There’s a tree down the road,
Often caught in the west
Blown east by the west winds.
Blown east by the west winds.
Blown free by the stressed winds

Surely not of anthropogenic
origin.

There was a child down the road.
Blown south by callous winds.
One must mourn one gone.
One must.
Mourn one gone.

Surely of anthropogenic
origin.

There was a wild north wind
Once upon a time.
It seems to have relinquished
It’s domain.
A pastured peace,

Surely of anthropogenic
origin.

Had it been the place in which I was conceived,
Then surely the light would not be relief.
Had it loved the street on which I was born;
From the socket, bones would surely be torn;
From the sockets on which I walk so free;
From Standen street to the timid oak tree.

I’ve known it to follow whichever I roam, from conception to birth to the warm missed tomb.

I hear it
I hear it call
I hear it
I’ve heard it all

I sit, and where’s the sun?
below the grass.
And I rest my head on my jacket,
And below, a stone.
Where is the music the world used to play?
Ears untouched.
Where is the music?
Where has the world,
Theory, sinews, and all
gone.

Foot of stone bore deep into the swell,
cracking upon and destroying.
For soon they who the stone holds
shall fall and be no more.
Stand long, stand tall.

Stand long, do not fall,
For when you do and it is done,
Swells will perforate the stone raw.
And to those born between the stars
Do not long, do not call.

Wallow, pitiful man of the spring and summer
know that the grass still breaths when winter blows
Wallow in your high-way blazed ignorance.
to seek the south when the north disagrees
to seek the south when the north disregards.
To see not the day to come, one must know the day that's past.
And I, pitiful man, crave capital that eludes knows only
this.
Only the blisters born of december.
And so in my stupidity I accept it,
A s th ough it is all that i s.
As though it is all that is.

Draw me crazy,
Shadows of my arms and legs sprawled along the brick.
Drive me home,
Where stone bears no shade nor hope
plays no trick.

Fear swells from oblivion
and to oblivion it falls.
Stepped sturdy from the depths
I So very often call.
Once and then twice and once more
Again.
The toes that once touched will never more
Mend.

And told so was the day, told of the coming dark that greets the end each eve.
Though no eve existed before the change of light to dark,
Nor any sun existed before the dark.
Nor any man before any women.

And so sit solemn, solidarity departs you and
bleeds itself dry in the room down the hall.
And you do not here it’s cry.

"Lovely isn't it?"

                              "The lonely moon lying above the tree line?"

"Yes, but I do not see a lonely moon."

                              "Where is this moon you speak of? I see not company in the forest, nor the bridge to its guarded heaven."

"Perhaps you do not, but can it not be among love if others are not quite about their love for it?"

                              "Can it not be loved and lone all at once?"

"Yes but the moon must not fall into such perpetuations,
We all desire and much more, require its pride and loveliness."

You are a moon my friend, a moon in a night sky.
Know to be loved and alone, and then know to love ones self.

Upon age dragging my soul,
from when i was young i drew myself old;
Though now i am here I miss the trees that once grew home,
the deck, tumbled over
and my feet blistered and burnt

The pains of adventure bore hurt greater than i'd know
for only in todays time am I aware of what was
And I am no longer.
No longer a tree on which we climb,
never to be what I now can only see.

I had my turn and it is passed,
But today is my chance
at what others wanted to last.

The day I saw the sun, the day the world and leaves run and the wind blows
When frost quenches the heat of summer and blooming red of fall
When stone narrows and water runs across the new dawn
That day love is still and quiet I will call
I will stay light and
I will not stay alone.
.
.
.
It was man who hummed the first tune of freedom, green and blue and brown
Who forlorn and broken continued to search the seasons and the soul
Who feared the evil of the rift and the allure of brawn
It was a requiem to the birth of our first role
I will not abandon
I will not contest
.
.
.

I guess it’s so, the rows of streets paved at our feet
Black tar seas, summer’s heat provides the street
The shoe and sun and shallow ***,
Bottles and bottles branding the sill
To help the soul: the full of swill.
Nine and a half sometimes a quarter
Into machines they call a “disorder”.
And to no prevail the summer will hail
A day of peace and a promise of more,
But the day is young and night to old.
And so turn with seared toe and heel
From the papers of tomorrow myself I’ll peel.

I long for the sloping valley, sliding earth free,
For the conquered hill from which is born
            The oak tree.

In all the loveliness the forest presents,
I will observe, quiet, like a servant
            The green tents.

The rain, a lovely song it sings against the leaves;
A drum of nature’s fire,
For which the youth plead.

Treason of the wind is to remain, sand stone and dust
Sand stone and dust is all we’ve tried before,
Before the raining days and blowing toppled sea waves
Tip top above the lot, the lonely man craving the sea
For his house no longer a home has burst the love, the fiery fear
And that is all
We hear
The good quiet and bad blown loud.
Loud and louder.....
Until......
Treason of the wave becomes in itself a love
Of grass and trees, shroud the sun and run, have fun
That itself is love
That is love and the wind and the wave and the tree and love.
I miss the all,
the all of it; I miss her all the most.

Down when and now not tomorrow (though tomorrow will be)
Do not worry today is not the last of its kind;
“It hurts today, and to think, it has hurt before”
“But that’s life”
“The happy in life though, where is it hiding”
“behind the night”
“But is it this night? It must be this night, this moon”
The moon, the moon, no sun, but the quiet light blazing beyond our sight
“This night is something new but will not be different”


Not different

But new

An hour in the grandeur of life
Is relegated to an hour,
It will never be more.
“But I’ve seen so much in this hour,”
But it remained an hour and remains a moment
And remains nothing more.

For the man, passer by, passing by..... passed by and had nothing of your moment
It is only yours, he has nothing of it
It is only yours, so keep it safe.
Not with fear of losing it
No, it is special and it will be lost.
But keep it safe because it is not his.....it is yours.

The days roll by like clouds
Though i cannot touch them, i see them
whisper away.
And with them i fade, steady
Then all at once as the wind paints my mind
grey,
Red and blue, colours of beauty once but gone now.

The water screeches along the shore,
Depths of madness and malice
Are reached, cascading along in a roar
And it continues ever so long,
for the river never ends, only
the light upon which it is seen.

Why do I follow such a thing,
A beast blind and wild as rapids
is my mind,
But i always follow.

And it has begun
The dram and the draas buried
It and all my steps.
For only when my past is suffocated,
Can my future breathe

If I collapse, into dirt
And deep earth, would
Your sun still rise
Or vanish, still and forgotten.
For I am your sun, am I not?
And should my light not be buried with me?
Should ground not extinguish it’s blistering cheer, yes
For This is life and I must not cry,
For my light is not yours, you must find your own.

If I collapse, into dirt
And deep earth, would
Your sun still rise
Or vanish, still and forgotten.

Grip my cry and squeeze tight
Let not the fear escape, nor the fright
And I know I will be blind for a bit,
But see forevermore.
And in this sadness is something close.
I think she’s gone, she’s gone isn’t she.
I wish she would have stayed,
I miss her, god I miss her, god she was it,
In my many fears she never quits.

Maybe I will die today,
Maybe I am dead.
The song of day rattles in my head
As though it is the last
Of many faint tunes
Distant in blankets of snow
And tears ran cold.
And I think I am dead,
Lead me back for I am scared,
I know not where I step,
I know not of myself in this world
It all seems sad,
To wish death at mornings break
And to regret it within nights blinding dark

Blue, my love, why must you disgrace me
The green kisses given feel quite hasty
And rest the worry in your mind
The sun shall drool until gone
As the moon breeds a new lovers dawn.

And my mind is a corpse,
long since buried,
long since rotted.
Within are maggots feasting on my joy,
As the last of my fears fall to dust.

And my mind is a burden,
on which I must walk day in and day out.

The sun lights my sadness, My heart
Is like an early Earth, where no joy is birthed,
Merely consumed by iron flames and gray rock.
From my blankets I turn, to face the Suns smirk,
He knows dew drops and seas of which I’ve yet to dream;
He knows the door I hide behind shall never lock.
And my heart joins me at noon, when gloom of early day
Resides to memory, and only then I see the sky cream,
The grass green, and my tall hope hiding behind the willow tree.

I reach, tall as I am, yet to no success, I am cursed to remain
sad; and once more, as horizon captures the foolish Sun,
Does my heart light my night and from it I can never run.

I will dream of walking to you,
But surely, I would die,
Before my thought caressed your face.
Before they hit the ground,
those tears you cry.

If I were to sprute arms like sprungs
On a fork, I would reach you.
I would teach you about the light
On which I live each day.
The wind would lessen its push like
a waterfall of earth.
And I would remain standing.

Sunlight greased the roads,
Sending shivers across.
Falling behind,
Yet never being caught,
I felt chasing a dream.
Along my vision grew moss,
Along my greed grew rot.

But no matter how much I change,
No matter the words spoken,
I remain a dull root
Paid in loves token.

You are not beautiful, it seems
the world has lied to you.

"And you think the mirror will present beauty to you?"

I know very well it shall not,

for the world has shown me its true cruelty long ago,
I am no longer angry for what I've seen,

it will only haunt me so long as I breath.

"And you breath no longer?"

It is not possible to breath without a face you have removed in
distaste.

One seemed enough to light the world,
But the sundog brought upon two more,
And three was too much.
Love should only be plain if it is spread
too wide.
That cocker spaniel of light snarled
at the stars,
for they only arrived at his leaving.
And he believed in little, unless the moon told him
otherwise,
for the moon never let love be spread too
wide.

Portland stone dreads my feet.
Burrow my fate into you,
Love, for this is love.
Doves groan when caught in havoc
And I fear when stung by manic
Sadness.

Guess the peace of
Dreams;
In death shall he join them.
Among the created sun
And the phony rays.
Among your love my only
One.

Glow green and die bright
Fall through into light.
But don’t cry for it
Has come
It has come
It cries in black of night.

For the seeds of
immortality are
Belief
In the sun
In the moon.

Upon five years passing,
You have grown five years.
And the sun will set,
Just as it rises.
Until it does not.

And perhaps I am the
Sky,
Staying constant
Among the
Setting
Sun,
And the crying
Moon.

Fear of the
Lost moments,
Breeds guilt
Amongst those
Kept.

Those who ruin
The sun,
And the stars,
For others
Are little in life and love.

I’ve lived
I have lived!
But death, she still
Calls.

The parable crying strange
Actions,
Has once more
Grown truth, drunk and in love