No more numbers
These cries into the night
Unheard gunshots
And fatal consequences
That drowned out the light

A mind so broken
Pieces apart on the floor
Another statistic
Lost away
And all we ever do
Is watch the blood poor

Our selves float and drift on

an ocean of memory,
lives that come before us

In the absolute language between
the poem on your lips and
the blue of the wave
you are the music of silence  
only echo of infinity
the unlikely root of words

Doctors see more blood
in sterile rooms
than soldiers do
on broken land.

There is another hole in the old town.

When it rains it will hold water like cold
craters on the moon.Devoid of life now,
each drop will hold the history of years.
Every drop will reflect on scrubbed steps
and drunken Fridays and days off in bed.  

The wind will whistle hit parades over mud.
Grass will pretend it was always here and
cold kids on new bikes never turned out at
Christmas or in new clothes come Whitsun.
Plaques will not record the living or the dead.

There is another hole in the old town.
Shaped like a worn shoe. Hard to fill.


Tony Noon

You're A Flower,
The water you consume in the daytime waiting for the nighttime molding you inside, Thats A flower,

The amount of sun that you get when you're out all alone with your feet in the grass,
Thats A Flower,

From the products you put in your hair to the things that you eat making you look young,
You're A Flower,

Being of light you sustain happiness , Don't surround yourself with negative stems,
Girl you're a flower,

Thats A Flower,
That's A Flower,
You're A Flower,
Girl thats a flower.

We must all be the flower that grows for a new dawn,
For a new country,
For  a new world,
Who cares for greed and money.
We don't need a president,  we don't need capitalism,  the dead leaves that need to be
cut Off , yes indeed.