I wander now
in the wilderness, in the woods
on deserted paths between villages
greeted by strangers
welcomed by humble folk
but welcomed at no Lord’s castle
rejected by Masters and Authorities
shunned by those in Position, in Step
ostracised and kept in the distance by Establishment

the lonely all-embracing tree
offers me shade
the narrow cave
accepts me in the night
a kind wife and her man
offer me part of the meal
they have prepared for their children

the Order harries me on
I have to keep moving
And nothing in my past
condemns me in the present
nor does it save me

All that I’ve learned
is become my burden
All that I’ve loved
I’ve grown to hate
Of my own life
I’ve made my straitjacket
and in my footsteps you read
The Sutra of the Outsider

once I had a master
whose name lent some dignity and glamour
now I wander
free of institution
free of protocol and guidelines
I am the wandering ronin
nowhere to belong, related to none
and so coming in to freedom

when I was within Order and File And Rank
when I was within Identity and Badge and the Group
I had recognition and complacency
Now I am the ronin with no labels
wandering as I desire
unfettered as the birds of the sky
and as the ocean waves
Now I have no rules to follow, no obligations
just the rhythm of love and justice
Now I see all that I thought was necessary was but a burden;
the price for my place had been my freedom
And now I am the wandering ronin
uninhibited, unconditioned, free
as a sparrow might choose to rest where it pleases

together now
let us sing
the song of inanity
the song of no meaning
it is the song of the no-light
the song of the ludicrous
the ludicrous become meaning
meaning become ludicrous
This become that
That become this
ding! ding! ding! ding!
ping! ping! ping! ping!
everything has penetrated its opposite
and the world become beastly
no beginning, no end
no origins
let us sing now
the world topsy-turvy
the brain in a soup,
the mind’s one word: baa-baa-baa
you sing one line
the other another
and then all together
the song of bad breath and yawns
ding! ding! ding! ding!
ping! ping! ping! ping!
we see King Lear walking
naked in the plains
and we have the Imposter
with his heavy **** on the Throne
which is a Toilet with automated cistern
let us sing then
not then, but now
together now
let us sing
the song of inanity
the song of no meaning
it is the song of the no-light
the song of the ludicrous
the ludicrous become meaning
*ding! ding! ding! ding!
ping! ping! ping! ping!

Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
I can read…donkey as I am,
I can read
Where did I learn to read?
they taught me at home,
they taught me at school
they taught me at the camps and retreats
and at all the Assemblies and Gatherings
and at various Thought Adjustment Programs
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
I can read…donkey as I am,
I can read and I can recite
They trained me well to recite
and to memorize and to regurgitate
and to repeat and repeat and repeat
at the Houses of Prayer
the Holy Ones stood before us
and they trained us, they drilled us
thousands and thousands of us
and millions and millions of us
and through years and years
and centuries and centuries
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw*
No variation, no change, just -
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
I can read, I can recite, I can repeat
they trained us well at Animal Farm –
word for word, repeat and repeat and repeat
and when in doubt, we have our Great Leaders
Pigs for Pigs, Goats for Goats, Turkeys for Turkeys
and Donkeys for Donkeys
who will speak for us
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
I can read, I can recite, I can repeat
so must you, if you should be pure,
if you should be saved
if you should see the Truth
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
I can read, I can recite, I can repeat
*Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw

Woooh* - don’t you think
I’ve made a good catch…
I was waiting for this
You know –  there’ve been many hints…it all started
with him coming to talk about music
and we exchanged songs
and manuscripts – ah, such French songs
with smooth airs and sweetness
the Dutch cannot bring into existence;
and today too he came, as you see him now beside me
and we started with a song book he brought
and he started with a preamble about love and music
and we talked about the lyrics, and we swayed to the tunes,
and he said: “Such a song too, O fair one,
I have written” – and he pulled out this sheet
and he placed it in my hands
and he cooed: “This song is of sweet love –
And your opinion I’d like to know”
O my, my, my….my heart’s beating fast…
he’s written a declaration of love…indeed…
it’s a bad song
but good in intent
…it can be no other way…love…love…he’s declaring his love
for me…I knew…I knew it was coming…
all those hesitations today, and on so many other occasions…
all those sighs, sad faces one day and happy
and light spirit on another…a man of many words on some
and of solemn few several days…I knew…I knew…I knew…
it was coming…and here I am, looking
in suspended time
at the audience
like a Shakespearean maiden, in soliloquy –
certes beautiful, certes smart –
O help me, help me….most distinguished viewers
He’s like a mouse cat in a trap…
*Should I? Should I?

all life rolled by
all that has gone past
I saw you sit on the stone wall by the lake
and I knew – is there any other way? - what you thought about
the betrayal, the snatches of life and luminescence
from the days when you were a girl
the first day you could feel the stirrings;
all passages of life, all conversations and the promise
the pretty things, the art and the ecstasy -
but mainly the betrayal, I know, I could see it in your expression
and the pain of your children,
beings you brought forth into the world
your pain, each one
your joy, each one
and all of the darkness
the rich trees behind you, the rolling hills farther behind
and the lightness, the union of water and blue sky, by your side
but you looking farther, farther than the sky, farther than the clouds
far away, far away into your thoughts, beyond the sun,
beyond where sun can reach
all things rolled by, all life rolled by
all events, every thought -
O all that has gone past
I saw you sit on the stones by the lake
and I knew what you thought about –
how can I not? -
the betrayal, mainly the betrayal, the betrayal…
I saw you, I saw that…
I know, I know…
There can be no forgetting;
There can be no forgiving
I saw you, I saw that…
But all I could do was to walk, to walk away
carry away my false words, carry away my deeds with me…
and leave you to the distance, to the distance
To the darkness, the luminescence, the betrayals…

consider
the field is never always smooth;
there are times that the grass turns brown
and the flowers wilt and their petals
return to the ground
…consider these things…
what was a frolicing maid becomes a hag;
the virulent man shrivels and becomes incapable
and so the sky, never always clear and boundless
and so the clouds, not always childhood pleasantries
but they come into chaos and dreariness
and pile dollops of dark humor
and so our lives,
darlings, O sweet ones -
regard these things well -
and so our lives too pass from radiant days
to gasp below dreary shades
from a happy, happy song to a dirge over the dale –
and not all our rosaries and beads and prayers and faith
nothing will halt, in spite of stories they recite,
nothing will halt the sun and the passage of time
and so like the artist it is best to observe
like the artist in the field
capture the moment, savor the life
and if anything, make of one’s life a beauty
that others may pause to gaze at
as pausing to gaze at a rose, the cherry blossoms…
be you makers of beauty,
darlings, O darlings, consider these things
O sweet ones…