Soon, I’ll sleep again,
And I will feel no pain,
For a little time,
Peace will be all mine,
My mind will seek
Freedom from the past,
And I’ll be carefree,
Although it will not last.

I’m so sorry, my beloved old friend,
I didn’t even know you had gone,
That you had left us very suddenly,
Some twenty years ago last February,
Please forgive me, my beloved old friend,

For failing to see you more frequently,
For I might have provided some comforting,
Even lessened your terrible suffering,
But I only found out recently,
Please forgive me, my beloved old friend.

Time travel, baby,
Set me free,
Time travel got a hook in me,
Time travel, baby,
Set me free,
Time travel got a hook in me,

In disguise as a young man in the city,
But the bright young life
No longer belongs to me,
I ain’t no London dude,
I'm just a carbon copy,
Doing some travelling,

Time travel, baby
Set me free,
Time travel got a hook in me,
Time travel, baby,
Set me free,
Time travel got a hook in me,

Seeing places that I knew in ’77,
When I was young
And in love with London town,
Please don’t ask me
Where those fleeting years have flown to,
They’ve just gone travelling,

Time travel, baby,
Set me free,
Time travel got a hook in me,
Time travel, baby,
Set me free,
Time travel got a hook in me,

In disguise as a young man in the city,
But the bright young life
No longer belongs to me,
I’m a visitor
From a distant generation
Doing some travelling,

Time travel, baby,
Set me free,
Time travel got a hook in me,
Time travel, baby,
Set me free,
Time travel got a hook in me.

Oh, at long last
I’ve found you,
Only the news
Ain’t so good,
Seems you found love,
You seem happy,
And so fulfilled,
But did I think that
You’d be lonely
For all those years?
Oh, what was I
Looking for?
You tried so hard,
But I never thawed,
Seems you found love,
I’m so unhappy,
Cos I never knew
What I found and,
What I lost and,
How much I’d miss you.

Another me
There was another me
But not the better me,
But so carefree,

A better me,
That’s who I am today,
So secluded that I may be
A better me,

I brought
Happy go lucky joy,
To many,
You might say I was a golden boy,

A better me,
That’s who I am today,
So secluded that I may be,
A better me,

I can’t be the madcap
I used to be,
Simply,
I would not wish to be,

A better me,
That’s who I am today,
So secluded that I may be,
A better me.

How my heart can ache for the lonely,
Then I’d like to comfort them all,
Hold them close
Until their sorrow goes,
This great big world
Can seem so cold,

O woe, some end up alone,
Forlorn souls
Longing for someone,
That’s all,
Someone to save them,
What’s more, someone to love them.

I do not understand
Why he sabotaged me so consummately,
And made me look like  
Such a pathetic old patsy,

Could he not discern the misery
He was shoring up by degrees,
Over the course of the years
For the self he would ultimately be?

It was perforce a former version of me,
Who led me to this place
Of near-incessant mourning,
A narcissistic anomaly,

Who never wanted the precious gifts
Of peace and domesticity,
The little ones that might have been,
He spirited them all away from me.

I betrayed myself
During my younger days,
And opened myself up to shame,
I betrayed myself
During my younger days,
Over and over again,

And there are times
That knowing what I did
Is too much for me to stand,
And there are times
That knowing what I did
Is a source of the utmost pain,

I betrayed myself
During my younger days,
Repeatedly wrecked my dreams,
I betrayed myself
During my younger days,
Over and over again.

Dear one, what did you say?
A dining hall, a distant day,
It seems it was time
For goodbye,
Speaking of my eyes,
‘They shine so bright’,
Words said (or words of this kind),

If this was true and that they did,
Because of feelings that I hid,
I must have longed
For you to stay,
But I didn’t beg you, ‘please don’t leave!’
I must have seemed so cavalier,
And something precious had to fade.

Oh! With what unspeakable anguish
Do I regret the vocation
I came so close
And so oft to having
The sweet acclamation
That might have been mine.

Had I tried and failed,
That would scarcely concern me,
Yet, I squandered my resources
Time and time again,
And failed so unnecessarily,
That is what so torments me.

I only wish I could contemplate
More than a mere handful
Of past achievements with pride
And satisfaction,
But even this paltry compensation,
Remains stubbornly beyond me.

Oh! With what unspeakable anguish
Do I regret the vocation
I came so close
And so oft to having
The sweet acclamation
That might have been mine.

I go back, though
Sometimes it’s filled with pain,
I go back, ’cos
Nothing will be the same,
Precious places
I first knew,
When life and youth
And love were new,
I flow back, and
Memories flow back too.

You told me that your name was Maria,
And that you came
From the Netherlands,
But you looked more like a Latina,
With flowing dark hair,
Perhaps a natural tan,

I was in love,
So much in love,
But I let love pass me by,
All through my life,
So much of my life,
I have let love pass me by.

You left me with a casual ‘I’ll see you’,
But I looked for you
All over London town,
It’s like that I was paralysed with fear,
I could have sworn
I saw you on the underground,

I was in love,
So much in love,
But I let love pass me by,
All through my life,
So much of my life,
I have let love pass me by.

I go back,
Though sometimes it’s filled with pain,
I go back,
‘cos nothing will be the same
Precious places
I first knew,
When life and youth,
And hope were new
I flow back,
And memories flow back too.

O how
Ruefully I pine
For mi pueblito perdido,
What I wouldn’t give,
To be young again,
And happy as I was back then.

Maria, full of peace,
Do you remember
Francis Albert softly keening
O Amor Em Paz,
And other songs by Jobim,
Happy as you were back then?

O for
That wide-eyed
Impression of yours,
Paquita (la de Murcia),
Of your beloved Mary Lyn,
Happy as you were back then.

O how
Ruefully I pine
For mi pueblito perdido,
What I wouldn’t give,
To be young again,
And happy as I was back then.

Yes, I regret
The scornful dissipation
Of my salad days
When I was strong,

Believe me,
They didn’t last too long,
Believe me,
They didn’t last too long.

Yes, I regret
All that I squandered
O’er the course
Of about fifteen years,

Believe me,
I’ve cried quite a sea of tears,
Believe me,
I’ve cried quite a sea of tears,

Yes, I regret
If I e’er acted cavalierly
Towards any who sought to love me
With a trusting heart,

Believe me,
I’m not so proud of my past,
Believe me,
I’m not so proud of my past.

When I was young,
I was so carefree,
At least that’s how
It seems to me,
Isn’t it strange,
How things turn out to be?

Full of hope,
Full of passionate dreams,
A thrilling new world
Lay right before me,
Isn’t it strange,
How things turn out to be?

Glass half full,
Then it’s half empty,
My mood can change
So very unpredictably,
Isn’t it strange,
How things turn out to be?

I yearned for another,
Who wasn’t you,
But she wasn’t there,
Unlike you,
At a long lost party
In old Cambridge town.

Did I fall
Just a little for you,
While longing for another,
Who wasn’t you,
At a long lost party
In old Cambridge town.

Soon, I’ll sleep again,
I will feel no pain,

For a little time,
Peace will be all mine.

My mind will seek
Freedom from the past,

I’ll be carefree,
Although it will not last.

Soon, I’ll sleep again,
I will feel no pain.

One summer’s eve in Spain,
I fled through an open window,
Butterflies aflight
In the very pit of me,
And I tramped the streets,
My heart abrim
With such a love,
But a love now long gone.

With my final matches,
I forged a heart
At that maiden’s doorstep;
I was like a thief,
On that torrid night,
My heart abrim
With so much love,
But a love now long gone.

And what of the maiden in azure?
O! What an inferno raged
Within my soul for her,
But that love
Never bloomed beyond a dream,
My heart abrim
With such a love,
But a love now long gone.

How I try to count my blessings,
They do little to ease my saudade,
Look to the past
For some consolation,
But the past remains resistant,
O woe, where is hope?
I feel so old, and so alone…

Twenty years to destroy an existence,
Is all it took,
To steal my contentment,
Look to the past for a glimmer of peace,
To the past for a little release.
O woe, where is hope?
I feel so old, and so alone…

On one level, I feel so blessed,
Cleave to life with all my strength,
There’s so much to be thankful about,
‘Til I sink back into deepest night,
O woe, where is hope?
I feel so old, and so alone…

I feel a deep, deep sorrow,
As life nears its final page,
The hardship that comes with age,
I simply can’t help but rage,

But somehow, there’s a special sorrow,
In tears cried for love long gone,
In remembrance, suffuséd with pain
Of my lost angel.

I feel a deep, deep sorrow,
In promise that’s unfulfilled,
In youth that has been misspent,
In a life with so much regret,

But somehow, there’s a special sorrow,
In tears cried for love long gone,
In remembrance, suffuséd with pain
Of my lost angel.

Angel, I remember you,
I’ve missed you for so long,
Angel, you belong
To memories,

Angel, when I think of you,
I hear sad romantic songs,
Songs that make me long
For yesterday.

I feel a deep, deep sorrow,
As life nears its final page,
The hardship that comes with age,
I simply can’t help but rage,

But somehow, there’s a special sorrow,
In tears cried for love long gone,
In remembrance, suffuséd with pain
Of my lost angel.

Costa Calida sun,
I hope we’re reunited,
Though I can’t say when,
I may see you again,

Costa Calida sun
Means memories romantic,
Of when that I was young,
Memories of Spain.

He had no insight into the mysteries
Of the gilded sports
Of the British social elite,
By the time he arrived at his beloved college,
Long, long ago in a long-forgotten England,

And in later years, when he looked back at his beloved college,
He'd insist if he possessed a single quality
That might be termed noble
He owed it to his education,
And not least the four years he spent there,

And there’d be times when certain pieces
Of quintessentially English pastoral music
Still had the power to evoke his strange and sudden flight,
While seeming to him to bespeak a passion
For the Arcadian soul of England that verged on the ecstatic,

And others when he’d dream of a day
He might return to the scene of his flight as if in atonement,
And commune with the soul of his beloved England,
With a passion verging on the ecstatic,
And then put the memory to rest for all time,

For he absconded once...just the once it was...
To avoid being chastised for something foolish he did,
And he finished up wandering, forlornly wandering,
His boots freshly caked with the purest English soil,
Long, long ago in a forgotten field in England.

In every case, there is a sorrow
Attached to advancing age,
And the decline attendant upon it,
Decline physical, mental, emotional,
In every case, there is a sorrow.

But somehow, there is a special sorrow,
In the pathetic tears
Of an ageing man,
Looking back at the thousand plus follies
Of a stupidly misspent youth,

But somehow there is a special sorrow,
Attached to those who look back
With eyes filled with the tears
Of fathomless and torturous regret,
And of promise unfulfilled.

There was a sadness I revered
But never possessed,
Because there was youth
And hope to spare,

But as youth ebbs,
And hope recedes,
I know that sadness for real,
And how sad true sadness feels.

It’s happening again,
Such unbearable pain,
And if my soul is crying
As my heart is breaking, then that’s fine…

I’ve let so many people down,
Lost so many beautiful opportunities
I feel so failed and forlorn,
But is that really such a tragedy?

Perhaps, rather,
It’s a positive thing,
Shouldn’t a true artist be suffering?
At least I’m feeling something…

It’s happening again,
Such unbearable pain,
And if my soul is crying
As my heart is breaking, then that’s fine…

I was sad today;
Because you begged me
To think of your good points,
And I never told you any.

Rest assured there are many,
Very many, I would have liked
To have told you them
There and then.

I tell you so much about my past,
Quite a lot of which is conflictive,
As if several mes
Were struggling for supremacy.

Much of the time,
There was a pretty normal me;
Oh don't get me wrong,
I was always an attention-seeker,

But I really do genuinely struggle
To make sense,
I really do genuinely struggle
To make sense of me in the past.

One day I'd like to go
In search of my past,
Of all the memories
Of my youth.
I cry for all my souvenirs,
And I dream of a future,

Where I can atone
For all the follies
Of my existence,
And where I might
Contemplate my past
In peace at long last.

Perhaps she lives
In our dreams alone,
She whose face is
Illumined
By the rays
Of the sun,
While the dansette plays
Some romantic melody,
O how I love
The one
Who lives in my perfect love.

It's so strange,
The morning comes,
And there are tears in my eyes;
My dream has disappeared,
Lost in the wind of time;
She who looked at me
With such tenderness,
While the dansette played
Some romantic melody
O how I love the one
Who lives in my perfect love.

Memories leave me in peace,
O my past,
Where did you flee,
My golden youth,
All squandered,
All gone,
My thoughts torment me,
Precious faith, please
Comfort me,
For what is my life
Without you.

Perhaps she lives
In our dreams alone,
She whose face is
Illumined
By the rays
Of the sun,
While the dansette plays
Some romantic melody,
O how I love
The one
Who lives in my perfect love.

I was once in thrall to the infamous myth
Of the artiste souffrant,

But I’ve come ultimately to see it
As the cruelest of delusions.

But could it not be said
That it’s still among us,

That malefic notion
That the artist is a spirit set apart,

For some special purpose
Of which pain is an essential component?

There was a long vanished England
Of well-spoken presenters
Of the BBC Home Service,
Light Service, and Children’s Favourites,
Of coppers and tanners, and ten bob notes;
And jolly shopkeepers, and window cleaners.

I remember my cherished Wolf Cub pack,
How I loved those Wednesday evenings,
The games, the pomp and seriousness of the camps,
The different coloured scarves, sweaters and hair
During the mass meetings,
The solemnity of my enrolment,

Being helped up a tree by an older boy,
Baloo, or Kim, or someone,
To win my Athletics badge,
Winning my first star, my two year badge,
And my swimming badge
With its frog symbol, the kindness of the older boys.

What was I thinking,
I let you go,
I wasn't drinking, still
I let you go,
Where was my head at to
Let you go,
I can't accept that I just
Let you go.
                                                                    
I wish I could make
Amends,
So we could at least
Be friends,
I have no real
Reason why,
I let you
Say goodbye.
                                                                    
Did I confuse you when
I let you go,
Such a fool to have
Let you go,
You were so precious, still
I let you go,
Worth more than jewels, still
I let you go.
                                                                    
I wish we could
Start again,
I'd be quite
A different man,
I've learned quite a lot
Since then,
I know how
To keep a friend.
                                                                    
We could meet up in the
Centre of town,
And I'd explain my motivations,
About how I came
To let you down,
And all those other
Explanations,
And crazy complications.
                                                                    
I'm not asking for
Romance,
Just give me half
A chance,
I’ve come to have
A good, kind heart,
So how about
A brand new start.
                                                                    
What was I thinking,
I let you go,
I wasn't drinking, still
I let you go,
Where was my head at to
Let you go,
I can't accept that I just
Let you go.

I love, not just those
I knew back then,
But those
Who were young
Back then,
But who've since
Come to grief, who,
Having soared so high,
Found the
Consequent descent
Too dreadful to bear,
With my youth itself,
Which was only
Yesterday,
No, even less time,
A mere moment ago,
How could
Such a short space
Of time
Cause such devastation?

If I wasn’t sure
Of all the nostalgia
I’d endure,
I would wish to explore
Some of those moments again.

How your mummy, she knew mine,
They’d been friends
For a little time,
Like the time that you explained,
Your first name, it was Jane.

I really loved you, Jane,
Though you only gave me pain,
You were the girl
Who said hello the first,
But it only ended for the worse.

In our local swimming pool,
I swam so close to you,
Did you smirk
To your bob-haired friend,
Between the deep and shallow end?

So I just shyly slinked away,
Feeling such a fool that day,
Pet Clark reinforced
My bitter woe,
Singing "My Love" on the radio.

I really loved you, Jane,
Though you only gave me pain,
You were the girl
Who said hello the first,
But it only ended for the worse.

To see you in the morning,
Be with you in the evening,
To see you here
At every time of day,
Such a simple prayer,
To see you at every time of day.
                                                                    
To hold you when you're laughing,
Console you when you're crying,
Take care of you
At every time of day,
Such a simple prayer
To see you at every time of day.
                                                                    
So tell me why you push me away,
When I've sworn to be
Forever true,
When I've pledged
My pure and simple heart to you?
How can you be so cruel?
                                                                    
To see you in the morning,
Be with you in the evening,
To see you here
At every time of day,
Such a simple prayer,
To see you at every time of day.

From morn to friendless night,
He tramps the streets,
Just in case he might
Come across her, he's a tragic sight,
But he doesn’t care,
Love gives him might,
He haunts the cafes and the discos
And the bars, so lovelorn.
                                                              
He knows that he won't find her,
But he's got to keep on trying,
It gives some meaning
To his life,
It gives some substance
To his time,
It is his motive, and his project,
And his plan, so lovelorn.
                                                              
He only met her once,
But it changed his life,
And it changed his type,
And it changed his mind,
And he threw it all up,
As if he'd gone insane,
And he took to the streets,
And another man was born.
                                                              
They say love comes but once
For some, but when it does,
It's like a mighty
Atom bomb inside,
A disease that seizes
A gentle soul,
And if it comes for you,
You'd better try to hide.
                                                              
From morn to friendless night,
He tramps the streets
Just in case he might
Come across her, he's a tragic sight,
But he doesn't care,
Love gives him might,
He haunts the cafes and the discos
And the bars, so lovelorn.

If I fell in love with you,
I would like to
Make my dreams come true,
You could fulfill all yours too,
So come on, honey,
Just one look will do,
I'll lose my heart to you,
Like all the moonstruck do.
                                                                    
We could go all round the world,
Just like other
Moonstruck boys and girls,
So come on, honey, don't be scared,
We are only young once,
Say the word,
I'll lose my heart to you,
Like all the moonstruck do.
                                                                    
Bali, Frisco, Rio, or wherever
You may choose,
The world's our oyster, honey,
There'll be no more bad news,
We could leave tomorrow,
I tell you we can't lose,
We will soon be
Saying bye bye to those blues.
                                                                    
If I fell in love with you,
I would like to
Make my dreams come true,
You could fulfill all yours too,
So come on, honey,
Just one look will do,
I'll lose my heart to you,
Like all the moonstruck do.

She's precious as can be,
She means so much to me,
So much to me.
She spells generosity,
And she's always been
A friend in need.
Been so many years
Since that we
First met in our heyday,
So young and so free,
Sun-soaked days,
No tears, no cares,
Back in our heady heyday,
What I'm trying to say,
Is I think the world of she.

She's tender as can be,
Her kindness is for real,
So real for me,
She sends her warmth to me,
Like gentle poetry
That I can feel.
Been so many years
Since that we
First met in our heyday,
So young and so free,
Sun-soaked days,
No tears, no cares,
Back in our heady heyday,
What I'm trying to say,
Is I think the world of she.

Kind faces smiling,
Nodding politely at words
They don’t seem to understand.
Show me pictures
Showing the richness of
A faraway distant land.
Multicoloured motor cars,
Brown apartments rising high
In Puerto Rican skies.

the catholic nurse
all sensitive
caring noticing
everything
what can she think
of my hot/cold torment

always near blowing it
living in the fast lane
so friendly kind
the girls
dewy eyed
wanda abandoned me
bolton is in my hands

and yet my coldness
hurts
the more emotional
they stay
trying to find a reason
for my ice-like suspicion
fish eyes
coldly indifferent eyes
suspect everything that moves

socialising just to be loud
compensate for cold
lack of essential trust
warmth
i love them
despite myself
my desire to love
is unconscious and gigantesque

i never know
when i'm going to miss someone
strange coldness perplexing
i've got to work to get devotion
but once i get it
i really get people on my side
there are my people
who can survive
my shark-like coldness
and there are those
who want something
more personal
i can be very devoted to those
who can stay the course

my soul is aching
for an impartial love of people
i'm at war with myself.

Babe, where's your smile,
Don't be a melancholy child,
Can't you see
That the summer's come?
                                                                    
Stuck in your room
With your winter curtains drawn,
While the suburbs
Are all bathed in sun.
                                                                    
No more winter time lows,
Only joy now because
We can shake off the blues,
Love, there's no time to lose.
                                                                    
We can go for a cruise
Down the Thames
Or down the Ouse,
Or just snooze under summer's sun,
                                                                    
Find a village green,
Watch some cricket,
Take some tea, as you please,
Summer's made for fun.
                                                                    
Get some sweet summer air,
Feel the breeze in your hair,
Forget that sad old affair,
He's not worth all the tears.
                                                                    
Babe, where's your smile,
Don't be a melancholy child,
Can't you see
That the summer's come?

Come away with me
To toil upon the sea,
Come away and see
How sweet sea life can be,
I'll sing Bonnie Dundee
Off the coast of
Old Guernsey, you and me
As toilers of the sea, as toilers of the sea.
                                                                    
Help me put that wrecked
Romance away from me,
Help me understand
How it was lost at sea,
It wasn't destined to be,
She belonged to another not me,
What’ll be will be,
For toilers of the sea, for toilers of the sea.
                                                                    
I can stand it if you're
There with me,
For the solitary life at sea
Is enough to make you
Sea crazy,
With the whales
And gulls for company,
For toilers of the sea, for toilers of the sea.
                                                                    
We can ponder on
The ocean's mysteries,
I'll unveil a few of
My old sea stories,
You'll see how kind a tar can be,
I promise you'll be safe with me,
When we're out at sea
As toilers of the sea, as toilers of the sea.

I seldom indulge in letter writing
Because I consider it
To be a cold and illusory
Means of communication.
I will only send someone a letter
If I'm certain it's going to serve
A definite functional purpose,
Such as that which I'm
Scrupulously concocting at present
Indisputably does.
It's not that I incline
Towards excessive premeditation;
Its rather that I have to subject
My thoughts and emotions
To quasi-military discipline,
As pandemonium is the sole alternative.
I'm the compensatory man par excellence.
                                                              
Deliberation, in my case,
Is a means to an end,
But scarcely by any means,
An end in itself.
This letter possesses not one,
But two, designs.
On one hand, its aim is edification.
Besides that, I plan to include it
In the literary project upon which
I'm presently engaged,
With your permission of course.
Contrary to what you have suspected
In the past,
I never intend to trivialise intimacy
By distilling it into art.
On the contrary, I seek
To apotheosise the same.
                                                              
You see...I lack the necessary
Emotional vitality to do justice
To people and events
That are precious to me;
I am forced, therefore,
To at a later date call
On emotive reserves
Contained within my unconscious
In order to transform
The aforesaid into literary monuments.
You once said that my feelings
Had been interred under six feet
Of lifeless abstractions;
As true as this might be,
The abstractions in question
Come from without
Rather than within me:
                                                              
My youthful spontaneity
Many mistrustfully identified
With self-satisfied inconsiderateness
(A standard case of fallacious reasoning),
And I was consequently
The frequent victim
Of somewhat draconic cerebrations.
I tremble now
In the face of hyperconsciousness.
I've manufactured a mentality,
Riddled with deliberation,
Cankerous with irony;
Still, in its fragility,
Not to say, artificiality,
It can, with supreme facility,
Be wrenched aside to expose
The touch-paper tenderness within.
                                                              
With characteristic extremism,
I've taken ratiocination
To its very limits,
But I've acquainted myself with,
Nay, embraced my antagonist
Only in order to more effectively throttle him.
Being a survivor of the protracted passage
Through the morass of nihilism,
Found deep within
"the hell of my inner being,"
I am more than qualified to say this:
There is no way out
Of the prison of ceaseless sophistry.
There are many things I have left to say,
But I shall only have begun to exist in earnest
When these are far behind me,
In fact, so far as to be all but imperceptible.
                                                              
I long for the time
When I shall have compensated to my satisfaction.
I never desired intellectuality; it was ****** upon me.
Everything I ever dreaded being, I've become
Everything I ever desired to be, I've become.
I'm the sum total of a lifetime's
Fears and fantasies,
Both wish-fulfillment
And dread-consummation incarnate.
I long for the time
When I shall have compensated to my satisfaction.
I never desired intellectuality; it was ****** upon me.  
I'm the sum total of a lifetime's
Fears and fantasies,
Both wish-fulfillment
And dread-consummation incarnate.
I'm the compensatory man par excellence.

I feel at one with sweethearts
Through the years,
With the wartime lovers
Who went overseas,
All the shattered hearts,
All the rivers of tears,
I feel them all.

Verses of love,
Lovers who must part,
Portraits of love
Worn so very close to the heart,
All the lovers lost,
Loves that never even start,
I feel them all.

Dear, I haven't been in touch
For a long time.
Sorry.
The last time I saw you
Was in St. Christopher's Place.
It was a lovely evening...
When I knocked that chair over.
I am sorry.
Since then,
I've had not a few accidents
Of that kind.
                                                              
Just three days ago,
I slipped out in a garden
At a friend's house...
And keeled over, not once,
Not twice, but three times,
Like a log...clonking my nut
So violently that people heard me
In the sitting room.
What's more,
I can't remember a single sentence
Spoken all evening. The problem is...

Love, you've left me once again,
Gone to catch an early plane,
Where you gonna fly this time,
In search of the perfect clime?

I am the one you leave behind,
Worried out of my tiny mind,
I was the one who saw you through,
I need your care and loving too.

Love, you've left the happy home,
You've pledged your solemn word you'll phone,
But I would rather you were here,
You've no conception of my fear.

Halfway across a crazy world,
Is no place for such an unknowing child,
If only you could see me cry,
Then maybe you'd stop to wonder why.

Stevie, we were free,
Stevie, you and me,
On that golden day,
Was it '68?
The decade's last few days,
The whole wild world was crazed,
But where we were was peace,
For you and me at least.
                                                                    
If I stop for a moment,
I dream groves and country paths,
Green's Albatross is playing
In this our past,
Whole empires were falling,
The old ways were fading fast,
Things never last,
But you and I found peace at last.

We weren't friends for long,
Things began so strong,
We were far from home,
Together less alone,
We drifted far apart,
We grew up oh so fast,
We had so far to fall,
Four years took their toll.
                                                                    
We walked and talked
For many hours,
Safe under blue Berkshire skies.

And so the party...Zoë
Called me...I listened
To her problems;
References
To my innocent face.
Linda said:
"Sally seems elusive
But is in fact,
Accessible;
You're the opposite -
You give to everyone
But are incapable
Of giving in particular."

Madeleine was comparing me
To June Miller;
Descriptions by Nin:
"She does not dare
To be herself..."
Everything I'd always
Wanted to be, I now am.
"...She lives
On the reflections
Of herself in the eyes
Of others...
There is no June
To grasp and know."

I kept getting up to dance
Sally said: "I'm afraid;
You're inscrutable;
You're not just
Blasé
Are you?"
I spoke
Of the spells of calm,
And the hysterical
Reactions,
Psychic exhaustion,
Then anxious elation.

Shooting star
With a quicksilver mind,
You deserve to go so far,
Can't someone stop you
Before you ruin your soul
With irreversible harm?
                                                                    
Drinking all day,  
Every single day,
Out of your head on *****,
Is this the life,  
Is this the way,
A gifted child should choose?
                                                                    
Your beautiful lethal life
My friend,
Has sent you around the bend,
Your foolish defiant
Decadent dance
Could soon be at an end.
                                                                    
But you don't care
Do you, shooting star?
As you drift in your blissful dream.

"Temper your enthusiasm,"
She said,
"The extremes of your reactions;
You should have
A more conventional frame
On which to hang
Your unconventionality."
"Don't push people,"
She said,
"You make yourself vulnerable."

She told me not to rhapsodise,
That it would be difficult,
Impossible, perhaps,
For me to harness my dynamism.
The tone of my work,
She said,
Is often a little dubious.
She said
She thought
That there was something wrong.

That I'm hiding
Some sad
Dark secret from the world.
"Temper your enthusiasm,"
She said,
"The extremes of your reactions;
You should have
A more conventional frame
On which to hang
Your unconventionality."