When I go down to the sea
I can float
On my own
For a while
Like a boat.......
And I can swim around
On the surface
For most of a morning
Like a porpoise
I can dive down deep
For a minute,
Maybe two or three
But I can't live
For very long
In the sea

The land where I can stand
Is meant for me
But whose land?
Will it be?

Who'll let me stand
Who'll let me sit
Who'll let me walk around on it
I can't be
Stuck
In the space
Between countries
I am a refugee
But there's not much difference
Is there
Between you and me
Don't you see

Someone put an elephant
In the middle of my room
To capture conversations
And often predicting doom
Or bragging about something
That it has never done.
This pachydermal pestilence
Certainly is not much fun.

I try to keep things secret
And pretend that they’re not there
Then all of a sudden, ****,
An elephant from somewhere.
I try to deny its existence
Laugh and talk around it all
But the thing is an elephant
Is really not that small.

Then once someone visits
They find it difficult to pretend
That the elephant is not there.
So much for helpful friends.
So, I make up stories to try
To deftly explain things away
But some things are too obvious
No matter what words I say.

Some just give up and leave me
To be the same fool as I act.
But, others get up in my face
And try to deliver some fact.
So, I can’t really be upset
With those who are in my group
But that doesn’t help me clean up
The disgusting elephant ****.

A stranger came
Landing like a fly
Stayed some days
Then didn't want to go away
He thought
This bag
Of bones
And flesh
Was his own
He thought he was home
And didn't seem to know
He'd have to go

To play another part
In another play
In another cabaret



Sean Hunt  Feb  2017

We're deep to our waists
In February;
Trees look like a geriatric pool-fitness class,
And the grass,
Sparse as the bobbing skulls.

      I heard a lone Canada goose overhead,
     The V has left the others for dead;
     And a gray pall covers all
     With winter's threadbare spread.

The alarm is set,
The time is right,
The season's snug,
But not sleeping yet.

     Soon, the beast will close its eyes,
     And Spring will march in,
     Fresh and vigorous,
     Like a new recruit,
     Green and anxious.

She'll fire-up roots, flowers and leafs.
In the pool they'll sway in the breeze,
Branches touching in Spring's reprieve.

I have missed me
I have missed us
Things have not been the same
Maybe someone else is using our name

Some days it feels like we are hands on a clock
just going through all the motions
Other days we are never seen at all
Maybe its just our memory that answers the call

So I miss me
I miss us
Could there be anymore space between us
We are not the same
Maybe someone else is using our name

Is there still love between us
Could things go back to what they were before
Don't we deserve love too
Or do we love ourselves more

Oh how I miss me
I miss us
When we are not the same
For so long now
Someone's been using our name

Not even sure if our hearts work anymore
or if those parts have already died
Do we take a chance on love gone lost
Or just give up throw in the towel and hide

I still do miss me
As I do us
Will we ever be the same
We are trapped inside
Screaming out our name

After the Big War,
his uncles came home
(some of them)
different men but
bearing souvenirs
of devastation.

One was a rifle,
a Karabiner-98,
with stains of death
on its wooden stock.

His uncle wouldn't say
just how he got it.

When his uncle died,
the weapon came to him.

It spoke to him
of glory and bravery.

He was proud to hold
that dead German's gun.

Not many years later,
he returned, shattered,
from his own war.

His only souvenirs
burned in his head.

One *** shrouded night
he tossed the rifle into
the Susquehanna River.

Never again did he
own another weapon.

Comes a time for the
circle to be broken.