The ocean in the mind

 I looked out to the docks
Then looked into where things were transported to me
Inside me from off earth
From that far off ocean we call space

Visions started coming on
Each one a screen coming int from the horizon
Moving steadily toward me and then enveloping my sight
Different images of the sea itself appeared to me

Creamy light blue full of little living things
Coming on slowly and gracing my senses
Then a reddish angry color started to appear
Out of nowhere blurry came a charming green

A screen of yellow and blue now bearing down fast
Then a video game screen overwhelmed all sight
 a ninteen eighty atari like game screen the figures barely clear
The picture and the graphics were distorted

So I waited for the next screen
and each one came on in a different color or strange bad graphic videogame
It was as if the ocean in my mind was trying to communicate with me
It was indeed communicating, it was telling me my life story

Limehouse (I the stranger, they the strange)

 I got to the River shore of the town
Organized groups of performers
Dressed in black costumes
Imitating swans

They danced and sang near the wharves
Where the merchants had come off from
The piers and concrete platforms now seemed like stages
Street lamps the same shape and color as the actors
Redundant in the day well lit

Most of the actors were young
Putting their bodies into strange shapes
Calling the out of town tourists to watch
Was I one of these absent minded tourists?

Confused and bemused I looked out
As these little groups of people
Acted out scenarios from their town's distant past
It became expected and lost its mystery until

I spotted a man lying on a park bench
Out of his mind on the poppy juice
Smoking the strange sap without a care in the world
Watching this young man pretend to be a crow

Playing out his struggle to fame infront of this opium addled wretch
Expressing how he'd never made it despite his many skills
The situation unfolded as a drama in the young actor's head
The smack fiend saw the whole thing as a comedy

Life is about failure the smack fiend bellowed laughing
-You are too young to know it through
Tell me your life story in twenty years
Or join me in the golden haze of my oblivion!

I thought to yell out to the constable
But the land was rife with lawlessness
The people focused more on appearances and purchasing
Than building something solid for their future

Stranger on the Thames

 Made my way over the bridge
Thick with people and their carts
Trying to get in and out of the town
to sell their wares or food

Some bringing corn
bread, butter and honey
I tried to move around them
But the bridge was so narrow

I had to wait as they pushed by
Their eyes to the ground placing foot into step
Some looked curiously into my face
Their expression said they would like to know me better

I struggled to push past eventually
After being observed by half the town's peddlers
Off the bridge I went, now close to riverside
Down there were even more merchants

Coming off the ships with their goods
Grinning with morning optimism
Their eyes mesmerized by the sight of London
They thought it was the strangest thing

Resistance is futile said the youth

 The party took place half way between the eastern and western zones of town
On a slope slap bang on the backside of town
Afternoon got drunk and drooped, so the sun slowly makes it's way beyond
Illuminating the party slope under some pretty gnarly rooty ficus

Early evening bares it's teeth greedy hungry for both food and trouble
Chaos ensued beautifully as many late teens lost to the bottle unraveled
Smoking and shouting and fighting on that backside slope of town
There were not enough locals to disperse the rowdy lot

So the party's turmoil brewed a true sense of sporadic havoc
The locals that attempted to break it up got pushed down the slope
Again and again until these old ones just lay at the bottom exhausted
For the young this was as exciting as their lives would ever be

So the local bar and restaurant owners gave up
And just let them self destruct

O mundo perfeito

 O mundo esta perfeito
nada esta pronto
Tudo esta a espera
Teoricamente em andamento

O grande final está por vir
Alcançando sua própria conclusão
não chegou ainda, pois
estamos todos antecipando

Não esta totalmente claro
O que vai vir
O mundo esta tão bonito
Justamente por não ser perfeito

O mundo está lindo
Por que sempre há um problema para resolver
por sempre esta à espera de receber manutenção
O mundo está maravilhoso e completamente inacabado

Not a formal confession

 Tell me your secret
The one you've kept hidden
release it, expose it's sordid core
let it burden you no more

The one that exists behind your face
A piece of you camouflage and in wait
Close to confession I see listeners turn away
But I am here all ears today

You can tell me for I cannot enjoy your shame
I can only enjoy your relief and your next chapter
Truth will change your world not trap you
Yet remain in silence if need be

Don't misplace the idea you had originally
Forgetting will not serve to protect you
Tell me your little secret give me a clue
It shouldn't live in your mind no rent due

You must not confess on wild emotion so unreal
Must not formally deliver and piously kneel
I am a simple man i will listen ears keen
Let those words until the heart if free

The fat of life

 I woke cold
Morning sing to me
Hitting the notes of late dawn
I was that infant again motionless
Seeing out of my bright newborn eyes
Felt the sensation of a determined smile
Spreading across the equator of my chubby face

Matin poking in
Lifted my heavy eyelids
Curtain not pulled across window
What's this my throat makes a gurgle
A weird automatic chest vibrating rattle
Upward surging some form of miracle -a giggle

Light's so creamy here
My eyes adjusting to the shapes
What a dream to be alive in my tiny body
The blankets so warm against my new fresh skin
Existence feels like constant excitement sugar and silk
One question consumes me, where is my milk?