It was within his power
He’d trained for all of this
He had the means to stop it
but watched them die of evil’s kiss

There were no pleas of mercy
“Kill me, I won’t resist”
Shoot me with your gun
beat me with your fist”

The question nagged at him
Were they really wrong?
How could they be so sure
could he ever be that strong?

To stand and witness for a truth
he wasn’t sure he knew
After all, what they said;
just another’s point of view

I saw this angelic little boy
eyes so blue, big head of blond curls,
which he'll probable bemoan in years to come,
gorgeous smile

Here and There

Byron Bay

The use of excellence,
being all in all.
The magic word pitched just so.
The felt voice knowing where and when.
Such confidence!
Things speeding past,
ragtime to future perfect.

Love and loathing in a fraught paradox.
More hoops to jump through.
A list of words wrapped like a tourniquet,
a holding pattern
of deals and ideals.

Randwick

The Pacific hangs like a headline
above
the distant jostle of apartments.

A man began a regiment
of walking down the beach,
another counted grains of sand
and placed them out of reach.

The first continued walking
up and down the shore,
whenever he would raise his head
he'd see and feel much more!

Their differences seem rather stark
each owned moments, equally;
they parted in perspectives
for their own is all they'd see!

One could easily remember
each moment held by hand,
the other's souvenirs were visions
the counter couldn't understand.

If you wanted the jouney
and you wanted the lands.
If you’ve gotten the victory
and you’ve gotten this hand.

If we’ve fallen for shimmer
and we’ve fallen with grace.
If they’ve recalled the winner
and they’ve recalled our race.

If we’ve failed in all eyes
and we’ve failed in our own.
If you’ve succumb to the lies
and you’ve succumb to the drone.

If we’ve become fuel for regret
and we’ve become anchor to ship.
If they’ve caused your forget
and they’ve caused the hypocrite.

The wistful wind
The tide of the trees
The red and gold color of crisp fallen leaves

The vast green floor
And blue tapestries
Blew right through me with the gentle breeze

My peaceful soul
Knows its home
This great rock of which I roam

Killer stole into the room
White shoes and whiter shirt

He carried thoughts of violence
To do a world of hurt

He'd had enough of this patient's noise
Went and donned a good disguise

Stood listening to the silence
With pure malice in his eyes

Couldn't sleep a wink last night
With all the big commotion

Felt his headache pounding
Waves on a stormy ocean

All day today it was the same
Screaming and some curses

Had all of the attention here
Killer couldn't get the nurses

The Light, It sprung up from the Earth
Jetting into space, It's remarkable girth
The children hide in their bunks
Looking through the crack
Beams of light slowly rose,
Gently rose from the line
Its beams-its own spectacle, dancing gracefully
Dancing wistfully
On the Eve of Melancholy

Come away, come away
As I lazily lay
It was the last day in the month of May,
When it said come away, come away

Still I sit, never flit, out of wit
In my chair in the middle of nowhere
To go anywhere, I surely do care
But still I sit there, in the middle of nowhere

What deity is this?
That foregoes the host lost and bleeding
Whose eyes mark the divine tide
Which pulls the storm from its
caribbean cradle
The radiant sun
folds into a dancing sea
As the furied tide sways above the earth