the woes
the woes
of the poets did
compound
for there were many woes
around

the woes they couldn't
surmount
woes that stayed on the estate's  
mount

poets tormented by woes
day and night
and there was no respite
for their plight

the woes were never
ending
the woes not ever
suspending

the woes such as
plagiarists
taking works in pilfering
fists

so too the trolls on
patrol
on them no firm
control

woes
woes
woes
besetting
the
poetry
community
woes
woes
woes
permitted
to
act
with
licensed
impunity
woes
woes
woes
of
them
not
much
immunity    
woes
woes
woes

I drink the quickest when I'm alone
Coincidentally that's also when I love the hardest
Wishing you were all here to listen to your hearts and
I still get waves of missing you
when I play songs on the guitar and
nostalgia makes me smile but in the morning my heart will harden

She left me white flowers
on the balcony
on the day she stopped trying
to win my love;

the first time I watched her tail-lights
with a crumb of regret.

Used to leave a loaf of bread
on my doorstep
whenever she could not find me,
drunk, alone;

furious in her offer
of easy company.

She left and in her absence
I found little solace
in the poetry I kept from her.
All these pointless words;

another lover lost to meaning,
another lover lost to impossible

dreams of perfection.
All this time afforded to me
to form my words of purpose
and total inaction.

Don’t hate on me
Play along with me
Write a song for me
Ring a **** for me
True to your nature
Go on an adventure
Got nothing to lose
If it’s love you choose

Below the hanging tree I wept
Remembering the past.
There was a secret I still kept
Or – it kept me aghast.
A secret so ingrained in me,
An ache, a pain so deep,
A nightmare all day long for years
I could not fall asleep.

Beside the hanging tree I crept
My world – a shrunken hiss…
That fateful night I found the cure
Was in the air I kissed.

Beneath the hanging tree I dreamt
Of stranger things to come.
But all my dreams were swiftly swept
With shafts of morning sun.

Behind the hanging tree I stepped
And took the leap of faith.
And now I know you are to come
To this most sacred place.

The memory of ones we lost
Will never fade away
And neither will our love for them –
Not for a single day.

We might seem peaceful, fair enough,
But we have shown our teeth.
When freedom cried and duty called
We chose to clench our fists.

With every step along the way,
With every drop of blood
We learnt there was a price to pay.
We hardened our hearts.

With every cut and every bruise
And every shot we took
Our numbers grew, so long the queues
That everywhere you looked
You’d see the mothers and the sons,
The daughters and the dads,
Their fiery eyes, their daring hearts,
Their disregard for death.

With every blast and every hit
And every shrapnel piece,
The hopes went high, the dreams grew big –
Our dreams of lasting peace.

But first there was a war to win,
An ego to submit,
Old gods to cast aside for good
And fears to defeat.

A score of scores to be paid off,
A destiny to meet,
Old shackles to be shaken off,
A brave new world to greet.

And long and hard the battle went,
The toll is still unknown…
But to this day we reap the fruit
Of seeds of love we’ve sown.
…
And now, around the hanging tree
We join our hands
As we recall what made us free,
What brought peace to our lands.

I smile as I linger on –
A minute, maybe five
As I recall the war we fought,
The sacrifice, the lives.

I weep no more, so wild and free,
And all I ask of thee:
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree?