Willow Walk

oratorio

out of the primal light a sort of lie

to comfort hearts and eyes that can't see plain

that healing fire comes swiftly from the sky

 

no time to count the words that have gone by

or say the ocean will return as rain

out of the primal light a sort of lie

 

to take our minds away from the long sigh

of every child at the departing wain

that healing fire comes swiftly from the sky

 

is what we're told though not shown to the eye

it is no matter for our thought's disdain

out of the primal light a sort of lie

 

to ease the soul and make each spirit spy

with passing time and each losing campaign

that healing fire comes swiftly from the sky

 

to seal each bond and sanctify each tie

made in our despite and to ease our pain

out of the primal light a sort of lie

that healing fire comes swiftly from the sky

soul brotherhood

you think the missile is a final threat

a portent of the fire that cannot clean

nor ever leave behind one normal scene

 

since what will happen can't sustain regret

it is the weight of less than a small bean

you think the missile is a final threat

 

to what we are but you won't take the bet

and there's no indication that you're keen

to face the facts you want us to forget

you think the missile is a final threat

last man standing

now we awaken into one more fear

with weight of darkness and the endless sound

of frogs and insects as they still expound

their nightly messages no doubt sincere

at three o'clock though we could never care

about such matters for unholy ground

and chilly water their secrets propound

and somber mysteries move through the air

sleep is no shelter from the stalking ghost

of duty that observes no waiting time

but must alarm us at an early hour

so we discover there is no sure post

on which to rest no guard against the crime

that brought us waking here in fullest power

herdsmen

no need to warn away from the cold rocks

those who believe no purpose can be pure

except our kind those chosen to endure

unlovely meetings of the darker flocks

facing the one who out of anger mocks

informing each that they cannot be sure

but must discover for themselves a cure

with force of tiger and cunning of fox

not in the night but when the sun is low

do the flies gather to consume your heart

just when you need it now you may require

some sort of impulse as a means to show

all who may follow that the form of art

is what survives even the hottest fire

a corner of a field

no hidden meaning in old cannonball

nor in silver quattie lying under grass

i find them and i pick up or i pass

they do not yield their story that is all

any may know today our scope is small

and history is not set under glass

for our perusal life is not a class

since each must fail as the old tree must fall

no wisdom here on this low mountain ridge

just a hard light as we wait for the rain

in patience but without that deeper hope

our fathers taught us we have passed that bridge

and on the other side found just more pain

with endless time longer than any rope

emerging from the earth

all of the colours make a muddy hue

this river flows with little force to sea

just so we find a moment that is true

 

in which each sense will seem so proud and new

that every thought will at one point agree

all of the colours make a muddy hue

 

yet no uncleanness clings nor could accrue

where each of us has shaken ourselves free

just so we find a moment that is true

 

wherein we move from hiding into view

changing the matter by a large degree

all of the colours make a muddy hue

 

obscuring valour but what each one knew

was learnt already upon parents' knee

just so we find a moment that is true

 

between the darkness and the morning blue

and we are happy so we let things be

all of the colours make a muddy hue

just so we find a moment that is true

But, Can They Read?

John Maxwell

Some of the most amazing things happened within the last two weeks. Hundreds of miles above the earth, an obsolete Russian satellite collided over Siberia with an American communication satellite, and the odds against that happening are so astronomic that nobody had bothered to calculate them. So, many of us were more than surprised when we heard a few days later that two nuclear submarines, one British, the other French, had collided deep under the Atlantic That was scary, each sub was armed with enough nuclear warheads to destroy a couple of continents. They were patrolling in stealth mode, trying t ensure that the evil Russians didn't steal a march on the rest of us by destroying Switzerland or the Cayman Islands and thus throwing the world financial system into so much more confusion. Some says the likelihood of these sub colliding was about as great as someone winning the top prize in the same lottery four times in succession. Natural and unnatural phenomena keep defying the odds. The global financial system has vaporised, destroyed by its own greed, criminality and selfishness. Capitalist journalists, conservative politicians and people once considered Gods in Jamaica, like Professor Jeffrey Sachs are busy calling for socialist or proto-socialist solutions to get the world out of the mess we're in. Only in the Caribbean are people unaware of what's happening in the rest of the world. Our politicians, central planners and central bankers, immobilised by the super-glue of globalisation, are still speaking the language of the IMF and World Bank, still calling for the poor to be disciplined so that the rich can generate the kind of profits which once pleased Sandy Weill, David Rockefeller and Richard Fuld. The people who paid a million dollars fora tin of an Italian 'artist's excrement ten years ago may still e in the markets in Jamaica.

left off the map

thought moved to act but we were not well set

in those divisions of a high career

where much that we may want does not appear

in open form instead we have to fret

about the gifts that no good child could get

no options then except the most austere

will be allowed that's all we have to hear

the rest is silence or else is regret

you move your feet in quite another time

to music that no longer speaks of joy

in what we are but of historic pain

recorded as the annals of long crime

the means we find that foulest thieves employ

to loose the goods held on the silver chain

pirate tale

all force of hurricane can do is kill

the life out of your soul remains entire

but what is lacking is the human will

 

from when we started we have run downhill

and every sweet-tongue seems to be a liar

all force of hurricane can do is kill

 

your aching heart and make your anger still

while all around sing loud songs of desire

but what is lacking is the human will

 

to take us up and let us soon fulfill

the many visions to which we aspire

all force of hurricane can do is kill

 

yet all have feared to pay the butcher's bill

though each of us knows no one will enquire

but what is lacking is the human will

 

so we survive the horror and the thrill

by casting innocents into the fire

all force of hurricane can do is kill

but what is lacking is the human will

old man’s game

no need for answers when we know the name

of present monsters that with hunger wait

to seize and rend us swift without debate

 

youths laugh and call this just an old man's game

knowing how easily the jest will grate

no need for answers when we know the name

 

that frightens young and old and soon will tame

the brash to silence now the fool is bait

since he alone steps out and would tempt fate

no need for answers when we know the name