his teeth
spits and has a rinse
Tries to flatten that wayward hair
he's not a frog but not quite a prince

And the he looks me in the eyes
and I see the thoughts go round
Eventually he lowers his gaze
and looks down to the ground

He looks to me like someone lost
uncertain of his way
I can see so much inside him
that he has yet to say.

In time I'm sure he'll find his way
better things will come to pass
But I have no way to let him know
for I am his looking glass.

I am no longer who I was
because now I’m someone new
I let the me that used to be
get altered just for you

I guess one of me is to blame
for letting all things change
for accepting the me that you could see
once things got rearranged

I liked the old me quite a lot
and at one time so did you
and yet you kept on changing him
was it just something to do?

The new me doesn’t understand
why the old me would do that
In fact the new me’s thinking
that I want the old me back

And now it seems the me I am
is no more the me for you
so let’s see just how hard it is
if what’s been done we can undo

Me an Jack we out drinking
got a taxi into town
for to have a pint of Guiness
our sorrows for to drown

Well one led to another
as from pub to pub we went
pretty soon we couldn't speak straight
and our money we'd all spent

So we couldn't get a taxi
and the buses were all done
nothing left to do but walk it
and hope we find our way back home

So we walked around in circles
then the depot we did find
sure we could borrow a bus to get us home,
we'd just leave a not behind

Now Jack has pinched a car or two
in times of desperate need
so it only seemed too fitting
he be the one to do the deed

So I stood there like a sentry
as Jack he climbed the gate
He said he'd be two minutes
so I wouldn't long to wait.

But after twenty minutes waiting
I shouted "whats the trouble Jack?"
He said "the bus for Ballyneety
is parked right at de back"

So I told him not to worry
and what to do for best
"Take the bus for Knockananty,
we'll just have to walk the rest."

Let us fill this notebook,
with the words we dare not speak.
Of a love that is forbidden,
lest the havoc it would wreak.

For now we'll keep it secret,
a place to rendezvous,
where you can talk of me,
and I can talk of you.

A place to ask the questions,
normal lovers get to ask.
Only ours will be handwritten,
such is the nature of our task.

A place to write sweet nothings,
and lines of loving prose,
to share our private jokes,
and act like everybody knows.

We'll take turns to enter something,
for each month we are apart.
Consider this my entry,
your turn to grab a pen and start.

But one day we'll take this notebook,
sit together, look within,
and on that day I hope we find,
this single entry found therein.

Am I someones "one that got away"?
Do I keep them awake at night,
with regrets that thing's weren't different,
that they'd not given up the fight?

Is there someone there that thinks of me,
on those damp depressing days,
that makes them smile out the window,
chasing their blahs away?

Do they search for me on Facebook,
have they Googled me at all?
Do they see me here with nothing,
or do they think I have it all?

I guess for sure I'll never know,
if they don't or if they do.
Kinda makes you wonder though,
does someone do that for you?

The truth is we don't think about whats going on in the life of others we think about ourselves.

Its all about us.

How we feel. What we want. What we don't have. What we miss. What we regret. How unfair everything is to us. We all do it. Because life is unfair. Because sometimes life does **** and we don't want it to and we don't deserve it and it just isn't fair.

Thats all.

It's not that we don't care about others, its not that I don't care about you but the first thing I see each day is me. The first feelings I have each day are mine. It's me that feels my pain. And it you that feels yours. But I don't know what your pain is. But I don't know how you feel. And so I focus on myself and only now see the irony that not knowing how you feel or knowing your pain is part of what I feel, is behind my pain.

Until we stop. Until someone makes us stop and draws our attention away from ourselves.

The way you did. The way you have.

And I feel like an ***.

And I feel selfish.

And I wish that I hadn't been thinking of me all along and I wish that I hadn't been preoccupied with what I want and what I need and what I don,t have and I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't see.

I'm sorry I didn't know.

Can you forgive me? Can we go back? Not back to how things were but just back far enough to before I was an *** and before I was selfish and lets talk. Lets talk at that point right there. I had so much other stuff I wanted to say that I never got chance to say because I said the wrong thing. And before I could take it back and before I could explain and before I could do anything you were gone. And since then its all been different. Since then it's ******. Since then I've tortured myself for what I said and you know what? It's gone right back to being about me and I feel like I've learned nothing.

But I can see it now.

Is that better, does it make it less selfish, or me less of an ***?

Tell me how you feel.  Lets start with that and see.

If I may ask you honestly,
could you answer to me true?
Could you tell me without doubt,
just what I am to you?

Am I just another friend,
nothing less and nothing more?
Or am I someone you could see,
knocking at your door?

Would we meet for coffee and a chat,
then go our separate ways,
or would we picnic in the park,
and dream away our days?

Do think of me when I'm not there,
the way I think of you?
Or do I never cross your mind,
you've got better things to do.

I wish that I knew all these things,
and then knew what to do.
Right now I'm caught within the web,
of dreams that lead to you..

So just tell me should I struggle,
break free and then move on,
or will you come to rescue me,
now you know where I'm coming from?

She picked up the phone and cleared her throat
It was time to get this done
As she was punching in his number
The thought flashed past, is he the one?

And it started ringing
two thousand miles away
too late to turn back now
just what's he gonna say

Then a voice upon the other end
said "Hey there, how are you"
and she swallowed hard and cleared her throat
its just a thing she likes to do

The more they spoke the less she cared
about all her fears and doubts
They talked about most everything
life's ups and downs and ins and outs

And by the end her nerves had passed
her throat no longer dry
She hung up the phone with a smile on her face
after they had said goodbye

So thats one step closer taken
it was great and lots of fun
and now and then that thought comes back
"you think he could be the one?"

But what to do and where to go
from here is on her mind
To settle for something less
or take a risk and leave less behind

I wanted to write a poem about peace
but I was too angry
I wanted to write a poem about love
but my passion was elsewhere
I wanted to write a poem about freedom
but there was nothing to stop me
Just as there is nothing to stop you
But you wont
You would rather write about hate
About how people shouldn't be allowed to say that because its not nice and its not respectful and it offends you
But you don't say "they"
because you don't know who they are
You don't say their names
because you can't be bothered to find out
You identify them by their religion
because of the clothes they wear
You identify them by their race
because of the colour of their skin
You took a handful of people and used them to taint almost a quarter of the worlds population.
Congratulations.
And now your words are circling the globe, spreading hate and intolerance while at the same time spreading their message, and so it begins.
The spiral of hatred and terror and fear and mistrust that ends with some young Arab kid kicked to death on the streets of London "cos he looks like a Muslim". The same spiral of hatred and terror and fear and mistrust that ends with a young Muslim walking into a market in Baghdad and killing hundreds as he martyrs himself to defend his home against the invading infidels.
And the only thing that's changed is the body count
The only thing that's changed is the number of mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters and sons and daughters who will have one more reason to cry on this day and mourn their dead while others protest the loss of theirs.
And so it goes on.

If only it had been my words that had circled the earth first and not yours, we may have learned something actually worth learning.

If you really want to stop the killing and the dying and the mourning and the protests that offend you so much, copy and paste THIS and show the world there are still those that can think for themselves, that there is still hope.

I see just a hint of inspiration hanging there
Tantalizing me beyond despair
a vision in the fog
could be a prince, could be a frog
Have I the curiosity to care?

For I'm not sure a poets life's for me
Full of pain, angst and constant agony
Paint my heart upon my sleeve
for the tales that I weave
and publish for the whole world here to see

Could it be though that I suffer for my craft
or has my poetry become my own life raft
am I burned because I write
whether morning noon or night
or am I doomed to be consumed in its backdraft.

Got an issue? I can fix it.
Broken heart? I mend those too
But when you’re done and fly away
don’t take a piece of me with you

Just once I’d like someone to fix
the one that’s left behind
The one from way back yesterday
who was honest, true and kind

Who took the time to listen
to all you had to say
on who’s shoulder you shed many tears
in whose heart you live today

You see I have a secret
it’s that I am broken too
but thoughts of me get pushed aside
and replaced by thoughts of you

But if the past repeats itself
I know I’d do it all again
Even if the price for selflessness
is solitude and pain.

And the music fell like rain from an unseen apartment somewhere in the quarter.
Warm summer rain.
Light and refreshing.

The kind of rain you didn't mind getting wet in and soaked to the skin with.

A single Saxophone.

A single Saxophone played not just with the lips and the fingers and the lungs, but with the soul.

Its delicate melody trickled down the rooftops and overflowed onto the streets below.
Somewhere in this labyrinth of alley ways and courtyards and balconies was a poet.

A poet in love.

A musical poet.

A musical poet creating rhyme and rhythm and feeling with just a handful of notes and a heart full of passion.

For though there were no words to accompany this music you knew, you just knew what was being said.
Every drop of rain, every note had a purpose, a message. A message that carried you off and made you forget. Forget where you were, where you were going and all the things that made life not so good. You forgot all that and let it be washed away by the rain.

And you closed your eyes

And you smiled

And you felt like dancing, right there in the street, a slow dance, a gentle sway.

And as quickly as you noticed it, it stopped.

Then you felt the chill

The first drop, the second.

Then it really did rain, the heavens truly opened.

And you closed your eyes

And you smiled

And so the rain begins
to try and wash away the past
Relentless in its downpour
I wonder will it last

Will be sufficient
to wash away the pains
that lingered all these years
like some oh so stubborn stains

Or will it all come flooding back
with debris from days gone by
will I rise above the current
or will I simply drown and die

For now it gives a moment’s pause
distracts me from this place
and soaks me to my very bones
while I’m chilled in its embrace

Eventually my Spring will come
rain will stop and floods recede
Only then will my sun shine again
only then will I be freed.

Is there anything so arrogant
as the species we call man
That for reasons of pure profit
interferes with natures plan

So blind we miss the harmony,
the balance thats here on earth.
Instead we change the way things work
to control just what its worth

We change the way that rivers flow
so our hotels can have pools
but we fail to see the value
in keeping open schools

Our priorities seem somewhat warped
twisted and out of sorts
I guess thats to be expected
in the land where money talks

And now the earth is fighting back
against this virus known as man
Global warming is its tool
you see she has a plan.

We miss the point when we rant and rave
about a planet in decline.
Its we who are on our way out
the planet will be just fine.

And two hundred million years from now
when to us, the earth will seem old
It will look back on global warming
as the fever that got rid of the cold

There's a reason there's a path outside your door
that leads to a road
that leads to an interstate,
that leads to an airport.

And there's a reason that planes fly from that airport
to one near here.

Same reason that airport has a road
that leads to a highway
a highway that they are repairing as we speak
that leads to my town
to a path that leads to my door

And its not just coincidence.

Any more than its coincidence that you are reading this.

Is there a place that one can go
to truly be alone
to escape the hustle of our lives
and traffics monotone
Is there a place where I can sit
notepad and pen in hand
And capture the true nature
of this majestic land.
My needs are very simple
just somewhere to rest my head
with a simple little woodstove
and a comfortable bed
I have no need of music
for nature plays my song
I will fall asleep to crickets
and awake to sparrows throng
I will read alone by candlelight
the poems of the day
And think of friends I left behind
who would love to live this way
But for now all this is just a dream
that one day may come true
And it seems a little closer
no that its been shared with you