Willow Walk

cross communication

all of our memories slip out through the net

fearsome grandmothers will not let us hide

the truth is bound up tightly with regret

 

when pain of living has us most upset

then we hear loudest voices that deride

all of  our memories slip out through the net

 

leaving behind just the fury and fret

the shouts of anger and the words that chide

the truth is bound up tightly with regret

 

no matter what the lie or epithet

effects of injury won't be denied

all of our memories slip out through the net

 

so we are trapped knowing we cannot let

our hearts be opened to the other side

the truth is bound up tightly with regret

 

for all we knew still the true course was set

from the beginning by our manic pride

all of our memories slip out through the net

the truth is bound up tightly with regret

 

not worthy of their salt

each walks away from the last awful wreck

convinced that they at least were not at fault

in pain from foot right up to shaking neck

 

one had been certain but now what the heck

the blame is placed on pot or single malt

each walks away from the last awful wreck

 

a little more afraid daring to check

for signs of trauma not wanting to halt

in pain from foot right up to shaking neck

 

but silent refusing to note the beck

of anyone around in fear of assault

each walks away from the last awful wreck

 

stiffly uncertainly just like a mech

robotic being we would not exalt

in pain from foot right up to shaking neck

 

what's visible from up here on the deck

are shaken folk not worthy of their salt

each walks away from the last awful wreck

in pain from foot right up to shaking neck

 

it must be said

none of it matters but it must be said

while we have breath to speak and time to cry

since in the end we can't give in to dread

choice is not easy once we're out of bed

facing the truth and under every eye

none of it matters but it must be said

not just to you but to the ones who sped

away so fast who feared the cloudy sky

since in the end we can't give in to dread

we wait the storm knowing what lies ahead

is no wise worse that what has now gone by

none of it matters but it must be said

in plainest words and set down in black lead

for all to see and for none to deny

since in the end we can't give in to dread

and none can take the duty in our stead

nor be in place when our turn comes to die

none of it matters but it must be said

since in the end we can't give in to dread

the normal decent heart

rage overflows the normal decent heart

breaking  the rule of ordinary mind

to take us right back to a sorry start

 

where we are governed by no common art

of ancient orders that were never kind

rage overflows the normal decent heart

 

once each has learnt that justice will depart

with no conclusion save the one designed

to take us right back to a sorry start

 

ensuring that  all of our limbs will smart

while we'll be stuck more deeply in the bind

rage overflows the normal decent heart

 

while all the  good and kindly fall apart

and the best choices have now been declined

to take us right back to a sorry start

 

where those who gather do not give a fart

for what should matter and the world seems blind

rage overflows the normal decent heart

to take us right back to a sorry start

 

unravelled myth

what's real and true of all the stuff we learn

throughout each life is given extra sheen

by honest labour it will never burn

the deeper vision that permits a turn

towards an understanding of the seen

what's real and true of all the stuff we learn

both in and out of school is the concern

for honest dealing which becomes so keen

by honest labour it will never burn

our hands but lead us rather to discern

the better way by which to intervene

what's real and true of all the stuff we learn

reminds us of the need for what we earn

not just for us but those in the machine

by honest labour it will never burn

the ones who cry and those who only yearn

for what is not and what has never been

what's real and true of all the stuff we learn

by honest labour it will never burn

where light does not reach

there is a corner where light does not reach

even at noontime so we go to hide

away from where the foolish yellers preach

 

some days we dream of lazing on the beach

and waiting for the changing of the tide

there is a corner where light does not reach

 

untouched by hardness of unruly speech

where none can urge and no one can deride

away from where the foolish yellers preach

 

we may be safe from murderer and leech

both from the open blade and from the snide

there is a corner where light does not reach

 

into the silence where there is no screech

of angry voices seeking to divide

away from where the foolish yellers preach

 

we may be sure of what belongs to each

and how we find that only out of pride

there is a corner  where light does not reach

away from where the foolish yellers preach

 

out past the forest

we find no limits on these warming days

when the horizon beckons us to flee

out past the forest deep into the haze

for those indoors whose eyes are all aglaze

with lack of vision there's a thing to see

we find no limits on these warming days

our minds are liberated from the maze

of ordinary tasks we choose to be

out past the forest deep into the haze

where all of life has changed in this new phase

the rules are different both for bird and tree

we find no limits on these warming days

where light and colour mingle in one blaze

while heart and mind in peace have to agree

out past the forest deep into the haze

breaking the silence in melodious phrase

one chant of joy from mountain down to sea

we find no limits on these warming days

out past the forest deep into the haze

our plain duty

observe the future and record the past

that's our plain duty and it is enough

to get us our redemption at long last

we're only part of the supporting cast

whose job it is to murmur words of fluff

observe the future and record the past

while others move about the world so fast

they seem like angels yet we call their bluff

to get us our redemption at long last

our task's not simple though we have been classed

among the lesser folk the job is tough

observe the future and record the past

note who showed fear and who survived the blast

that changed the world write all fear no rebuff

to get us our redemption at long last

though there are horrors we'll not stand aghast

nor yield to silence or fear of the rough

observe the future and record the past

to get us our redemption at long last

blooming jonquils

behind the house we see the jonquils blow

in the mild air when winter seems a lie

it is the time for all good things to grow

outside the breezes do not cease to flow

and clouds are scudding grey across the sky

behind the house we see the jonquils blow

so clearly yellow do those flowers show

they banish dullness and we can descry

it is the time for all good things to grow

life is so eager to get up and go

so energetic it could almost fly

behind the house we see the jonquils blow

returning from their sleep as if they know

we long for colour to delight each eye

it is the time for all good things to grow

in proper order this is nature's show

we only guide it then we smile and sigh

behind the house we see the jonquils blow

it is the time for all good things to grow

answering the tyrant

the thing's the same once you've told the story

putting the planet into normal mode

you've won power but never truly glory

you know it all is just transitory

each of us goes a short way on the road

the thing's the same once you've told the story

whether the ending's peaceful or gory

each must arrive at the one sole abode

you've won power but never truly glory

of no import whether whig or tory

for you the process is in no way slowed

the thing's the same once you've told the story

only message here's memento mori

the human network down to one last node

you've won power but never truly glory

answer now in words that are not hoary

explaining how you cracked the final code

the things the same once you've told the story

you've won power but never truly glory