I see no reason now to disguise this naked heart and soul of mine. You can hide there

For those who only know oasis it must be difficult to fathom another way of life beyond the wal… amidst the shifting dunes. Those that follow gypsy trails

I met a man who told me that he’s looking for the way he might become more free, less encumbered in his life. Poor me, poor me, poor me;

I come to the village well today, though without a need to drink. My worldly thirst now quenched, with home and hearth supplied. I am here to fill a deeper vessel

I am awash with tears of mourning for what I thought was dead and go… as though a flood of holy water has broken through the stony dam I contrived to spare this brittle…

A sudden gust of bitter wind from somewhere hot and foul, whooped and howled throughout the scattered waste and scrabble down that God-forsaken alley.

I am seven years old. My brother is ten. The beating was brutal. My brother is recovering conscious… I believed he was dead.

Some time ago, I made my way down to the crossroads, to try my lucky hand at the devil’s gaming tables.

Hello, can you see me here? Please, might you stop awhile. I am the one you pass by daily as you hurry homeward bound. I am that one who’s least of us.

A subtle movement, a facial expression, a particular posture, the constant hint of danger; as if he were here again,

Weep for the fallen warriors. Weep for those souls considered collateral damage. Weep for the profiteers. Weep for the deserters.