it's a strange life some folk live
a strange world they inhabit
me I lie to sit in the quiet
listening out for the occasional soft sound
some folk thrive on arguments
until the fighting begins
me I like to look out the window
hoping to see soft light rain
some folk want excitement
even though it hurts
me I can live fully without doing anything
but enjoying my breaths and sips of water
V1
I sit and watch them play around
laughing and acting like clowns
and yet from nowhere, some way, somehow
a miracle is created
V2
they argue, disagree, get fed up
interrupt each other, d'ya fancy a cup?
there's no way they could be making this up
and yet a miracle's created
CHORUS
when four become one
love's work is done
when four come together
the results
the results last forever
and ever
and ever
and ever (fade away)
V3
they wake up in the morning at different times
yawn their heads off and make up their minds
will they appear and work or leave it behind
and yet the miracle's created
sun is shining
through my window
brightens up the winter sky
it's cold outside there's no denying
but in my heart it's warm and dry
nature blows a fierce wind through me
summer's gone and lost in time
still I stand take the tempest
winter is a friend of mine
winter is a dear old friend
the cold reminds us of the days
when summer sun beams down upon us
so love the snow and love the rays
through the haze
the glimpse of a view
blue like the sky in summer
mirage or real I cannot say
through my dreams
the possibility of truth
grey like the fog
the promise of clearer days
through a life
the realisation of all
a blur of startling colours
reality no more
it's show time
show them what you've got
don't give it a thought
just wow them one more time
it's show time
let it all come out
let it twist and shout
give them a good time
it's all we gotta do
give them something new
get it on the stage
you'll make it all the rage
it's show time
help people dance and sing
and let their voices ring
watch them have a great time
it's showtime
let the words all flow
create it on the go
yes everything is showtime
What am I to say to you
whose fate took you at one moment
from hope to devastation
when my path took me from devastation to joy?
We dwell in the same silence
you who suffer so much
and I who also suffer but from other causes
and still I hope we share love of life
and a sense of its precious nature
and its temporary gift.
This, adapted from a poem I wrote in commemoration
of a Polish family with several children
all of whom died in the labour camp
where my father and his family were imprisoned
the father died too
leaving the mother bereft of all she loved most
When the warm snow fell we all wept
tiny angels, they floated down to us
kissing our eyes
melting on our faces
trickling softly down our cheeks
little tears on soft infant skin
snow is warm to us,
we who are with you
as but angel ghosts
souls rise as one
to meet the comforting clouds
where we thaw
as we await you.
In the test
he got one out of ten
but the one
was the miracle of life.
Having got the one
and the love and care he needed
he attained the other nine.
I paint for you
clumsily
badly some would say
no matter
the colours press onto paper
and dry there
abstract?
impressionist?
no matter
I paint for you
and you
and for me
dried there
colours
on paper
pointless?
meaningless?
no matter
It's for you.
the human world tingles
as it listens to the wild wind outside itself
fears of cold and damp
cause needles and pins
to spread throughout the body.
Everything is calm in the multiverse
but chaotic in the hearts of our wayward species
clumsy looking,
thumbs.
in the wrong position
not lined up alongside
the other fingers
clunky and stubby
lacking elegance.
Of what use are thumbs
say the fingers of the world?
the fingers move
words emerge
thoughts arise
flow commences
life perceived
fingers pause
thoughts dry up
flow freezes
life rises
into sunlight
where clouds linger
until its dark
then fingers drop
softly towards the ground
done
what was needed, done
dusted
done
and dusted
perfection in its own way
perfection in the only way
imperfect as it is
gemlike she appears
then disappears
gem to me
lost to me
gem to me
treasured by me
gemlike
spirit
not material
gem
The circus is in town
the clowns here in force
the showmen show off their muscles
the high wire walkers scare the audience
It's not my circus
I didn't even want them here
The monkeys are running around
seeking attention
Not my monkeys
but they're making the audience
whoop and holler with their antics
the circus will leave town
and we'll clear up the mess
leaving behind nothing but stale memories
all the performers will go back to where they came
all the local adjoiners
will go back to their own shows
the Cadzow Burn will flow as it ever did
and with some luck we can get back to peace and quiet
and a focus on the task at hand
which is to just do what needs done
