A Stranger's Eyes

I look at China through a stranger's eyes
The train flies by as though all things were new
At random in the fields a grave it lies 
Where bright red flowers stretch to skies of blue.
In San Li Tun we found Mojito Man
For 15RMB thought's drained away
And we sit watching and we understand
That we know nothing but we still obey.
In Qufu women dry their grain on roads
And we eat fish and rice off metal trays
Watch people with their bikes and heavy loads
And sonder floods us in our seperate ways.
And now I read these fragile words and yearn
With all my heart that soon I will return.


To see if it can still be done at all
Or if those years of practice are all done
To see if words will still appear and fall
Into their places gently one by one.
I haven't written these things for so long
I haven't had the time or felt the urge
But now there's something calling and I long
To sit back down and see what will emerge.
I love the form, it's simple three and end
That structure that's so fun to work around
So stiff and yet so good to ply and bend
To work with and to see what can be found.
So all the sonnets written in the past
Are joined by yet another here at last.

52nd Winter

My fifty-second winter approaches
How many more I'll have I do not know,
The cold, on warm, gradually encroaches
And slow the world is covered up in snow.
My body changes every single day,
A little stiffness here and there at times
And potency so slowly ebbs away.
I can no longer run from all my crimes.
I sit and wish that time could just slow down
Or it could speed up and be quickly done
The winter slowly carves my furrowed frown
And slowly takes the memory of the sun.
I pass through chasms lost out in the deep,
And all I really want to do is sleep.

Fall Guys

We are the fall guys come and blow us up,
It's our fault that your countries are at war,
We drink from evil's overflowing cup
And swim in death like shoals of albacore.
We did not protest we just watched TV,
We did not raise our voices and unite,
With you the lost and lonely forced to flee
By our unfettered leader's fearsome bite.
We are the rich our children sleep in beds,
We eat smoked salmon when we have the urge,
And all our media does is fill our heads
With lies that are so difficult to purge.
Forgive us, we are foolish and we fall,
Or better still perhaps just kill us all.


Oh please, please let me sleep
Or I will lose my mind
If soon I do not creep
Into those caverns blind.
Oh let me end today
And bid it leave me well
Please let me drift away
From times in which I dwell
I'd close my eyes and fall
I'd draw my final breath
If I knew none at all
Would grieve for me in death.
These eyes so heavy now,
Please, sleep take them somehow.


She sailed upon the sea as if to say
That man is only human after all
But all of our ambitions sank away
When nature hit her with its icy wall.
Believed to be a ship beyond compare,
You don't need lifeboats if you'll never sink,
But nature showed us that she doesn't care
And that we're not as great as we might think.
So down she went into the icy deep
A slipping hunk of metal in the night
And all the rich and poor that were asleep,
Were woken in the darkness with their fright.
To see we're only humans and we're fools,
If we don't understand that nature rules.

601 (09.02.2016)

And rip them up from this to number one
And rip them up from number one to this
And rip them up till all the ripping's done
And I no longer hear the sonnets hiss.
It's about time that this time's over now
Just slip away and petter out be gone
And let me get my life back now somehow
And stop me leaning fourteen lines  upon.
So hurry, hurry up draw to a close,
And let these moments of my life be past
And I confess I took an over dose
Of one form but I cannot make it last,
It's been alright fun but thank you sonnet friend
I'd thought perhaps that maybe I would end.

600 (08.02.2014)

And with the starting purpose I've lost touch
So now I do not care how well I write
Nor do I really worry very much
Whether I am here and wrong or right.
My motives have been strange but now they're gone
Funny how some lines are so very short
While others they seem to go on and on
Abort! Abort! Abort! Abort! Abort!
At least there's only one more left to go
I long to see the back of all this waste
And go away and do something to show
That I am not an idiot disgrace.
At last to be away from this and done
And rip them up from this to number one.

599 (07.02.2014)

You might as well try and make people smile
But can that best be done in other ways?
At least it all worked for a little while
But then the sonnets went by in a haze
And I had little care and little mind
To make them all as good as they could be
It's not something that I thought I would find
When I wrote down in sonnet number three
That wealth will come to those who nobly serve
For it came not but I kept on and on
Reaping just what each verse did deserve
And some of them were golden and they shone.
But now it's all a little bit too much,
And with the starting purpose I've lost touch.

598 (06.02.2016)

But it's enough with six hundred and one,
And even as I wrote that down my doubt
Came creeping up again before the sun
And questioned why I wanted to get out.
Imagine, said the voices in me, this:
A book called 'Good & Bad' for all to see
One thousand sonnets there to reminisce
All crafted well, as well as well can be.
And what's the point of stopping in three days
There's no point in not seeing things right through
And even though they're not done for little praise
At least each day you create something new.
We're only on the earth a little while,
You might as well try and make people smile.

597 (05.02.2016)

That as I wrote the words I thought I snored!
Now there's a give away like none before
Poets who act like that should be ignored
Or given matching orders to the door.
But really, really, really I don't care
It's been a fun thing that I had to do 
There were some things l was compelled to share
And writings often caused a tear or two.
But now it's winding down at long, long last
But sonnets they will always be my friend
As each day drifted off into the past
From number one until the very end.
A thousand would have been a lot of fun
But it's enough with six hundred and one.

596 (04.02.2016)

Few of my sonnets did not have their flaws,
I hurried many, making bad mistakes
And looked on them as though my daily chores
Or like they were the root of all headaches.
Perhaps it was a sin to force them out
To write a sonnet when not in the mood
But when there were some things to write about
I did not really feel much like a pseud.
Funny though all those months that now have passed
And all the words I've written that are gone
And only very few of them will last
But nothing really lasts when sun is shone.
So I kept going even when so bored
That as I wrote the words I thought I snored.

595 (03.02.2016)

I'd thought that perhaps I would maybe end
This little sonnet sojourn with a crown,
But sadly there are only six to mend
So I don't really want to let them down.
Or maybe I could do it but one more?
And end this fun with six hundred and one,
That might make these few last ones less a chore
And make them feel more complete when they're done.
So that's decided then a crown it is,
And I'll end in a paltry seven days
No longer to claim I'm a sonnet whizz
But that I wrote some and got little praise.
Although at times I did get some applause,
Few of my sonnets did not have their flaws.