I cry for you Argentina
hectic planet’s southern corner
land of passion, crazy arena
aforetime our bonds were stronger.

No longer yours, you never mine
our lives belonged together once
I used to taste your scarlet wine,
your gorgeous girls, your charming dance.

The friends from ages, forgotten stories
so much privation, my heart is sore
my aging parents, the elder brothers
your call is clear I shall wait no more.

Exultant hugs, reunion is great
my parent’s sanctuary regaining life
but there is an end, a settled date
cruel farewell that sticks its knife.

I’ve seen those humid agates before
I've heard how silence can drown the wail
hair-raising feeling on every pore
they'll stand upright, I will be frail.

Oh, childhood playground! my old-time shelter
long time impeded of children laughing
no words no tears, this way is better
my love, my kids, my home are waiting.

About a mile out of town
Past the village in the mist
Sits a tiny Country Church
Not found on any list

It's for Catholic and Baptist
It's for Protestant and Jew
It's doors are always open
This church is here for you

The town is near two hundred
The Church a few years more
There are tales about this building
That are part of local lore

The church is small in stature
But large in who it serves
It's a place to go and worship
It's a place to calm your nerves

The pews are hard and narrow
Carved by hand you see
One has crumbled through the years
So in all there's thirty three

Seventeen pews on the left side
Sixteen on the right
Hand carved with love by someone
And all are painted white

At Easter and at Christmas
The Church is full as it should be
And as one of those who enter
I say, it's something you should see

The pews seem so much whiter
When the voices sing so loud
If it could be witnessed by it's builders
I know they would be proud

There are carvings in the church pews
Left by many through out time
On the second one in on the left
Is my brothers name and mine

The pews are worn in places
They've supported many souls
Who have come in here for comfort
They have come to be made whole

The one pew that is broken
Was fixed but once more broke
It was decided then to leave it
By the elders, local folk

The minister in charge then
Stood and told those who were there
"To fix what keeps on breaking"
"Wastes time, we could better share"

"Besides, look all around you"
"The pews, there's thirty three"
"To you, it should hold meaning"
"Think hard, and you will see"

"Remember, Christ our Saviour"
"Think of his age on his last day"
"Thirty three, that is the number"
"Now, think on that next time you pray"

"The Church pew that is broken"
"Can't be fixed, so let it be"
"It's as though it was intended"
"To help give strength to you and me"

The Church out in the Country
Will stand longer than me
And will witness many Christmas'
From church pews ...all thirty three.

Your vision was the blend of cultures,
welcoming them onto the progressing lands
as if it was there own.
Your passion of justice extinguished every fire
and your endless kindness
diminished hunger of the starving
and quenched those thirsty.
Your heart was vast
and character so true and principled
that hoped to strengthen and empower the youth
to achieve its best
so your essence carries on
for you have risen to great heights
and news of you have spread.

An autoimmune of a nation,
why are you letting your wrath
stemmed from crisis
burst open like lysosomes?
Why do you digest
yourself and one of your own?
Don't you take pride
when the one who has the same
nation weaved on his skin
uplifts the wavering flag of your land?

Why would you mute
and suppress them
rather than water them,
like the beautiful nature that
blooms from your own ground?
Why would you steal
and harm your brothers and sisters,
letting your mentality succumb
to toxic-narrow confinements?

i live a drowsy city in a drowsy state in a drowsy country in a drowsy continent in a drowsy planet in a drowsy galaxy in a drowsy universe because of my drowsy state of mind