Oh, love, you are missing today
And, suddenly, everyone knows your name.
Oh, love, do you remember the way
You watched the seasons shift and change?

You're not here today, love
You'll visit and revisit
Yet you refuse to stay
And that's not enough, is it?

"Sweetheart, what have you done to us?"
We sang those words until we couldn't breathe
"Don't lie, I know we're fixing to die,"
And you were first to leave.

Beauty is subjective, but you were universal
Time is unreliable and age is routine
Life is objective and you were unimpressed
So what did you find so unsatisfactory?

"Hallelujah," you sang as you left
Hallelujah, hallelujah, rejoice for death
"Hallelujah," you said no "goodbye"'s
Just, "Hallelujah, hallelujah," until you died.

.

I heard there was a secret chord
And no one on Earth has heard it but you
We listen, watch, and wait for the answer
With our fingers crossed that it's the truth.

That David played to please the Lord
Though you never believed in him at all.
We are the David's playing until we can't
Then resuming at your call.

But you don't really care for music, do you?
In futile, in vain, our stupid efforts.
What song would you like to hear, dear king?
What will make you stay with us?

It goes like this: the minor fall, the major lift
It was set in stone from day one
We should have seen, should have known
That you would, so soon, be gone.

And the baffled King composing Hallelujah
Did you understand our words, our pleas?
Did you think of our cries before you left?
Oh my dearest, bemused, lost, little king.

Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...

.­

The days passed by and you grew weary;
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
So you searched the world helplessly in vain
That life would mean something, anything, for you.

And then came Her, a breath of hope
You saw Her bathing on the roof
You crossed your fingers and prayed to the air
That She was the concrete, unfailing truth.

You followed her with your heart in hand;
Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you.
You knelt by her feet and raised her up
The whole while singing, "Hallelujah."

She held you closer than you'd ever been then
She tied you to the kitchen chair.
And you were content, you were secure
You were so happy to be there.

She stripped you of titles and material things
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
She skinned you completely, down to your soul
And left you liberatingly bare.

She reached inside and wrenched the pain from you
And from your lips, she drew the, "Hallelujah."
You were so completely healed at that moment
How you relapsed, how you slipped away eludes her.

Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...

.
­
Oh, had I seen you slipping
I would've let you know that
Baby, I've been here before;
It's not the place for you to end at.

I would have stressed that you're better
Than this room soaked in the blood of thousands.
I've seen this room, I've walked this floor, you know
You'd be better off far away from it.

I would have explained that you were it.
I'd yet to see color, to live, to trust;
I used to live alone before I knew you-
Then you appeared and left me starstruck.

You were a light, you were a star
You were what I thought didn't exist before
And I've seen your flag on the marble arch
So I'll raise it in your absence; let it soar.

You were hope, dearest wayfarer
Though I know hope never lasts
And love is not a victory march
But I never thought it'd end so fast.

The message isn't an apology
It's not guilt or regret
It's a cold and it's a broken, "Hallelujah,"
That I've not managed to accept yet.

Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...

.
­
You said it once and I heard you clear
"I'm so tired," your eyes were closed
You didn't confide again, but oh,
There was a time when you let me know.

What's behind that small, secretive smile?
What is it you won't let show?
What are you feeling; are you okay?
What's really going on below?

All the things I never asked
For fear that questions would stab you through
I would've been a hiding place for your sorrow
But you never show that to me, do you?

I never knew what was on your mind
You never gave the slightest of clues.
I was more than prepared to give up
But remember when I moved in you?

I saw the pain, I saw the age
I finally felt as though I knew
We flew, I believe, we soared and flew
And the holy dove was moving too.

You were more than a light then
You were the cosmos, you were Earth's deus ex machina
We flew through time faster than we should have
And every breath we drew was, "Hallelujah."

Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...

.

May­be there's a god above
Who was looking down to see you
But if he didn't stop the you from leaving
Then what good can he do?

But all I've ever learned from love
Is that it hurts too much to chase
All I've ever learned from love
Was how to hate; all I' learned

Was how to shoot someone who outdrew you.
I bit at their heels like a rabid dog,
They didn't see the impossible thing you were
Until we reached the epilogue.

And it's not a cry that you hear at night,
That'll convince you to go.
It's not the passing of days and months
That snatched you from home.

It's not somebody who's seen the light
That coerced you away.
It's not the worst of your times
That convinced you not to stay.

It's a cold and it's a broken, "Hallelujah,"
That froze you to your bones.
And by the time heat had come
You were already gone.

Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Ha­llelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah.­..
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...
Hallelujah...

for T.M.R.
our "fellow" southern friend*

the southern way,
she-poet
teaches me
via long distance
breaking of the
braking neural inhibitions of
the loudest silences
that only humans can
mistress

photos, stories,
Facebook posts
how the earth rebirths
taking unasked
unwitting but wisely
both of us
to be refreshed,
so verily
the southern way

sharing worldly  
southern words
betraying a
more than
passing
(how I hate that word)
expertise
in spring colors
glorious to every sense,
best described
as nature's way to humanize what we wordily call
hopeful,
self-betraying herself by the
she -poets
innate
southern ways

calls me
northern boy
in a
true voice,
raconteuring,
quick retorting
always in the midst of
d r a wling stories,
about all crazy frogs
of Columbia County,
jumping multiple courses

all about
she-poets navigating
life erratic,
half ecstatic
yet singularity colored,
characteristic of a  
ninety percent southern
Tennessee whiskey blues

hear clear
she-poets
welcoming swirling
undertow undertones
lying just above the calmest
morning water surface glistening
words betraying nothing,
yet saying
all in
between, in
pauses of
speckling sun drops spectacular

she-poet
has her places
in woods, knolls and
rarely visited mountains
where cold brooks and cold beers
southern sooth
in ways
I will likely,
wanting but unable,
never learn
to hear clear

the southern way
is never flex,
nerve never
never bend, smile,
still fighting
the prior lost cause
ignore the
cracks coverup

until and when
the afternoon sun
ceases to warm
the orchard porch
daylighting no longer
when no one is around
she-poet
weeps out loud alone
in the
southern way

and I,
northern boy,
student witness,
having obtained
a learner's permit
for her teachings
re
the southern wayfaring ways
of living life

weep along side
in my unsatisfactory
northern way,
learning that,
who knew,
tears are also
glue
anywhere

Let us awake from the decay of strategic costumes where the incestuous fragrance of madness permeates golden dreams of eclectic strokes.
Bureaucratic self-enhancement nurtures docile manufacturers of laborious compliance, whilst social conscience plummets to depths of callous and entrepreneurial versatility.
Enduring imitations of an unsatisfactory kind is like pairing mint fondant with rich and savoury gravy which is acquired with strategic dishonesty.
Oh, negligent wakefulness – will we ever arise and discern those lobotomised representatives in this legislative brothel of excessive absurdity?
Shake me at one minute to midnight in the House of Lords.