no place to turn

no place to turn

where silence

might be found

no light to burn

where ashes

might be ground

into the embers

of the bonfires

of the insanities

no place to scorn

where rowdiness

abounds

no sire so forlorn

where the doubt

so so stiffly surrounds us

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all that talk

all that talk

of where i failed

and still fail

all that smoke

and mirrors

to contradict the truth

pointing

in at least two directions

to deflect

so anointing

the one who was

appointed

with light

and ludicrous

paranoia

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in st just

in st just

lost

looking for

the artist’s gallery

sat outside

the kings arms

with an old man

who made a living

with his art

sufficient

for food

on the table

and a roof

over their heads

thrown out

of his home

by his father

mother passing

his clothes out of the window

a traveller

throughout  the kingdoms

he was a painter

in the realist

and impressionist styles

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am i losing you

am i losing you

are we losing each other

is the distance between us

too far to bridge

i am fearful

of such a discovery

as I wander in the damp mist

of a Japanese garden

might you have forgotten

how much i need you

how uselessly alone

i will be on my own

it is true even if i say so

that i don’t deserve you

and that you may be happier

if you were without me

then i remember

the good times that we have

how on so so many occasions

we have helped each other smile

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in search of silence

in search of silence

that is in departure

from society

where ones own self is the place

of curious calm

and wild wilful imagination

letting the past be the past

in glorious

flying fast formation

in search of love

that is the engagement

of the other

where both are at the grace

of togetherness

optimistic of advances

let the future be the future

in the beautiful

hands-held hesitations

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