Singin’ Dylan

he sat upon the museum steps
singing Desolation Row
and all the people passing by
never seemed to know
that he threw them headlong in his words
to make of them a muse
though I believe they didn’t hear
or simply had refused
to see themselves as actors
within his play you know
so on the steps he strummed and sung
of Desolation Row.

Partial Song

I’ve sung these notes before
a thousand different ways
but the music hasn’t moved me
as it did today
It is not quite a different song
nor is the rhythm new
perhaps the melody was wrong
until I sang for you.

Tomorrow

sing a song like Yoko Ono
and dance like Stephen Fry
tell a joke like the next James Bond
for tomorrow you may die, may die
for tomorrow you may die.

drink like The Pope at Easter
eat up your humble pie
then sleep it off on pay TV
for tomorrow you may die, may die
yes tomorrow you may die.

write down your prayers for gods to read
by lamplight in the sky
but implore them not for answers
as tomorrow you may die, may die
yes tomorrow you will die.

It is she

is it she
that births the tears
of joy and pain
is it she
who made the madness
crack my soul again
is it she
who drives the clouds
away from darker days
is it she
who shines like sunlight
into my waiting gaze
is it she
who makes complete
all the parts of me
do I really
need to question
it is she, it is she.

Weather’d Hopes

I sit and sing
to the hickory wind
and play to
an endless sun
in weathered hopes
that both I’ll find
before my days
are done.

Birthing Bees

all Psalms are sung
the dead are gone
and those they left
must carry on
to wring their hands
and cry the tears
but where’s the solace
through the years,
forget the dust
let ashes ease
to greet the sun
and birth the bees.

Always September : An Homage I Meant To Send To Aznavour (but then he died)

the springtime of love
like it’s autumn’s fall
is the same song I sing today
ce une dichotomie ridicule

and we question not
but simply play our parts
in this melodrama’s comedy
That’s written in the scarred hearts
of September.

the passion’s fire
and its dying embers
two acts of the same play
ce une dichotomie ridicule

and we question not
but simply play our parts
in this melodrama’s comedy
That’s written in the scarred hearts
of September….toujours septembre

Ballad

let me sing
a young man’s song
set to a sad guitar
let me sing it
all night long
underneath the stars
let me love
a young man’s love
and write it out in pride
to hold forever
as a rhyme
until my love has died

Simple Song

I watched her reading
something about Marianne
when she was a girl

she looked so pensive
thinking on the little birds
when she was a girl

she sat drinking tea
her face mirrored the noon sun
when she was a girl

I smiled from afar
on seeing her photograph
when she was a girl

Another Simple Song

I made a ship from paper
and set it on the sea
hoping that it sail away
and bring you here to me.

I started painting pictures
in lines and colours traced
to sketch upon the empty page
an image of your face.

I slept to build a dreamscape
bright and gold and new
that sometime in my slumber
I’d make love to you.