Oh, the wind...

Splendid music in the jelly of the eyes
Autumn taking refuge in the hollow of the ear.
In the chamber of the heart the Spirit flutters by;
Alights, and drums its wings to draw the grey hen near.

Fallen apples soften underneath their trees
Sweet decaying apples draw the wasps around.
Scent of apples, drone of wasps upon the breeze.
The heart, the ear, the eyes are drawn toward the ground.

Oh, the wind sweetens
when over the barley it blows.
And the river deepens
when through the valley it flows.
Could the grave settle our task?
Though the dust and the sand shift
And pass in a stream through an hourglass,
yet a cup at my lips - brims with life,
brims with gifts!

Climbing ivy outstrips the broken wall.
A pike thrashes madly against the tightened line.
The heart seeks for beauty throughout the littered halls
The green blade cracks the tiles and cannot be confined

Magpies scramble to feed behind the plough.
Sparrows and longspurs eat the scattered grain.
In the sods the plough has broken, the seed is cracking now.
The empty creeks and ditches fill with summer rain

Oh, the wind sweetens
when over the barley it blows.
And the river deepens
when through the valley it flows.
Could the grave settle our task?
Though the dust and the sand shift
and pass in a stream through an hourglass,
yet a cup at my lips - brims with life,
brims with gifts!


Music by Anthony Rozankovic
Words by Robert J. Warren
1998

I'm going to the docks

Put the pony out to pasture,
let the dog loose in the town.
Give the baby to the neighbour,
shut the door and nail it down.
Put an old hat on a stick
to keep the crows out of the corn.
Trade in my stylish jacket
for a coat that's slightly worn.

I've only got a spoonful
of the Spirit left in me.
It was chirping just this morning
like a red bird in a tree.
It's not enough to nibble on
until I'm old and grey.
It's just enough to bother me
and make me go away.

I'm going to the docks to watch the ships.
Set my mind at liberty amid the cargo by the slip.
Maybe while I'm there I'll find my nerve and take a trip.
And I'll not be home again - never!
And you'll not see me around - ever!
I'm going to the docks to watch the ships
feel the wind upon my face and the salt upon my lips
I'm going to the docks
I'm going to the docks
I'm going to the docks to watch the ships!

If my lights are on this evening
then you'll know it didn't take.
I bumped into my boss
he said I'd made a big mistake.
I felt my knees go wobbly
at the bottom of the stairs.
The ship sailed from the harbour
and it left me standing there.

It's going to be the one thing
that we'll never talk about.
If you bring it up at supper
I'll most surely throw you out.
Just the sad note in my voice
for lovely women to adore.
A pair of unused boots
upon the doormat on the floor

I'm going to the docks to watch the ships.
Set my mind .......

But if you haven't seen me
and you're sure that I am gone,
then plant a bush of roses near
the porch I sat upon.
Be thankful I got lucky
that I finally got out
I'm seeing what I only
ever used to read about

My mouth is filled with spices
and my heart is full of songs.
I'm wandering through the markets
and I've heard the temple gongs
I'm somewhere up the Ganges
where the river meets the ice.
I'm somewhere in the south of France
Halfway to paradise.

I'm going to the docks to watch the ships.
Set my mind .........


Music by Anthony Rozankovic
Words by Robert J. Warren
1998

Wheels within wheels

Wheels within wheels in a darkened day.
Hands giving birth to their gods of clay.
How do the birds - follow the air?
How does the foal - follow the mare?

Give me some water to wash my hands
Give me something to eat.
Throw out some rope for a drowning man.
Pull him in.
Help him stand.

Covering the road with uncertain strides.
Following the prints
which the breezes hide.
We, the builders,
we, the makers,
we, the lonely,
we, the fakers.

One is a traveler traveling light.
One is a lighthouse piercing the night
One is a woman with two yellow dogs
One is a labourer hauling logs.

When did the waters
depart from their streams?
When did the knowledge
flee from my dreams?
Voices unanswered and images blurred.
Hopes unachievable, passions unstirred.

Climb to a temple without a door.
Darkened mosaic upon the floor.
Do you? I do - me too.
Is it? It is - oh, yes.
Will you? I will - me too.
Can it? It can - oh, yes.

Covering the road with uncertain strides.
Following the prints
which the breezes hide.
We, the builders,
we, the makers,
we, the lonely,
we, the fakers.

One is a doctor and one is a king.
One is a tenor and one cannot sing.
One has no children and one cannot walk.
One is a preacher and one cannot talk.
One is a burden and one pulls her weight,
One is on time and the other is late
One is a fascist and one really cares
One is polite and one merely stares
One is a hunted man
One a corrupted man.
One is a beauty and one is an ugly man
One is a householder,
One is a shanty man.
One is a guesser,
and one is a knowing man.

Wheels within wheels in a darkened day.
Hands giving birth to their gods of clay
How do the birds follow the air?
How does the foal follow the mare?


Music by Anthony Rozankovic
Words by Robert J. Warren
1998

Alone

I see you all alone in a world
you built in wintertime.
A refuge in a frozen land,
a shelter from the gyre,
no one can warm his frozen hands
beside your tiny fire.

I see you all alone in a world
that you have fashioned.
Your spires and your buildings
ring the mountain 'round.
The echoes of your loneliness
throughout the halls resound.
I only pray the winds of God
will tear your buildings down.
down, down, down, down.

I see you all alone in a world
you built from secrets.
Who are you when you're not at home?
Who is your heart's delight?
Where do your dreams transport you?
What are you in the light?

I see you all alone in a world
that you have fashioned.
Your spires and your buildings
ring the mountain 'round.
The echoes of your loneliness
throughout the halls resound.
I only pray the winds of God
will tear your buildings down.
down, down, down, down.

Music by Anthony Rozankovic
Words by Robert J. Warren
1998

Opossum

Opossum hunts throughout the night,
keeps her children from the light.
Long hours dull the sentry's sight.
He falls into his dreams.
Village burns because of him.
Old men sleep out in the wind.
Council will not banish him,
He is a local boy.

One is taken, one is left.
One is filled and one bereft.
Kites and leaves the wind
is blowing over.

Don's a clown in a rodeo.
His payments still have a year to go.
He trips and lets a barrel roll,
He cannot run away.
Brahma bull gives him a toss.
The power in his legs is lost.
His pretty wife she hits the sauce
And finds another man.

One is taken, one is left.
One is filled and one bereft.
Kites and leaves the wind
is blowing over.

A preacher and his paramour
gave their town a little stir.
Mayor shook his head and wondered
what would happen now.
Easter service was still the same.
His ex-wife and her mother came.
No one even called her name
or asked her how she'd been


Music by Anthony Rozankovic
Words by Robert J. Warren
1998

Enough

Listen, wait a minute
I have just one thing to say
And one thing is usually enough.

A single arrow leaves the bow
and flies toward the mark.
A single pair of owl's wings
thunder in the dark.
A single rose the lover picked
while walking in the park.

Enough, enough!
Enough to open doors and close them,
warm the bitter hearts the years have frozen.
Enough to light the way of love
enough to stand my ground
my word to you - a word of love.
And one word is enough.

Please - let's be quiet
we have nothing more to say.
And silence is usually enough.

A silent plant breaks through the soil
and grows strong in the air.
A quiet glance between old friends
is all they need to share.
I reach my hand out in the dark
and feel your heartbeat there.

Enough, enough!
Enough to open doors and close them
warm the bitter hearts the years have frozen.
Enough to light the way of love
enough to stand my ground
Alone with you - a look of love.
Silence is enough

Music by Anthony Rozankovic
Words by Robert J. Warren
1998