It has long been a distant dream
this dream of a roof over his head
he used to sit on the worn down pavement
beneath the monument to some long dead
and long forgotten Monarch
and watch the ones he
called the walking dead
who traipsed along the crowded street
all the weight of their greed in
their shining, well shod, feet
A hand would occasionally
toss a single coin or two
into the guitar case by his side
passing City types would  show derision
their  haughty features could not hide
it is still  a distant dream
this dream of somewhere
to call his home
it haunts him even more
as now through the dark
deserted  streets he roams

He watched her
He knew She was a blank slate
upon which he could write
an easy target to keep fixed in his sight
the bullets of his control hit her one by one by one
until he could see through her to project
the insidious gleam of his dark sun

His control made
a full fathomed mine of her soul
for his mind was the centre of
his self perceived Universe
he enslaved her until
he had stolen all of her self control

She withered until she was a mere husk
her mind dissolved by his poison
until she was nothing
until she was no longer whole

A river moves through me
guiding and shaping the amoeba in me
that rises from the soul's
ebbing and flowing tides of life
making me human

Tears are something that I shed almost every day
looking at the manner in which we treat this world
seeing the awesome beauty in the flower that unfurls
caressing the softness of a beloved Grandson''s curls
Yes, I know that tears are not always of sadness or of gloom
are not always shed in privacy in the night-silent room
for sometimes they are shed in public, and out there,
out in this wide, wide world, this universe we all share
shed for the valiant soldiers who suffer for the fight
shed for the thousands for whom there is no light
shed as an ocean carries its tides that ebb and flow
shed as the rivers and streams upon eternal wandering go
but the saddest tears that anyone, everyone, can shed
are the tears for the ones from whom all hope has sped
tears for the children whose homes are by war torn apart
tears for the ones who hold no love within their hearts
So never tell me that I should not weep, I should not cry
instead, seek in your own hearts, the reason why

I fall
down through the dark mists of grief
it's shadows closing about me
extending my arms to memories
I need now to be corporeal
to hold me close
to stay my fall
to restore all
that is lost
that is past
with no conditions
let me land
on Terra Firma
not on the stormy waves
of heartache

Freedom is not gathering in a public place
rather it is the ability to see the empty soul
behind the politician's public face
to stop our ears to Authority's soft cudgel'd speeches
and how to separate the wheat from the chaff
our bumbling so called leaders feed us every day

You pulse my heart with that smile
shining from the depths of your dark eyes
your touch fills my body with the whisper
of a thousand trembling sighs
This whole world could be filled
with multitudes of angels all
singing in the same sweet voice
but I could not ever find anything more
beautiful than the company of you
in which I still rejoice
There are oceans out there
that I would swim to carry me back to you
there are forests through which I would walk
all through the night and into the
icy coldness of a frosty Winter’s day
white clouds skimming across the Heavens
and blue birds winging on their ceaseless way
yet, all these would be nothing, nothing
if we ceased to continue loving
each other in that same, sweet way