Thousand 

She puts her well worn shoes inside the door
The evening ends as she removes her clothes
Each day is very much like one before
Mundane her life she might say I suppose
But once she was a proud princess of punk
Existing like a threat to status quo
And then the years addicted to the junk
A thousand men have paid to come and go
With every touch a smearing of the pride
A panting pawing always wanting more
Until they’re nothing reaching deep inside
Reflected in the eyes she sees a whore
Society so harsh when women fall
The thousand men who aren’t responsible

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Aide Mémoire 

When I was lost
I plundered your soul
For all you had there
Wiped clean
But you
Keeper of every scrap and fragment
My mind was saved with yours
By yours
When I was lost
You saved my loss
My loss is yours

So Far

I never really had the time to think
The day the week the month became a year
I found myself alone and on the brink
The man who wanted home no longer here
It’s hard to differentiate in time
The pressure cooker offers no release
I wondered when the end of days will chime
The ticking of the bomb might never cease
But on the edge I chose to not
turn back
The pressure dropped and I was falling free
I liked the landing off the beaten track
A chance to work out who I’d like to be
With time to kill a journey of my own
So far from here and very far from home

The Glory

I thought I’d search for paradise with you
I crossed the world but not without a cost
My freedom rich is what I have in lieu
But sharing in the glory has been lost
Alone is only lonely when I think
Of plans that just like us have disappeared
Subtraction still a positive result
An independent star in sky appeared
I wish that all I’d seen I’d seen with you
Reflection of the world upon your face
Alone will always have different view
The missing is uniquely sensing place
The paradise I found was lone star state
The glory only mine to contemplate

Paradise

My life was so material it wasn’t right for me
I cleansed myself and found the joy of truly being free
So here I stand a man with nothing but myself to give
Exhilaration every day makes life so good to live
So each and every human on the planet has a choice
We all have different drivers and we each must find a voice
Diversity means I can be a different man to you
Your values are respected if you value my view too
I hold the hand of fellow man and fill my heart with love
The gentle revolution is like stardust from above
The hopers and the dreamers are creating peace on earth
Utopia is here and now and everyone has worth
And if you don’t believe that what I talk about is true
Then maybe my idea of paradise is not for you

Converse

So loud and garrulous as beer he sups
Torrential flow from mouth a careless spill
So spurious the wisdom found in cups
The swaying phrase of man exuding swill
I wear my tolerance politely thin
And every time his rub is not my way
A pouring out but nothing’s going in
He talks until there’s nothing I can say
The party has a life but soul is dead
My smile has fallen slowly to the floor
Unnoticed like the hanging of my head
So generous he wants to tell me more
I think I’ve had as much as I can take
Tomorrow we will both have heads that ache

On The Bus

The man is sitting crying on the bus
His baggage there beside so neatly packed
So silently and almost without fuss
A slide of tears upon the cheek is tracked
Is he oblivious to those about
Who look and look away and look again
I wish for him to scream or maybe shout
His quiet is acceptance of the pain
And every single person on the bus
Can tell the story when they shed a tear
The human claiming never to have cried
Is someone who has very much to fear
The man his tears dry the moment gone
The bags are always packed he moves along