I want to return to the time of my birth,
The warmth of that small swaddled body,
Hardly recalled but strongly suspected,
Cradled against that comforting *****.

I want to awaken from sleep and discover,
Removed  from all cares and privations,
Myself once more innocent and newly born,
Ill-prepared for the raw sensations.

What has produced this unintended desire
To cast off the trammels of humdrum existence?
To discard the burdensome strain of my thoughts
And regain the chastity of neonatology?

When I suffer the albatross weight of this notion
My mind and my heart  unite in resistance
To the sorrows and remorse of painful
Contrition.  And that’s when I seek  solace

From a retreat to the felicity
Of childlike incorruptibility.
I know there’s no way that it could happen,
But I would love it; I would love it!

It chills my heart; it pains my mind
To learn that one young soul
Has perished in that short sea stretch
From fear to freedom.

“Keep them out” is the hate-filled cry.
“Send them back across the sea,
Or to some equally unsafe nation.”
And, in the meantime, one young soul

Has perished.  He who wanted nothing
But to live a life free from fear.
Who can say?  Perhaps the fates have given him
A better rest than had been promised.

I am so weary of the constant repetition
By the shallow and disreputable folk
Who claim to be our leaders,
Yet unremittingly by tactless talk
Betray the very principles
With which they sought to gain
Our credulous support,
And treat with reprehensible disdain
And superficial jargon
And empty-headed vows
Those principles that leaders of a bygone age
Did fervently espouse.
Where are they now?
Where have they gone?
Please reappear! Come back!
Those rare folk that we could depend upon.

I can sympathize with pain but not with pleasure.
There are those who prefer suffering to sympathy;
Who would exchange solace for sensuality.
It is not my wish to offer them a choice

I seek to bring you comfort;
To bring you to a resting place.
But will I bring solace to myself?
Will I find a refuge?

And if not me, then who?
And if not here, then where?
And if not now, then when?
This is no recipe for scant solace.

This is a mystery that has  me baffled ,
The answer's one I simply cannot see:
If I would be like someone else,
Who would be like me?

I have neither time nor patience
for anyone who lacks the strength of character
to admit blame when they know they are wrong.

Personally I would always
confess my faults immediately,
if I had any!

She played on the strings of my heart.
Was it a melody?
Did it harmonise?
Was it sensual or sensuous?
Who can say; but at the end of the day
It was naught but a vast discord.