Silence and Understanding

I think that silence knows understanding when it is at peace with itself. But silence does not necessarily know peace, but knows an easier way to peace. So understanding I think can be found within silence, a certain kind of silence. I guess silence has to be manipulated and interpreted, perhaps questioned. Perhaps silence is a suspicious thing.....

A Kind of Suicide

Its like a kind of suicide. You need someone to represent you, one to say the things you wouldn't think, one to act on your behalf, be the bold you, hold your hand for you, make you smile for you. Decide for you, be your guide for you, be the singer that you are, the poet that you could be, helping you to breathe easily without responsibility, live your life for you, by killing the life that is within you, and you are the one with the dagger at your throat.

Does Life Work?

The Strobe puffing its light into the darkness of the room. A world in tears can become a dream, that haunting feeling overwhelmed by fantastical simplicity, the dark colours of life, obscured, life working on the outskirts of its own life, wearing its blinkers, transferring them to me, looking for my innocent embrace, for my niave compliance. Ultimately though, I can only deal in the truth of my mind and heart and I ask 'Does Life Work?'

Hate

If I hate you then I hate a part of life, my life. And if I love you then...... All of heaven breaks loose, the heaven of the most righteous part of me. The heaven of life's love... Our love: Love seems to be the connection between the soul and the creator, the bright and the dark side of me (us). And I don't want to live in a place that doesn't exist, although a place that exists can be surprisingly pleasing and interesting, with you who are my dream. And you don't know who you are and I ask myself should she really be the one? And I tell myself she is who she is and she there in my picture, and I like to gaze upon my picture in her aspect. And when I look at her and find that I want to look at her, I need to know the place that I have for her, that is suitable and appropriate for as regards her, remembering that there is love in friendship and that it needn't be romanticised or sexualised.

The Power of the Lady 1 (or was it 11?

The power of the lady, when she assumes , she can overwhelm, she has no need to touch or even to look. She's been working on her relationship with herself. She is able to create beauty, albeit a very shallow one, but man is frail and so suggestible and will look upon her as she wishes him to.

The Power of the Lady

The Power of the Lady is her personal assumption, she doesn't have to touch or even to look, her strength is in her relationship with herself, she will assume a kind of beauty and attractiveness, even if it is a very shallow one, but man is frail and indeed she knows this and almost loves him in his frailty, in his suggestibility.

(almost) Renata

In the style of an older time
long before I was young
the day unfolds itself
like a morning that't reborn
and in the mist of its mystery
without threat and without home
I see you walking now
and you're walking all alone

I've tried defining the look of you
and the look you've given to me
and what you say in your European way
when the words do not appear
and then you walk out for the world to see
and for a world that has eyes
You are so beautiful inside and out

In the style of an older time
long before I was young
the day unfolds itself
like a morning that't reborn
and in the mist of its mystery
without threat and without home
I see you walking now
and you're walking all alone

I Wonder

I wonder where our love is gone,
must 'this' linger on when its dead and buried
and that summer when the whole world loved,
when it was making love and getting married

I wonder where the summer went
the summer we were in the love we spent
is each one gone away
to where another love
shines on
another summer's day,
I wonder

I wonder where the love is gone
the love that lingered on
through all the ages
and the music
and the words in books
and the soulfull looks that love engages

I wonder where the summer went
the summer we were in the love we spent
is each one gone away
to where another love
shines on
another summer's day,
I wonder

I wonder where the summer went
the summer we were in
that gave us love to share
but it faded
until it was gone
and then when it was gone
was it anywhere

I wonder where the summer went
the summer we were in the love we spent
is each one gone away
to where another love
shines on
another summer's day,
I wonder

Angie, Vincent, the Teddy Bear and Me

The Teddy Bear sat there with me and a bottle of wine
the day it was dying and stars were beginning to shine
the music had died about a quarter to five
there was nothing or nobody looking alive
and the Teddy Bear thought to himself
'what a waste of a day.'

I answered the door to an outgoing girl from abroad
I'd been feeling so low but now my troubles began to unload
I said 'I'm glad you could come, I've been all along,
there are times when I don't feel so good on my own
I hope you stay for a while' and she smiled as I brought in some tea
for Angie and me.

It was coming on twelve when we went up to bed
the Teddy Bear didn't let on what went on in its head
but I was quite sure when she walked through the door
that this would be different from ever before
and with gentle surprise I gazed at the sky in her eyes
when they didn't surmise

It was almost three when she said to me I must be gone
she asked me to show her my love for her in a song
I said 'I'm tired you know, and anyway you've got to go
and love is not an easy thing for me to show
but I'm glad you could come and I hope that I've not done you wrong,
and I'll work on a song.'

The atmosphere thickened and guilt hung itself in the air
I piced up the book that she'd read when she'd sat on the chair
and as I patiently waited for the day to begin
I picked up a pen and started writing
and I dedicate this song to Angie and Vincent Van Gogh
and physical so-called love, that's not nearly enough

Elvis

He was there at the corner, a foreigner
at the wrong side of town,
so quietly singing a country song
he never made a sound
then the crowd heard him singing
and shaking and swinging
he looked just like a dream
that rocked and rolled
full of gospel soul
in the age of Jimmy Dean

Elvis, Elvis
a duck's ass for your hair
was it you were a hound dog
or just a Teddy Bear
Elvis, Elvis
and where you anywhere
and all the love that you gave for free
was it love that didn't care

They really made their mark on you
when you showed them all around
singing your golden rock and roll
with a style that you had found
and then they took you to Hollywood
in the mindless USA
where your innocent heart #
played out its part
for MGM and RCA

Elvis, Elvis
I remember when you died,
some wanted to die with you
but they just died inside for a day or two (maybe a week)
Elvis, Elvis, your money and your fame
cost the life that you bought them with
when life had gone insane

Elvis, Elvis
a duck's ass for your hair
was it you were a hound dog
or just a Teddy Bear?

To Sylvia, for the Breeze and the Wildfire (an extract)

Nine years old and tuned into the sounds of Italia, in the place where Victoriana encompassed a later time. They were all there, the man the woman the girl the boy, and why yes, of course, the razor belt. At times I saw a holy angel in private frustration vowing to leave it all behind, but love was the dam.. It was modern then, it was new, one of the visitors vibrated to the sounds of the sea and one of the visitors guests was none other than Narcissus himself. There was scary laughter concerning me and the Italian prince but I was too young to care, I just flipped the Lira over until the sad news came 'September sees a prince change his tune' I wasn't so much hurt but concerned, I believed now in sharing someone elses wife, I wasn't so innocent after all and I knew it.