A name

returning to a place
I couldn't  name, I couldn't find
I couldn't see, I was blind

returning to the past
couldn't find a laugh
couldn't find my tree
couldn't find the happiness
that once lingered there

tied up in my memories
tied up in my past
where I had to leave
in a thundering blast
last piece of love I ever had

didn't get back in time
to look for those pieces
to claim them as mine
bringing them together again
leaving on my lips a name

they won't say it again
a trail has gone cold
memories have grown old
my tongue has gone lame
a name never spoken again

back to a dream
not even near, not even here
not even in sight, gone from
my  life


(c) JR.

Poor city

poor city has poor people
has no haystack and no needle
poor city's there for the needy
from all over the great land
people come to the city in the
sand

city without a name
crowded in the shade
crowded in the park
city without any larcs
where wooden birds are carved

city without any tears
city without any aim
city without any faith
where poverty's no shame
where pride has no place

poor city has only one kind
poorest people ever come to life
where stealin' is a way of life
where crime's committed in daylight
it's a poor sight here at night


(c) JR.

Cry of a lost hound

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I

can still hear that violin' play

 

it was across the road in the inn's attick is where it stayed

 

had a lonely sound, like the cry of a lost, lost hound

 

it stuck with me a long time

 

actually for more

 

than a while

 

 

 

I

 

travelled along

 

on a road more than long

 

'till at the end of the line I reached my home town

 

with all the pines

 

where  patiently my bride waited for me

 

 

at

 

my wedding night it played for the last

 

time

 

I

 

never heard it again

 

only when my first child came

 

 

its tune now a happy one

 

played at the beginnin' of dawn

 

 

shimmering lights wandered across the fields

 

after that the violin's tune ceased to be,  now an' then I try to whistle it

 

how much I wish, it doesn;t come to me again

 

it must have as I did found a place

 

to

 

live

 

 

(c) JR.  2015

 

 

 

 



Words

 

words

 

have many ways

 

of

 

showin' how they feel

 

once spoken they're not shy of bein' rude

 

or

 

just a lie

 

 

but somewhere along the line

 

they're not satisfied with our yesterday

 

they speak to me about you words I allready knew

 

 

bein' our yesterdays news

 

an'

 

I don't mind your lies

 

'cause

 

nowadays it's all we have, they have no place to hide

 

but

 

when I speak it's for real

 

 

my words show how I feel, no second guesses there

 

 

an'

 

I share them with you

 

you may not like it  but I share with you

 

 

 

the

 

 

truth

 

 

 

(c)  JR.  2017