Brotherly love

    On a sunny morn, on a summer day,
    I sat and watched the children play.
    Children from here and children from there
    And children from just about everywhere
    All shape and sizes, colours, creeds
    At this young age they are free.

    Free from knowing differences
    Free from having prejudice
    Not knowing colours, creeds, and all,
    Just talk and play at tag and ball.

    Together they stand, but for how long
    Till an outside force shall part them,
    Influences unseen by them at play.
    On that dreadful and frightening day,
    When they see black and yellow and different creeds,
    These children are no longer free.

    Bound are they to despise and hate
    Such is theirs a terrible fate
    But take heed, my friends, and listen close.
    It's not colour or creed that counts the most.

    It is what they do and how they act,
    The example they set and how they live.
    Some are smart, some not so.
    Some are friendly and rich.
    Some are poor and rich.

    Rich in the love of their fellow man.
    This then should you understand:
    Till the day we die and lie in the land,
    And even then brothers we'll be,
    For under our skin, equal are we.

    Even so in this dark world,
    There are a few who heed this word.
    They love each man as a brother,
    Cherish and honor this love for another.

    1963


    Regeneration

    Ah, the year which grows old fast
    With Spring the symbol of its birth,
    With it in bloom of middle age,
    Then Fall which puts you at your prime,
    And Winter being your death.

    What means life to you then?
    With clouds of storms o'er shadowing your head,
    The problems and despairs which affect your being
    Also affect the human temperament.

    Spring comes in all its innocence,
    With budding trees and flowers blooming,
    Always free from problems of older life,
    Then leading into Summer with approaching maturity.

    Ah, that season of the perfect age,
    When happiness abounds, but
    Sharing with it comes despair,
    With that of old age threatening,
    Enjoy it now, for it will not last,
    And no one will remember your past.
    Yes, summer is the time that's best.
    It will soon have gone to rest.

    Now arrives the age of reminiscence,
    When you look back on your past joys.
    You think of all the storms that came,
    Putting sorrows and problems in your path.
    You realize that your time is near,
    With cold blasts of Winter about to come.

    Your time has come, your past is done.
    Yet you know you will come again
    And try to correct your past mistakes.
    You have an advantage I wish I had:
    You know you can relive the past.

    1963


    The Journey

    What are we, and where do we go?
    From birth to death, what is our aim?
    What do we seek, and how do we know
    When we have got what we gained?

    What is it that we want to gain?
    And when we die, what will we have to show?

    Do you do as you want,
    Or as other want you to do?
    Do you follow your own path,
    Or like a lamb, go with the flock?

    When you find what you seek,
    Will you be content?
    Will you feel that your life
    Has been properly spent?

    1963


    life's Purpose

    Why are we what we are?
    Why am I what I am?
    What purpose do we all serve?
    What purpose I have, I'll never know.

    Why do I live from day to day
    When others more important than I die?
    Why then am I here? What end do I serve,
    When from the path of right I have swerved?

    We are what we are,
    And nothing can change us.
    I am what I am,
    And what is that?

    November 1963


    Truth

    What kind of fools are these that wander round,
    Searching for that which is not to be found?
    Across the sea and throughout the land,
    The search for Truth is an ambition grand.

    "For what is Truth?" so one might ask.
    To answer the question is quite a task.
    A million people the same answer could never give
    To this question, which for so long has lived.

    Did not Aristotle and Plato try to find
    The answer to this in their own minds?
    The Chinese could go further back
    To supply an answer which still they lack.

    What of our thinkers of today?
    They have the answers, or so they say.
    Yet how is it that none agree?
    If they had the Truth, then they would see,
    "We hold these truths to be self-evident."
    They aren't complete, but it is clear what is meant.
    People today must be taught the Truth,
    But they can't be forced the way we do.

    1964


    On Being An Example

    We try to teach, but impatient are we.
    When patience is gone, we use our army.
    We show these people our strength and our might,
    But humble peasants are not anxious to fight.

    What they need is food and shelter and clothing,
    Hospitals, schools and a better way to live,
    To see that we believe in ourselves to help, to give,
    To make them better, as we should be.

    As we should be and not as we are,
    As our founding father meant the country to be, not as it is:
    Corruption and greed and killing and strikes,
    Discrimination and internal strife.

    Riots run rampant and people do too.
    Nations watch to see how we behave,
    And in seeing realize we are depraved.
    Do as we say and not as we do
    This is what we preach to others.

    Circa 1964


    Alone

    Oh I'm all alone on a dark, stormy sea,
    All alone without a star to guide me
    No moon, no sun, no land in sight.
    I've done wrong, very little right.

    What have I done to earn this fate?
    Here I'm doomed till very late
    In life, full of torment and full of strife.
    I'm all alone on this dark, cold sea.

    From your distant shore did I leave one day,
    As everyone must do sometime in life.
    Where am I bound? What is my aim?
    Or is it to join mankind in shame?

    Oh all alone am I on this rugged sea.
    Not a bird in the sky do I see
    Days of calm and days of storm,
    Days of cold and days of warmth.

    Is there perhaps someone up above
    Who is directing me with wisdom and love?
    Does this someone for me care?
    Cause I know of no one on this world fair.

    What waits for me over yonder horizon?
    Is it land or just miles of sea?
    Perhaps one day before I die
    I'll find my goal, my destiny.

    Till then, till then all alone am I
    No sun, no moon, no stars in the sky.
    I'm all alone on this dark, stormy sea
    All alone and not even a bird to guide me.

    1964


    Bound

    To be like an eagle flying free
    No chains to hold it down,
    Free to go where it wants,
    Free to do as it pleases,
    Soaring along on life's breeze.

    Where is this freedom for me?
    Free from the chains
    That bind me down?
    Where is this release
    From demands? In death?

    Oh to spread my wings
    And soar up high,
    Striving to find peace,
    Feel my heart sing with freedom,
    Or to dive earthwards in final release.

    There is in me another,
    Striving, fighting for escape
    To be what I should be.
    But what is that?
    Who am I really?

    Circa 1970


    The End

    I feel myself threatened.
    They are all around,
    Like a carcass surrounded.
    The vultures feeding,
    Each getting a piece.

    The urge is there
    To run, to hide, to find
    Find what?
    That which was lost
    Lost when? Eons ago.

    Like a house battered
    By storm after storm,
    Tired timbers unable to stand,
    Waiting for the last wind
    To bring its final collapse.

    Mid 1970s


    Min Docga

    In my younger years I had a friend;
    Thought she'd be with me to the end.
    My dog would travel to and fro
    With me wherever I would go.

    Her name was Tricuspa
    With a patrician look about her.
    She was not purebred,
    Yet definitely not a cur.

    Loyal and trusting, with me always,
    Supporting me in all ways,
    One who would listen and not criticize,
    Never blaming, very wise.

    At night she'd come to me,
    Eyes bright and tail wagging,
    Wanting petting, loving, waiting
    For my hands to pet her and caress her.

    But over the years I would find
    The need to walk out, leaving her behind.
    Then she would to another go
    For petting, loving, and lo.

    One day I discovered,
    To my great surprise,
    That other masters she had a few
    And others' attentions were not new.

    Now after all these years I find
    I can no longer depend on her.
    For when times are rough,
    I fear she will leave me behind.

    And so, not knowing if she'll ever leave
    When my problems burden me,
    I doubt her trust and loyalty.
    Because of others, she must go.

    My dog, my companion, my friend
    Is no longer with me to the end.
    I couldn't destroy her, so I set her free,
    And now she no longer is with me.

    Circa 1973


    The, Fountain

    I had a fountain long ago,
    A beauty to behold.
    So stately it stood,
    Providing me with pleasure.

    And then one morning I awoke
    To find that others their pleasure took
    From my beautiful fountain,
    And so I decided its fateful end.

    Many long hours of pleasure it gave me,
    But the touch of others ruined it.
    It was my life, my soul,
    And now it is gone.

    Circa 1973


    Freedom

    "It's time. It's time," the man did cry,
    "For me, my body, to lay down and die.
    And then at last with my last sigh,
    Freedom, peace will have I."

    April 1984


    A Couplet

    Hear my cry, hear my plea,
    "Give me death or liberty!"

    April 26, 1985


    life I

    Oh world, Oh life,
    What have you done to me?
    Where am I going?
    What lies in store?
    I beg to be free,
    To release the one
    Who lives in me?
    Who wishes to be free
    Free of this body
    That hides another.
    To destroy the body
    Destroys the real me.
    Oh powers that be,
    I need release,
    Release to express,
    To give rein
    To my feelings,
    To my inner self
    That lays trapped.

    Oh world, Oh life,
    What will happen to me?
    What hope is there
    For one who is caged?
    This torment is more
    More than I can bear
    Sometimes despairing,
    Sometimes overwhelming.
    What future is there?
    For one is two,
    Two is one.

    Who controls who?
    Is there hope for us?
    Oh life, what have you given me?
    What fate have you dealt me?
    To whom can I talk?
    There is no one.
    Who knows my torment?
    Who knows me inside?
    To what avail is living
    If living is a prison?
    For one who is two,
    Who am I? Is it me,
    Or the one who yearns
    To be free from inside?

    Oh world, Oh life,
    What lies in store?
    What hope is there?
    There is release in death.
    Is death the answer?
    Is there hope?
    Where are you peace
    Peace of mind,
    Peace of soul,
    Peace of life?
    Is there peace in death?

    April 16, 1984


    life II

    Oh life, what have you given me?
    From whence have I come?
    To where do I go?
    What is my place?
    To what end does my life serve?
    How can I resolve myself?
    These feelings that build,
    That tortures and holds me?
    Trapped, torn, haunted,
    I plunge headlong through life,
    Not seeing the end nor the way,
    Living only from day to day.
    Is my life so worth living
    That I must endure this storm?
    This storm has me tossed.
    It has me torn
    Torn between two lives.
    Is there hope for peace?
    Is there hope for the future?
    Where is life taking me?
    Is all this worth living for?
    Where is there peace for me?
    What is the final answer?
    How long must I live
    Torn between two
    Trying to be one
    One against the other
    Yet both in one,
    Each struggling to rule?
    I am not free.
    These chains drag me down.
    Where is my freedom?
    When will I be free
    Free to be what I really am?
    And what is that?

    April 28, 1984


    On Indifferences

    I look around at the people I see,
    At all the different faces,
    Each in their own world,
    Going wherever they need to be,
    Going through their different paces,

    Each absorbed with their own problems,
    Each indifferent to others,
    Not caring about others,
    Just their own little world.

    People only care about the wrong things:
    Who is saying what about whom,
    Whose spouse is sleeping with another.
    They delight in the suffering of others.

    They don't take time to help.
    They don't want to be involved.
    They don't want commitments.
    They don't want responsibilities.

    "Leave me alone in my little world."
    "Let others make the decisions."
    "Don't hold me responsible."
    They complain but don't act.

    What a world this could be
    If we all could agree
    That we should love one another,
    Treat all like sisters and brothers?

    Help when a person is hurting.
    Take time to listen.
    Support them in their time of need.
    You'll be rewarded for your good deed.

    April 28, 1984


    A Song

    Up in the air, flying along,
    In my heart there's a melody.
    On my lips there's a song:
    Rise up, rise up and see the light.
    Come out of the darkness, out of the night.

    Let love fill your heart.
    Let joy fill your life.
    Get rid of the bitterness
    And get rid of the strife.

    People all over need to learn
    To love and trust each other.
    What a day that would be
    When all are equal and all are free.

    April 28, 1984


    On Flying


    Oh to be free to fly like a bird
    On feathered wings up high,
    To soar on the wind
    To wherever it goes
    From earth to deep-blue sky,

    To slip the bonds of life,
    To live, to be free,
    No chains to bind,
    To experience life,

    To take life and all it has to give,
    To go where desire leads,
    To follow one's impulse,
    To do, to be.

    These chains that bind me,
    I need to shed.

    November 26, 1984


    Ramblings of the Mind

    I, like a lemming be
    Rushing headlong to the sea,
    Uncontrolled going where
    I don't know how will I fare,

    Plagued by choices I have to make,
    I do not know which choice to take.
    Darkness is all I see,
    And all I want is to be.

    Left alone I am tossed
    Like flotsam on the sea,
    Carried hither and yon
    By life's currents.

    Turn my spirit loose.
    Let my spirit be.
    Let it go wherever it please,
    Free of these chains that burden me.

    I want to be where I can be,
    Free from all that's ailing me.
    Is there a place on this earth,
    Or must I wait till after death?

    My life is not my own.
    I am a puppet.
    People tell me do this and that,
    Where to go and what to do.

    Please, oh please, leave me alone.
    I want no part of society.
    I need to be free
    Of your demands.

    To hell with people and their rules
    That have put them in cages just like a zoo.
    I will not, I cannot be bound like them.
    I was born to be free of society.

    Break loose, break out
    And let myself be.
    Break loose, break out
    And just be free.

    This course that is set is taking me
    Where I do not know.
    I feel darkness around me.
    I hear my soul cry out.

    Can anyone hear me?
    Take me away, take me away.
    Can anyone help me?
    Take me away.

    The darkness comes slowly,
    Rising up from the ground,
    Getting higher and higher.
    It surrounds me and covers me.
    It is the darkness of the womb.
    It is the darkness of the tomb.
    It is the darkness of death.
    It is the end.
    It is the beginning.

    April 27, 1985


    The Prisoner

    The mud, the mire, it bogs me down.
    I find that I am losing ground.
    It's so hard to hang on to life
    When I have so much turmoil within.

    Who am I? Where do I go?
    What shape do I take?
    Is there hope? Is there relief
    For these storms of my soul?

    Oh that my soul should find relief,
    To depart the body to go to sleep.
    This body hides the real me,
    But it won't let me go.

    Help me, O world, for I am trapped.
    A prisoner within, I seek release.
    What form will it take?
    How long will it take in coming?

    Come swiftly, O peace.
    Bring peace to my tormented soul.
    I languish in despair
    At life, at the future.

    What does it hold for me,
    This life that lies ahead?
    I look to it with fear.
    I look to it with dread.

    Hear me, jailer; hear my cry.
    Free me soon or we will die.
    End it all; end it now.
    Hear me, jailer; hear my vow.

    April 25, 1985