Though love is never perfect
And heartache always so pure
There is always a necessity
To keep on heading out.

Like moths to a flame
Oblivious to reason
Hearts can bind to its heat
And never let go.

It tends to come and so to go
The closer the relations
The more that we can know
Yes the closer the relations
The less we will let go.

Through hatred being despised
By jealous and salacious eyes
That which has no name
Remains until it grows.

It tends to come and so to go
The closer the relations
The more that we can know
Yes the closer the relations
The less we will let go.

But pressure comes to blow the coup
And threatens self destruction
That’s not what is required
To leave alone those relying on.

You, yonder is the answer kept
Within fields of Easter house
Like walls we build around
They break and fall eventually.

It tends to come and so to go
The closer the relations
The more that we can know
Yes the closer the relations
The less we will let go.

Again it is not wrong to love
No matter who provides
Without a surety of profundity
What comes will always go.

And holding hands in final scene
This play we play with, is never over
More questions roll that can be stopped
Where lies the blame no-one knows – do you?

GRUM

Caught in a moment
And you feel the squeeze
Tight around your neck
Like a noose to set you free.

Stand back, take control of yourself
Stand back for a moment
Take control of yourself
In a moment, realise
Realise just who you are.

Tried for a crime you didn’t commit
Paying penance for all the pain
The victim is you but you cry
For your life is about to drop.

Stand back, take control of yourself
Stand back for a moment
Take control of yourself
In a moment, realise
Realise just who you are.

They worded the deed so well
That you signed your own demise
Now paying the price for reprise
You find the luck has run you out.

Stand back, take control of yourself
Stand back for a moment
Take control of yourself
In a moment, realise
Realise just who you are.

This is just a mirror
And I am not your god
You find out far too late
I’m the prophet who never stood.

Stand back, take a look at yourself
In a moment, realise
We are only going away
Take control of yourself, give in
Their only blowing away, away, away.

Felling just like a sentence
We find out where we are
Ties inside this shell
Only wasting away.

Take control of yourself
Your not anyone
Only blowing away, away.

Stand back, take control of yourself
Stand back for a moment
Take control of yourself
In a moment, realise
Realise just who you are.

Did you take control of yourself?

© Elegies

You tell me I am
One hell of a gal
Yet the shadow in your eye
Tells it never was real
The hand in pocket you took from me
The light in destiny for me
Tailor the taker, butcher the maker
What is the answer to 3 + 4
High is the habit, the lock on the door
And closed is the salvette
Laughing at me.

Ha! See the sneer behind a back
Crush goes the sought after scene
Tired and weary what’s in between
Feet on the table hands in the air
Knowledge the natural enemy
Withered by mind not my own
Fighting the settle that holds me down
Seeing the believing, believing its real
What was the question?
Oh yes am I here at all.

Listening to gradations of tears
Experiencing wonder I already knew
This circle of destiny wearing me down
Into the indecisive line
Cashing the chips someone else won
Why is the hatred beckoning me
How can the anger fulfil me
What was the question
I cannot quite recall
Sealed by the kiss, the kiss of death
Open in peril, taste the fantasy
Lost in a mind shattered through.

Wisdom they told me, will win
Violence I knew was the key
But cannot I retreat from the lip
Precipice of treatise I am she
Walking the tightrope from the inside.

Now is the daybreak we waited for
This is the moment to live the life
What was the question??
I do not know.

*for bandnerdtx

I cant see right from wrong anymore
Just changing the channels
Not expecting the lie, so hopeless
That’s what they say, about me I know
But if there’s someone out there
Will they close the door, I cant get out
Stop the draft that’s leading me to cold.

Standing by the speaker
Listening to its every word
Belief is part the hunter
Part the lonely fool.

Giving time to singers lines
About their tales of woe
Feeling good that they have said
Those things we will ignore.

This is a punt, just a punt
Playing righteous heroes
While we lord it over all
Just a punt, punt, punt, punt.

Calling out agreement
We share the sentiment
Sing our song for sixpence
And we can let retire – consciousness.

And fair haired by the door
The watcher stands alone.

Reading stories that only rhyme
Bleeding hearts that never chime
Sensible the sorrow we left upon your door
Now tell we were right, we were right (whispered).

This is a punt, just a punt
Playing righteous heroes
While we lord it over all
Just a punt, punt, punt, punt.

Lost in semiotic paradise
To hide the shattered face
Torn by time the umbilical
Wrested from our grasp.

So we shake our heads
And sup our sins away
Buying out forgiveness
Knowing at least we made a start.

This is a punt, just a punt
Playing righteous heroes
While we lord it over all
Just a punt, punt, punt, punt.

And you see sorrow, in their eyes
But what also feel, in their lives
Pain and hatred, good and bad
All the theory, that you let go
Condemn the condemners, they are just us
We are no heroes and they are no saints.

This is a punt, just a punt
Playing righteous heroes
While we lord it over all
Just a punt, punt, punt, punt.

GRUM

Epicalyx oh so very near
Somewhere near the changeover
Where charades are with us all
Lies the indignant with indigestible shame.

While others melliferous in their toil
Mime to melodic sounds of flitch freshly hewn
There lies the sisyplean unrepentant
Just an undercurrent a susurrate
But nothing to countenance their fears.

Though we may see the lacrimal
Lacteal in its endurance
Its known that opprobrious thoughts
Become expressed in all that’s said.

But unlike the spillikin
They will not bend just break
And timbrels shout the redemption
Of souls never lost in the first place.

Ignoble or not ignis fatuus so be it
Born no effigy, but fit to burn
You may regret the picot tying you
Its too late, too late to save the way
Gone like all the rest
The rime has settled this is home.

So now the spoonbills home to roost
Want their share of what’s to be had
Vacuous of any wherewithal
The wherewithal for you and me
No lariat to tie them down
They make hay while our sun shines.

And effuse the tired old man
His effrontery the joy of age
Buffet and bump the sentiments
But the drudge is harder to cure.

And though we live like hyperboreans
We are no madrigal, this is no disguise
We do not live the pan-mutuel
After all this is the real world – inst it?

GRUM

* I make no apologies for the dense language used – I am angry!

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PAYMENT IS DUE.

When the fighting gets too much
And the voices far too loud
Its time, you know its time
To turn away, close the door
Forget the clock on the wall
Ticking away your life

Here is all the sentiments to fight
The death no death at all to see
Only within does the feeling leave
A hatred for one’s another kind

Peeling off problems they cant stand
To wafers of innocence near by
Left to meet the costs
And plagued by circumstance
They pick up the tab for ignorance

What is to become of better days
If all the greed meets as one
Such a crescendo never to hear
Only silence you get when you have fear

This is all for the love, the love
Don’t tell the weaker to give in
That’s taken for granted a burden shared
Is not a burden halved only doubled

Creating remorse where none should tread
Forcing the wine through unrepentant lips
Watching like the hawk they sit
Pacing back and forth from there
They see unwary would be fools
And pounce like Jeckells and Mr. Hyde’s

Playing like children on strings
You never knew you had
Coughing up you realise
This is one trip always to return

For peace of mind, the still is broken
And any price is low enough to pay
To feel the wind again on brow

Out from under strain
And breathing good clean air
Where are all the pleaders now
Laughing from their gilded cages
At those below and all,
Yes all for the love, the love of money.

GRUM

[viewsurvey]

PARTING TIMES.

These times wont break me
Or give in to a compromise
Yet always so far
These parting times wont break me.

Name of the game is hope
Founded upon hopelessness
Lying in the undergrowth
Waiting for its fatal hour.

Thus becomes second nature
The will to breath the air
Though full of bodies
All alien to the finest scribes.

Down by the shore, is longing
A hope born in new found light
When the clouds part
This must be the parting time.

Clear as the ray, it is seen
Grab, not reject, the decoction
Take it by the hand
And lead the path, not follow
Where were the parting times.

Let me show a face in disguise
And I can see the tear, the pierrots eyes laughing at me
But what do all the necromancers see
Serenading their mistress
On balconies built by conflagration
These are the parting times.

So sees the piper
Tuneful as the nightingales melody
Ha! hides the image within its clothes.

Not for the first time
Nor for the last be assured
Has the reflection been manipulated
Think what was the moral of this song.

GRUM