Always Alone

I first awoke in an empty room,
tall ceilinged, still and silent,
blinded by colours, not of this spectrum.
I was alone.

I once gazed cautiously into
life's widening aperture,
tempted by beguiling faces,
offering clues to my existence.

I searched wide for missing words,
in forgotten books, dusty and neglected,
was faith ever melancholy
in it's cinch upon the poor?

I wandered aimlessly into
that field of dreams,
where the lonely abandoned abbey was,
but a distant fading shadow.

My ears vibrated to the whisper of truth,
casting me deaf to life's distractions,
voices, singing, talking, laughing,
in tongues of yore.

In the overgrown garden of enquiring minds,
that I once had tended,
with love and affection.
Again, I was alone.



Capability Red May 2011

Jean-Paul Is Dying

Jean-Paul is dying it said on the news,
the message was brief and designed to confuse.
So, put down your cocktails,
and hide away your guns,
Jean-Paul is dying. Everyone:
Jean-Paul is dying.

Tear drops fall into white wine,
You bite on your glass, the taste is divine.
You cough and you splutter,
spit out the blood.
Then you digest the news and chew on the cud.
Jean-Paul is dying.

The rumbling of the underground keeps you awake,
you count sheep, but they end up on your plate.
The channel is blank,
the interference has gone.
Jean-Paul is dead,
but Jean-Paul lives on.
Jean-Paul is dying.

Wednesday morning, you wake up and read;
Jean-Paul is dying, your mouth is still bleeding.
Another proposal,
yet another conclusion.
But again on the news, always confusion.
Jean-Paul is dying.




Capability Red 1980

Happiness

Happiness was peeping in at my little boy,
chuckling at the Sooty show, totally unaware.
Happiness was accepting that I'd never be rich.
But, that my sweat would make nobody a millionaire.
Happiness was realizing what I believed was right,
and helping others step out of the dark into the light.
Happiness was Diane's long blonde hair,
resting on the black velvet jacket she often used to wear.
Happiness was walking on my own, slowly, in the rain.
Stamping deliberately in puddles, being naughty again.
Happiness was looking back, without fear or remorse,
and gazing into the future, but never plotting a course.
To all the world's peace loving people,
who have no desire for real success.
Let us relay a message of hope,
and share each other's happiness.
Happiness to me is absolutely: Nothing!



Capability Red aprox 1980