Myself and Mahler have a common mind,
an overwhelming God that Man can't find.
Thus, in the slow, long beating of our hearts
listeners to the soul can sing their parts,
when, in a mighty chorus, they submerge,
and from the common realms of world diverge.
We cry, whilst hanging from our mortal noose,
'Veni. Veni, creator spiritus

III. Memoriams

Along the walls the rich dead have their names,
some brazen, gilt or carved in polished stone.
Large monuments displaying all their wealth,
which, by their widow's orders were set up,
and are the handiwork of chartered men,
whose many hours of toil have brought this show
and made the lasting icons of the dead.
But on the white stone pillars you will find
the epitaphs of far more poorer folk
who have, by their own slow and humble ways,
etched out the record of their bye-gone days.

I see no ships, 1970


I see no ships.

The wild sea
has stark eyes.
It sees sailors to their graves.

Yet I, a dry vessel,
am wrecked without the wind.
My sails are tattered by different storm.

Standing in the garden
light rain spitting on my face
I puffed a roll-up and thought
my whole life has been a series of days

When I was baby I slept a lot
and then I was awake
I had no idea that I was alive
let alone that life was series of days

As an infant I woke in the morning
and stayed awake all day
till it was time to sleep again
if I was lucky in my way

As a child I knew each day was different
There were good days and there were bad
but most days were just days
when nothing happened.

I became a teenager
and getting through each day
could be a struggle at times.
Some days were milestones along the way.

As an adult I found that I could count
on some days being great,
like the day I got married, the day I started a job
or the day I moved into my first house.

I asked myself: 'how many days I have I been alive?'
Simple: that's just 365 times 67
that's 24,455 as of now.
That's seems like a lot. Wow!

Most are just ordinary days,
average days when little happens
but then there are the big days
the ones I will always remember.

I do not remember the day I was born.
I shall not remember the day that I die.
But in between there are so many
and some I would prefer to forget.

Some I have written down in diaries
others I have photos to remind me.
Some I have souvenirs to keep
and some are vague, mysterious recollections.

Each has a set routine of waking up
doing a lot of things again
that were the same as yesterday
and then something happens...

something big that stands out from all the rest
when life went off on a different path
(sometimes these are some of the best)
and some are just an incredible laugh.

But some are steeped in sadness,
tears, regret, unmet ambitions
lost longings, unrequited desires
and moments of astonishing madness.

But as you draw nearer to death
each day is an astounding success
not just because you are still alive
but because you add it to all the rest.