i wished for a
four octave voice
riches fame
abilities to make my
guitar cry and sing
the words to touch
the whole world
money and a beautiful wife

traded it for my happiness
so where the **** did I end up
on the end of a rubber noose
two ativan
in a
locked hotel bathroom
you never know

what you are trading your
soul for when you deal

with the devil

better check those
wishes

very

very

carefully

Three and four times
Delved down in the mind
Wether their dreams or another's
They did not know for sure

Somewhere in those depths
Of distant realities and mindless dreams
Lies the greatest truth of all
Which is what those beings sought

Once human but no longer
Did they search their dreams
And the dreams of sleeping gods
To secure that ancient knowledge

But the further their sorceries brought them
The madder they became
Until nigh all of them succumbed
To a dark sickness of the mind

Trapped within those lost and sable dreams
Do those inhumans yet remain
Having forgotten the very thing
Their broken minds searched for

Should you encounter one of them
Those ancient weavers of dreams
Be careful that you are not also dragged down
Into that madness along with them

what days are these
when we sit to ponder
lifes big and small mysteries
with tea brewing
in the ***
and biscuits crumbling
in our hands

we sit and watch
the colour leach
from trees
and grass wither
underfoot

we gather
old clothes and blankets
to give to those
whose houses
are sky and ground
whose airconditioning
is frost and wind

we dread the winter's
count and the summers
harvest of those elderly
left frozen and unfound

some lose just little bits
who needs fingers and toes
some lose more and more again
we puase to remind ourselves
a life is a life no matter the choice
of the living....there is a purpose
to be found in each soul set upon
the ground

so we gather small comforts
to be bestowed on those
who live harder and meaner than
ourselves  and then sit in front
of roaring fires and suppose
our good deeds become us

yet we have treated but a symptom
of the cancer that is fed by greed
we have tried to answer need
but while we give a pittance
with one hand, the larger
beings of this land,
take with both, leaving
nothing but grist and sand
and lives with little
have a little less

it is hard to live
on crumbs

harder still
when the
big end
of town
is blind
and numb

to those who
are suffering
they do not see
the social buffering
blinkers their sight
and so continues
the cycle

whilst blankets and swags
and soup kitchens  all help
something more is needed
to bring the homeless, home

the leaves are pretty this year

A bee here
another there
the bee catchers busily chase

enjoy every bit
hit and miss
miss and hit

the urge to live is the sugar
sweetens the grind
keeps death out of mind.

If you keep death in mind
high is the cost
in the momentary dying
life is lost.

The fear of God
is Jesus looking
over your life's chart
and shaking his head

in the mourning June
the children sat  alone with no play toys
or food
the officials rode their
Porches and Rolls to work
spilled secrets out , both sides
their mouths
left and right vomiting,
had no empathy left,
for they were blighted
by wine and skills at lying,
billionaires and tyrants
have that in common,
and so we have evolved?
I think not.