Wish

I wish there was a way
that I could climb outside my head
and I wish that I would not read
into every word that's said
O I wish I wasn't a wisher
and I wish I knew a way
to pull it all together
to know it'll be okay

I've read the books on Buddha,
The Gita and the Tao
it all makes perfect sense to me
but still I wonder how
to tame my thoughts,
to accept my lot
and not wish it away
the 'what could be's' and reality's
leave my mind in disarray

When imagination wanders
and insecurity sets its trap
you wonder if what's sent your way
just fell into your lap?
Or is there some fated destiny
whose course has long been set?
you question each decision you've made
wonder if them you will regret

Perhaps the day will come my way
when I send caution to the wind
to hell with what they all will say,
their purgatory and sin
and if I end up like Lazarus
with scorched and broken wings
I'll hold on tight to that moment of flight
and I won't regret a thing

I wish there was another way
to live the dreams inside my head
and I wish words that I heard
meant the things they said
O I wish I wasn't a wisher
and I wish I knew a way
to pull it all together
to know it'll be okay

All Passions Subdued


I'd like to believe
there was some sort of fate
heaven for who spreads peace,
hell for those who spread hate
so many bills, now well long over due
to live in a way
with all passions subdued
So focused on living
we've lost how to live
so used to taking
we don't know how to give
time denies freedom
time makes us all old
time makes us all fearful
crushed, so dreams never unfold

I'd like to believe it
but know it's not true
we live in the same world
but I can't be with you
we've established these customs
our old ball and chain
as we dampen the heart
with the juice of the brain
live in self denial
forcing needs to become wants
like Adam and Eve
and the snake with his taunts
we make sense of it all
with senseless old rules
since we only live once
we're left cheated like fools

I'd like to believe
there was some sort of fate
that allowed one to savour
the joys life creates
the beauty of passion
the beauty of who
can still give themselves
free rein to be true
but the denial masks honesty
till we don't know our self
pack it away
on our mind's darkened back shelf
time ticks and torches
yet another day
feted with frustrations,
feeling this way

Byron said "society's
one big flagrant horde,
comprised of two tribes:
the bores and the bored"
we've grown so complacent
scrutiny all that we do
so many philosophies on life
but it seems nothing's new
for we think and we chat
and we talk a good game
but in the end
it's all bloody the same
we've lost our simplicity
and organic way
it tears me apart,
for I too think this way

I'd like to believe
there was some sort of fate
that would figure things out
before life closes the gate
I'd like to believe
that all passion's not lost;
a time where natural beauty
carries not such an exuberant cost.

Foc'sle


Furrows etched deep in my brow
wondering where life takes me now
as I drift from shore to shore
I find strange that which once before
was considered dear and all I had
a fine wine that one day went bad
craving still that sweet satiety taste
of passions that I once embraced
for now it seems my race is run
and ragged, I feel like I'm done
at each turn we play a card
but a gambler's life's so goddamn hard
Ah what, without chance, would life be?
a hopeless road of misery
for hope's the flame we must keep strong
when it's all to shite and all gone wrong
a sense that time cullys is clear
in each day and passing year
so much beauty life can contain
if you can lay down for the pain
and at day's end if you have found
your wavering pegs on solid ground
you know another day is yours
and you've made it safe again to shore
life's but a bauble of toil and cost
yet still we might find what we've lost
re-kindle sparks like beacons glow
transformed to the flame we did dearly know
come live this life and seize this day,
may you find your self along the way
until the deeps take us below
haul away, a-way!

The Old Spinning Ball

I really don't think
I could believe in a God
who made up this world
that's so bloody odd
where brother kills brother
and Mother kills son
those who take power
by pointing a gun

told to have faith
so that it might ease
the heartbreak of people
and of children's disease
this whole spinning ball
in the palm of His hand
and notions that it's all
been put here for man

Now with this ball
life's become a toy
place in the hands
of brash girls and boys
sure the message of "love"
is stated strong
so where in the hell
did it all go so wrong?

I don't deny spirit
nor the divine
but I reject the premise
of any dogmatic line
for there is something special
that flows from the heart
and of this whole
we all are a part

Nature seems harsh,
but Nature's the rule
yet still we're all pissing
in our part of the pool
excuse the bad manners
'til the judgment is done
and only in death
will the promised peace come

dogmatic reason
stems from blind leading truths
indoctrinated on paths
so early in our youths
no questions queried
by Kingdom come
and by the Word
will Thine work be done

no, I really don't think
I could believe in a God
who made up this world
and gave us the job
though there are many
who in Him do trust
we're all bound to ashes
and already dust

but that dust is the base
of the landscape around
it's into everything
as this old ball spins around
no more excuses
for the sins that we've done
the answer for peace
lies inside everyone

the answer for peace
lies inside everyone.

To the End of the World


My flat-cap snugged down upon my head
wind washed cheeks, crackling footfall tread
a tune in my heart, watching dreams unfurl
making my way to the end of the world

Green spaces glisten from tender wept tears
pure in their intentions, irredescent spheres
far beyond me, far beyond home
carried within, wherever I roam

No time to fret nor to regret
or worry for what's not happened yet
not given a thought to where it all leads
though often confused, the wants and the needs

My scarf snugged squarely around my neck
all those moments that my mind wants to protect
a song in my heart, watching dreams unfurl
making my way to the end of the world

Contented

O the sun is setting
now on my youth
it's ideal dreams
and it's search for truth
leaving it all
to where I'm now found
on the pivotal point
between womb and the ground
pray my days are still plenty
before my time is done
and by God I'll live each
as if it were my last one

Don't know where I'm going
but I've made it this far
so to love, peace and pleasure
I'll hoist up my jar
no longer pining or regrets
for that life not chose
through the kicks in the bollocks
and the smells of the rose
to be here is sweet
with music and friends
and when toe taps the bucket
I hope that how it ends
may the road rise to meet us
while we're on our way
and always seize the day

For Me Ma

My name it is Gloria

And my life’s a troubled thing

My husband, he would smack me round

But I still wear his ring

Despite his infidelities, his drink

And shite and lies,

For though long ago he left me

I must consider gossiping eyes

You see, to be a single mother

In these conservative constricted days

Is not a very kindly state

And I must respect our ways

While three of my four babies

To misfortunate death I’ve lost

I can’t afford this shame you see

So I’ll conceal at any cost

Motherhood is trying

And oftentimes I don’t feel well

The resentment, depression and anxiety

In my mind and heart does swell

And when I feel I can take no more

To the point that I might crack

My son suffers the brunt of my pain

With wicked words and with a smack

Sometimes I can not control myself,

The sting in my flailing hand

It falls and falls as if on it’s own and why,

I can not understand

My self-esteem is all but gone

To a guise of dignity

That’s why I cling to my “Mrs.” Name

Though that I’ll never be

By God it’s such a torturous task

To face yet another living day

Resentment murdered all my dreams

And it’s driving my son away

My words are harsh and hurtful

Thinking not of their future price

For all the tolls that time is taking

A baby, another then thrice

And though my pride is all I have

In the only surviving one

I fear that he’ll turn out like me

Never to become someone

I push him hard in his school

Though I, myself, can’t read,

And every time I beat him blue

It’s of want for him to succeed

I know that this is all fucked up

But I’ve nowhere else left to go

It’s so hard to wake each day

And put on this pathetic show

So this is my existence

And my gracious lot

To accept the little that I have

With hopes others don’t talk

All I pray is in the end,

Some God will wait for me

To give me something beyond this bullshit

For the rest of eternity

For my name is Gloria

I’m old, and now I stay

In the house where I was raised,

My son a nation away

I pray now for forgiveness,

And still live with my shame

And still I wear my husband’s ring,

It’s band near worn away.

Edmonton, AB, Canada