Beware the modern mindfulness merchants
They miss the mark
They make you meditate on the extreme of existence
Cementing your psychosis

At the end of their day you’ll be far from the middle way
Contemplating waves instead of the sea
Making an inventory of things in a dream
Following their ‘Way’ you will never be free

Holy men, offended
By their fables
Wish to overturn
The temple tables

Sean Hunt  Feb 2017

I am a silly man
I cried an ocean or two
Over you
A phantasm
A mere appearance
In my tiny made-up
Dream world
Of boys and girls

I never did
Understand
How you could
Stand out
In a crowd
Of billions

A mad magnet
Must have made it happen

I exaggerated your importance
In the scheme of 'things'
You were not really
Bigger than the world
You were not really
Divine enough to be
'Mine'
You did not really
Possess magic potions
That could cast a permanent spell
And erase my living hell

A mad magnet
Must have made it happen

Sean Hunt    Feb 2017

Many people knew him
Once upon a time
When he was a little boy
And when he was a man
He used to like his whiskey
And the songs he sang
He used to break the rules
Liked to play the fool

But John is gone,  yes John is gone
John is gone, long gone

Just like the summer
And ground he walked on
Like the sound of his voice
John is gone

He used to live here
And he lived over there
Seems like John lived
Everywhere

When he was a tenor
He sang night and day
If he were still around
I’d sing with him today

But John is gone,  yes John is gone
John is gone, long gone

Was he ever here I wonder
And where did he go
The John that I remember
The John that I know

When I go down to the sea
I can float
On my own
For a while
Like a boat.......
And I can swim around
On the surface
For most of a morning
Like a porpoise
I can dive down deep
For a minute,
Maybe two or three
But I can't live
For very long
In the sea

The land where I can stand
Is meant for me
But whose land?
Will it be?

Who'll let me stand
Who'll let me sit
Who'll let me walk around on it
I can't be
Stuck
In the space
Between countries
I am a refugee
But there's not much difference
Is there
Between you and me
Don't you see

A stranger came
Landing like a fly
Stayed some days
Then didn't want to go away
He thought
This bag
Of bones
And flesh
Was his own
He thought he was home
And didn't seem to know
He'd have to go

To play another part
In another play
In another cabaret



Sean Hunt  Feb  2017

John Jarlath Hunt
Was his name
‘Tis a shame
He was not known
By some of his children
They buried someone else
Another man
With a heart of pure gold
But the John Jarlath I knew
Had a heart
Made of mixed metals
He was a better man
Because at least
He was real

“Very human” was the way
That John Jarleth
Would describe
The men he held
In high esteem
Flaws and all
Taken into account
‘Tis a pity when they
Laid my father in the ground
The words that sounded
All around
Described
A more inhuman man

Sean Hunt

Who? can't get it right, day or night
Who is black who is white
Who is never wrong and always right
Who is it only likes to play
But suffers every night and day
Who is it, thinks that they were born
Who is it feeds their unicorn

Not you, not me
Must be somebody
It's someone that we only find
Looking deep inside a mind
The room inside no one has seen
With a global IMAX screen
The little person in the chair
Sits and stares at light and air
He doesn't understand the 'deal'
He thinks his world is really real

There are no windows to his world
He's every boy, he's every girl
There is no night, there is no day
There is nowhere outside to play

He simply needs to close his eyes
And watch the screen inside his mind
Where he can choose to see
A movie called
....'Perpetual Tranquility'

Sean Hunt