Somehow everyone will know
years after I have dissipated
that I too ***** this earth
and played a part in the demise
of the world as it had been
since the start of time and history
and that I too created the dearth
of the wholesome things of life
And when all is said and done
there will be nowhere to hide:
the tense clouds I melted into will cry
and I, excess baggage, will be spat out
the stars in the heavens will frown
and I shall weep endless tears
as the annals of the world vilify me
And when all is said and done
this is the one time that the poet
speaks for the quick and the dead

I saw him again today
someone with nothing to say
The open roadsides are his world
Standing under a leafless tree
In his shredded apparel
The sun beat down upon him
Yet he swore not and sweated not
Silent as a watchful sentinel
He scanned the surroundings
Eyes narrow slits like a hooded cobra
He knows no songs and tells no tales
Life is a closed book with his story inside
What juicy morsels might we glean therein?
What cries from broken hearts and what deep sighs might we hear?
I saw him again today
Standing at the traffic circle
Life went on without him
The dignity of his demeanor
Well beyond the reach of any diplomat
The winds and the breezes are his free bath
They carry the scales of his his scent to the ends of the earth
And so he remains free of convention
His own man to the last moan of broken branches
Today he looked up for the first time
And smiled a rusty smile in hues of yellow and brown
Aware there was  another in his universe
Then he spat out his disgust at my priorities
It clung to the dust in a mess of spittle
And I knew I had been exorcised from his world

Wanting something too much
Lands you in something of a bind
When it finally is in your hands
You have no idea what to do with it
Having burned out your verve
In your fire of desire and fantasy

tomorrow to fresh quests true
and old friendships in new hue
did we not walk this road before
and weren't you my companion?

tomorrow on these paved highways
and in dreams where perfection is no myth
we shall indeed awaken once vibrant dreams
from a slumber that almost slew them

tomorrow, old conquests 'neath hissing trees
shall become fresh and new in perpetuity
and we shall see that our fears were imagined
and life itself has clones in excess everywhere

so go softly friend and sometimes look back
there will be many washed in loving tears
and others perusing the sweat of your mind
in a world that needs urgent re-arrangement

this is what sustains us
this is what drives us
this twitch of the eye
this belief in a better day
this pulsating hope that
the one big one is coming

she was once a true love of mine
but i left her to work in an old mine
where i sang my darling clementine
like a demented and forgetful libertine
but life always pays you back in kind
when i came back with those trinkets
she was gone and i was  alone in my old age
love had not waited for this poor thing in wrinkles
chasing time on dimming eyes and dulled memory
too many years too late for the girl who had tried to wait