the harsh reality

you intentions are honourable
my heart is sinking into the abyss
i may lose you
to the gun
the foreign rain
the blood that spills
for conquest
gain
protecting fellow man
and ideologies
while the bed stays empty
and i can't sleep
or eat

your actions are commendable
i am screaming nightmares
of a folded flag on a coffin
you fly out
in two months
a lifetime must be lived
between us now
and carried with you
how
will you remember
the scent of my hair
if the smoke and guts
numb you dead

your motivation is laudable
my desperation is palpable
the situation is impossible


and the harsh reality is
you will leave
and i will never love like this again
relaxed and free of worry
care
if you return
i won't be able to leave you alone
if the unthinkable occurs
my heart
will stop
with yours

into these hills

as i walk these hills with you
i remember you as small
with a tiny hand
and a curly head
looking out on the world with awe

so full of life
and ready for the puddles
mud
did not deter you
from the laughter
that they brought
me
and you

but as i walk these hills with you
you tower over me now
your dreams need wings
to take you where
i cannot go
and i realise
this will one day soon
be just a memory
and every breath and every step
was all of life to me

but as with migratory birds
i cannot hold you now
your heart is calling
follow the dream
and i must let you go
with a glad wish
and a happy thought
i'll think of you each day

as i walk into these hills alone
your inspiration carries me
aloft
adrift
above
and home

work-a definition

i bring home a pay cheque
but my children miss out on me
this is work

to put a roof over their heads
i have to make enough
to miss out on their growing up

to care for them when i'm away
i have to make enough
to pay someone else
to share in their development
and miss out on it all myself

if only i could turn it on it's head
so nurture could be seen as work
and someone would pay me
to give the special gift
that only i can give to them

then maybe
just maybe
i could give the sort of things
they are now missing out on

the pay cheque would not be
money but the gift to the community
of people who have a deep belonging
and understanding of themselves

this paper pay cheque
is a monument
to an old way of
the value of things
while we all miss out
on what's important

is this work

or subtle cruelty

two of me

there seem to be

two of me

the one who says no
with utter conviction
'cause i know my role
at work
but the other one
finds saying no harder
turns inward and shyer
there's more to be gained
by saying yes
at home

the me away is cool and convincing
sure of what i'm saying
conscious of what i'm doing
i know my place
at work

the other me
is still on the fence
concerned weighing up
all the possible choices
more subtle turns
more considered voices
at home

how would it be if the 'me-s' changed places
would anyone notice
would anyone question
the different responses
and varied directions
it might not be a bad thing

the two of me
may meet
exchange notes
maybe learn something new
and shake hands
in the end

w o r k

willing
occupation
receives
kudos

the dovetail joint

it needs no nail or glue
just slots together
like a lifelong search has found its
other
like discordant matches have all been forsaken
with the dovetail joint no room for air
because it's so close and comfortable
nothing can ever pull it apart
it's so close and comfortable
like something meant to be
it's so close and comfortable
each side clings to the other
for the strength in between

see these hands

See these hands
all wrinkles and veins
feeding and bathing
and washing
and making the meals
that keep you sustained
ironing shirts and making beds
making sure all you need
is ready if and when
you need it.....this is what i do
after i get home from the job
where i get paid
i read somewhere that the world had changed
and all the things i enjoy
are not classed as work
so i have to do more just to earn my way
and get into the rut
on the wheel of everyday
...fortunately i have saved a little back
for myself
so i can still enjoy the little things
like feeding and bathing
washing and making the meals
that keep you sustained
even after i get home
from the job
where i get paid
see these hands
they are well used
and well made
and they will
write their own history
even if the life has been sucked out of me
after i get home
from the job
where i get paid

i love work

the toil and thinking you're getting somewhere
i love work
the friendship the trying to figure out
how to get things done in the best way
i love work
the challenge when you know it won't work out
and you have to think of something new
i love work
the knowing you can give someone that lead
and let them take the shine for once
i love work
the understanding each level's strength
and weakness
i love work
i love
to make it
work

if i could join the circus

if i could join the circus
i would be a clown
wearing heavy make-up
so you couldn't see my frown
making jokes
doing silly pranks
distracting you and myself
and running away

if i could join the circus
i'd be the dancing bear
led around on a fat hemp rope
diamante collar
and silly hat
and caged at all the other times
waiting for someone to
open it up
so i could
run away

if i could join the circus
i would glide on the trapeze
long hair flowing in the air
the crowd would ooh and ahh
wondering whether
you would catch my hands
and swing me towards the bar
you had just left
or let me fall
once landed
i could
run away

if i could join the circus
i wouldn't stay in town
i'd make a scheduled entrance
and know that i was going
so i wouldn't have to worry
about missing you at all
and everything i did would be
running away

if i could join the circus
i would be gone today
be glad i didn't have to
face the fact
that i am on a one way street
just running away

the town of no return

what made me go this far

the calling of the wild

the wanderlust

the pride

i left myself so vulnerable

no way that i could turn back now

from the town of no return



my intentions far too clear

didn't think i'd end up here

in a place with only one main street

and an empty chair

at the table

where i eat

this town of no return



it's no good knowing

that feelings have changed

when no one around you understands

you isolate yourself



it's no good explaining

time and again

when the language you speak

is not in local use



so i'll saddle my horse

when there's change in the air

and head for the tree-lined hills

my stay of execution must be nearly up

in the town of no return



and maybe

i can now move on

somewhere