zeitgeist

Fear of the Dark

Arising with the moon,
my nocturnal sleeplessness howls and cries,
from forgotten rages, in the labyrinth of time.

I am running in mazes,
to places neither here nor there,
Where can I be?

I search every hollow, each hidden grove,
while gently snoring or humming,
furiously wishful of wakening.

Why such tortured breathing?

The dark side is so empty of these questions,
for all is fear,
Beyond these filled up spaces is a dim light.

A small candle, I cannot curse the darkness anymore!

The crescent of the moon is like a glint in my eye, reflecting, shining at the world, smiling with love, at wonders, now unveiled,waiting for the sun to expose as plenty.

Bringing me to the taste of morning air
A new and sudden calm,
I see the tenderness of faces young and old,
Peace is now, our covering shawl,
and sleep redeems my night.

The Same River.(In the style of Johnny Cash)

I stood in the same river twice.

The first time I tripped and I fell.

Nearly sank all the way down to hell

Dazed and confused I awoke,

Knowing my heart had been broke.

I stood in the same river twice

The second time I swam to the sea

For maybe my heart could be free.

Could I abandon or lose all my fears?

Could such grieving be done without tears?

I stood in the same river thrice

This time I just stood there and stared

At a place I knew she once cared.

Memories of joy turn to pain

I never shall see her again.

Ghosts of her do pass me by,

Like just before sleep with a sigh

Saying “hallo” with a smile

As though mourning had gone out of style.

Paul Anderson May 2007

Now get the poteen down you

When all the world seems like its just like dust
And the trees, they are grey.
Every swan a dying breed
with no one left to play
Accross the brae there stands a yellow card
who looks you in the eye.
Saying I ll be here till your last day
I am going to make you cry

Now there are tears, so many tears
The Preist told me one day,
There are ones of lust
and ones of trust.
They both can be wiped away.
But what leaves, a stain
is the cold night rain
on the road to Crossmaglen.
I was told it was a smuggling town
And there would be a guard
I was glad that day, god!, to miss him by a yard

And if folly was my only sin.
I would give it no more thought,
but what I had was my grannys gin
which nowhere could be bought
And all the world she meant to me
My source of joy and fun.
and if my end becomes very near.
I know where I shall run.

Save the Bees before they disappear off the planet

We are fleas on the back of a dog
And as the dog eats
And as the dog plays
And as the dog barks
We follow willy nilly
Right to the grave

We are butterflies in a hurricane
And as the hurricane swirls
And as the hurricane ravages
And as the hurricane gives havoc
We follow like those chosen to be in a firing squad
to stand against the wall.

We are bees with no hive
And as the hive dies
And as the hive is foreclosed
And as the hive is marooned and made desolate
We follow the mindless
towards the actual point of brain death

Winnie the Pooh died today
Some one had stole his honey brew
Tigger was at war with France
Forgot just how they used to dance
Piglet was doing time
He was the first to turn to crime.
Eyore was never out of his bunk
except when he was selling junk
The owl himself had lost all hope
spend all day just smoking dope
And Cristopher Robin was not to blame
because he thought it was a console game

All the Forest had now gone quiet
No one left to cause a riot
Not a single honey bee
And those now left were out their tree

Postscript.

From Joachim
To David Diop, Lines 1-12

and it is true we are wounded
   at the lowest point of hope
but hope in us has never beaten its wing
it rises on our human horizons
   like a fresh unfolding bud
there lives in us unconquerable hope
   snapping at the heels of freedom
in due course it hunts down the dawn with huge supplies
of stones
against the wall that will crack in the end
for we will not leave the smallest scrap
   to the demons of despair

This is  me flipping out

A little trip in nihilphobia

Return the golden age where aristocrats roamed
the earth in search of lost chivalry
looking down on the monied class
as the rising rich descended.
The ancient greeks and Shakespeare too
resurrected nobility
And not price recommended.

All that glitters not being gold
All those souls that on tinsel sold.
while world poverty witnesses silence.
Here to you a singing bomb
Here to you a freedom loving song
”I am not so innocent”

Trucks and convoys roam the desert
more guns than food
but that dont make the news
Dont want those pacifist views mucking up the airwaves.
Hey lets get in the mood
Robocop is good
Duck, here comes another serial  killer movie

Now for some slick  comedy
Homer strangles Bart
funnier than a fart,
Lets the mass hysteria rip
Just like when it comes to migrant labour.

Every DJ and anchorman is competing with Howard Stern
to gloat at our immunity to human sensitivity

Now here we have a little rap and listen to the words that are by are no means crap.
I am me.
Everybody can see.
And I dig Nirvana more than anyone
and I dont talk to you if you dont like fun.

This is showtime
We ve got money and we have got it good
If you dont understand. Well. You know you should.
Spend a little time in computer land
graphic visuals, you get the better hand.

We are all doing good
with charity
A little bit of hilarity.

Lets sing about love
it sells.
Pay attention to the way it spells
BREAD

All that I want is a little beauty.
Now lets go back to the romantic Keats,
He ’s a lot like Shelley. He is a lot like Yeats
I am here to break every rule
This is the ethos of every fool.

I am making it out now,
away on  the big league
away from the small look up.
The turned over and the rattled,
losers in the small towns.
Those women up to the high dose
And the kid in the padded cells

I am really out there.
You dont need that sympathy in more.
You can walk into a whore house with pride
You dont have to hide

You just need to know the score
It does not matter  anymore.
The books were cooked long before you were born

And dont mess with reality.
It is not everybody’s cup of tea
Unless it is a soap opera.

You test yourself to see if you can stand the pain
Then you do it all over again
And every bloody night
Till all you see is night.
There is no horror that will fright.

It is all empty

You look around for for a little clue
Everybody makes decisions for you.
Everywhere is noise pollution
Demos about all sorts of radiation
Everywhere is light pollution
Sometimes I scream for a night in the police station

All those plastic bars
everybody shows emotional scars
obsessed about the gutter.
Who wants to see the stars?

No to the Mast

Loss and gain
Love and pain
I am roaming these hills
I am roaming these hills
I am roaming these hills
Take my hand
Take my hand
Take my hand before it kills
Before it kills

Truth and dare
Want and care
I am in these fields
I am in these fields
I am in these fields
Walk with me
Walk with me
Walk with me where nothing yields
Where nothing yields

Joys and screams
Fears and dreams
I am on that road
I am on that road
I am on that road
come with me
come with me
come with me
Let the seeds be sowed
Let the seeds be sowed.

Paul Anderson Aug 2007