Some Other Kinds of Poems - Songs by Geoff Davis

Stay Around

Can you lift me from this coldness
This indifference, this distance?
I've hurt too long and hard
And I'm needing your assistance.
Haggling and legal fees,
The chill of bitter memories,
Blackmail, its counterparts,
Memorial to broken hearts.
Can you help me open out again?

Can you take this resignation,
Can you help it gather rust?
Can you show me a different way,
A different world where there is trust?
With cynicism outward bound
Is tenderness what we've both found?
Is it a kind of peace which starts
And says goodbye to frozen hearts?
Can you help me open out again?

Chorus:
Can you lift me, pick me up, dust me down,
dust me down?
Can you take me, give me hope, stay around,
stay around?

Guitar solo

Repeat of Verse One and Chorus



Who Are Your Tears For?

Persuasive and so erudite
You bully in an argument
As worthless as a fistfight,
Catching votes is your intent.
Armed with statistics which
Deceive but never lie
The fixed ideas you ought to ditch
Will once again apply
So who are your tears for now it's over?
For the schizos on the streets
Whom every policy defeats
Who are your tears for now it's over?

Paraphrase and cliche rules
The press must have its say
And language thus the tool of fools
Where truth can't find a way.
You hypnotize with rhetoric
Which reinforces prejudice
The ad campaign is oh so slick
Though substance it will miss.
So who are your tears for now it's over?
Can you hear the thousands sob
Who have also lost a job?
Who are your tears for now it's over?

We must interrupt, assert ourselves so
Cause ours is the view you must know.

Imagination seems to be
An excess of desire
Over one's ability
And so will feed the liar
Who knows not where the secret lies
With his vouchsafed monopoly
On truth and all its alibis
Which smack of slavery.
So who are your tears for now it's over?
For all those you take for fools
Who would question all your rules?
Who are your tears for now it's over?
Who are your tears for now it's over?
Who are your tears for now it's over?
Who are your tears for now it's over?


 


Psychotic's Lament

It seems as though the chips are down
You feel you wear a madman's crown
And all your so-called friends are out of town.
No phone calls or no letters come
And everyone you know looks dumb
Or could it be just you they wish to shun?

Chorus:
And they say you're crazy
Cause you've been away
To a farmyard hazy
So fun to stay.

The lady in the upstairs flat
You wonder what she's staring at
You've never seen a look as strange as that.
And every job that you may seek
You've been refused before you speak
Your history has branded you as weak.

Chorus

Instrumental and chorus

So ostracized you may be sore
As each one drops the mask he wore
The pose of being friendly and mature.
And then you find someone like you
Whose misconceptions are as few
You know your world of dream is largely through.

Chorus three times





Carrie's Song

You talk as though nobody could
need somebody like you
Why is it not understood
that some of us can see
Potentiality
Heart and affection
Giving kindness some direction
Let it show and you'll know
who loves you.

You're looking to a stranger
who one day will entrance you
But remember the danger
of the devil you don't know
Who won't let you grow
Friends maybe see there
The you who wants to be there
Let it show and you'll know
who loves you

I've always felt that you were one
who had lots going for you
When all the tears and brooding's done
you sparkle and you glow
And then I find you so
So much fun to be with
And it's something I agree with
Let it show and you'll know
who loves you

Now I cannot deny
that you do something for me
Sometimes I wonder why
you back off like you do
When I aspire to
Strength and understanding
Without being too demanding
Let it show and you'll know
who loves you





Message From The Other Side

It's so sad when you act and play the fool
The thoughtless and unconscious things you do which are so cruel
It's so sad when you act and play the fool

It's so sad when you cause another pain
Through agitated feelings which you sometimes must restrain
It's so sad when you cause another pain

Chorus:
Can you find yourself forgiving me?
Can you see just who I am?
What moves and what inspires me,
Please look at if you can

It's so sad when there's someone turns away
Because of all those crazy things you didn't have to say
It's so sad when there's someone turns away

It's so sad when you're reaching out to touch
But can't give unconditionally you find you ask too much
It's so sad when you're reaching out to touch.

Chorus

Instrumental break

Chorus





Somebody's Leaving

All that irritation is looking for release
So the fooling and the teasing, maybe it has to cease
Well, light-hearted banter is fair enough I know
But offending sensibilities, that's what has to go

Chorus:
And now somebody's leaving
Who has sometimes done us proud
So cry a little, yes, cry a little
Some tears they are allowed.

We have to remember not to give what we can't take
And not push some poor child to the point where they will break
And if we're friends together we can rise above in trust
And show the force of friendship means we're here in more than dust

Chorus

Some things can't be forgotten but are maybe best ignored
If we hammer vulnerability calamity is assured
So maybe we'll remember more the content of the heart
Where it's pure and open is the point where we should start

Chorus




If You Need A Friend

It's so hard to trust, so hard to trust
We scrutinise intentions, is it tenderness or lust
It's so hard to know, so hard to know
If someone's caring spirit is a pose about to go

Chorus:
But if you need a friend
Who'll make you feel at ease
I'll talk and share a coffee with you
Any time you please
If you need a friend
Who doesn't want to take
I'll always do my best to soothe
Wherever you may ache.

It's so hard to break, so hard to break
Away from those who've hurt us with our foolish pride at stake
It's so hard to see, so hard to see
How feelings are ephemeral and they feed our vanity

Chorus

It's so hard to win, so hard to win
When we've let somebody get right under our skin
It's so hard to let, so hard to let
Go of something precious which we never could forget.

Chorus




The Eagle And The Scorpion

The eagle and the scorpion
comes out to share a drink
Her teasing eyes maybe don't see
as much as she might think
The yin and yang are muddled
but they're sure to balance out
We have to savour what
so many others are without.

Chorus:
So look at the way through
the hills and the valleys
The open roads and
the concealed alleys
And listen to the voice
which hails from within
Cause God knows you can win.


A smile so slight and yet so sweet
may hint at what she knows
Her guarded sensibility
occasionally shows
But now is all there is so now
we might as well relax
And deal the joker and the ace
from our respective packs.

Chorus

The whisky and the dry white wine
were speaking at the time
Discussing the significance
of the number nine
But still it seems there's such a large
and unexplored domain
The joy is in the gathering of
the harvest from the grain

Chorus





All lyrics © Geoff Davis

There Is A Gentleness/C'è una gentilezza

<sup>There Is A Gentleness

There is a gentleness
Which is neither soft nor sweet
But emanates from strength.

There is a gentleness
Which stills the storms and violence,
The anger and the lashing out,
The search for scapegoats and excuses.
And when the all familiar folly
Shapes to repeat

There is a gentleness
Which silences the neurotic
And silences the lout.
Even if in some strange context
They both can have their uses.

There is a gentleness
Which works from inner silence,
Soothing and hypnotic,
The inner chattering falls away
And then

There is a gentleness
Which is reflective in the face of loss,
Allows a real Conscience
To speak.
It is only when violence and frustration
Come into play
Again
That I should ask myself
"Why am I so weak?"

© Geoff Davis 2004




C'è una Gentilezza 

C'è una gentilezza
che non è debole nè dolce
ma viene dalla forza.


C'è una gentilezza
che calma le tempeste e la violenza,
la rabbia e l'agitazione,
la ricerca di capri espiatori e scuse
è quando tutta la familiare follia
comincia a ripetersi


C'è una gentilezza
che zittisce il nevrotico
e zittisce lo zoticone
anche se in qualche strano contesto
entrambi possono avere la loro utilità.


C'è una gentilezza
che viene dal silenzio interiore,
rassicurante e ipnotica.
I pensieri rumorosi vanno via
e poi


C'è una gentilezza
che si riflette in un senso di vuoto,
permette alla vera Coscienza
di parlare.
E' solo quando la violenza e la frustrazione
tornano
di nuovo
che devo chiedere a me stesso:
"Perchè sono cosi debole?"


(Translated into Italian by the author and M R Selenu - 2011)</sup>

Let No Man Say There is an End

'A poor poet imitates, a good poet steals' said T S Eliot. I have to confess that I 'stole' a line or two of this short piece from T.S. Eliot himself (from 'Little Gidding' one of 'The Four Quartets') in the full knowledge that I was doing so.



Let No Man Say There Is An End

Let no man say there is an end
For no end fails to mark a new beginning.
Mankind, bacteria of the Universal Mind,
Subject to decay and death and re-creation
Running through a river of relentless change.
Expose the secret of vibration
Then there is no end, and no beginning;
There is everything.

© Geoff Davis


from Behind The Mask (Outposts Publications) 1981

Beyond Reaction

When I react I cannot really feel.
When I respond I scratch the surface
of an undernourished part of me
that connects with what is real.
When I think from the heart
and my body is at peace
I reconnect each disparate part
of that thing we call the psyche.
Sometimes I know and feel
that all that ever was and is and will be
is present here in the Eternal Now
and every note of music born
in fury or in scorn
will reach an end and die
and change its form and live and breathe
in pastures new and pastures old
where there are bridges
that renew, revitalise
and reconnect the active and the passive forces
which fuse and give new birth
to a creation cleansed of lies
and the cul-de-sac of inner dialogue.
There, where heaven and earth
are of no account,
is that realm beyond the two
where neither superstition nor cold logic
come close to what is True.

© Geoff Davis 2010

What is God?

I was partly inspired to write this poem after reading this blogpost What is God? from Professor Jacob Needleman (he has also written a book with the same title which, as yet, I have not read), Professor of Philosophy at  San Francisco State University. Not only did I find his writing intellectually satisfying but it also had a profoundly calming effect on my solar plexus. (Since writing the above I have read the aforementioned book which I found both thought-provoking and uplifting. It has a measured tone and intelligence which is rare in most writing on this subject.)


What is God?

God is where
the ego has no voice,
where Conscience has an objectivity
beyond a culturally or religiously conditioned conscience,
where humility has confidence and innocence and insight
and belongs to everyone and no one.

God is where
every violent thought and feeling and movement
falls away into Silence,
where there is no argument nor explanation nor analysis.

God is where
words and numbers dance
exchanging clothes and meaning
in a Universe that both confuses and delights.

God is where
the labels that we attach to others and to ourselves
have no value
and where we people
are trying to Understand and to Be
in as much as our limitations will allow.

God is where
the thoughts, that turn around in circles and torment,
surrender and acknowledge their own impotence,
where reaction is replaced by reflection.

God is where
the personal and the abstract,
the allegorical and the actual
unite.



© Geoff Davis 2010

Three Weeks Later

This morning I was thinking of a conversation I had with my father three weeks before he died, seven and a half years ago, and I remembered I wrote a poem about it. Strange how you speak straight from the heart, without thinking anything out beforehand, when someone you love is dying.

<sup>Three Weeks Later

"Something’s come over me," he said.
Three weeks later he was dead.
"I don’t believe in anything," he said.
Three weeks later he was dead.
"I don’t want to do anything," he said.
Three weeks later he was dead.
"I don’t think anything matters," he said.
Three weeks later he was dead.
"You think things matter," he said
And I paused and scratched my head.
"Most of the things that we think matter," I replied
Just three weeks before he died
"Don’t matter in the least," I sighed
Just three weeks before he died.
"But some things matter," I replied
Just three weeks before he died.
"And there is never nothing," I replied
Just three weeks before he died
"There is always something," I replied
Just three weeks before he died
"So I believe in something," I sighed
Just three weeks before he died
"Even if I don’t know what that something is," I said.
Three weeks later he was dead.
"Yes," he said. "There’s always that."
And that concluded our little chat
And I like to think that discourse gave
Something he took with him to the grave.


© Geoff Davis 2003</sup>

A Dedication To The Sea (A translation of one of Raimondo Selenu's poems along with the Italian original)

A Dedication To The Sea
by Raimondo Selenu

I sit silently beside you
between the memories
of an old sailing boat
and the future hopes
of a speedy motorboat.

I feel
like a small child
who listens attentively
to what it is you have to say.

Your way of speaking impresses me.

I am the sand that loves the waves
and lives in the immensity of your breath,
listening to the song
of the reef.

Alongside you I appear so small
amongst the pebbles
smooth with age
and shells
that dwell within you.

I curl myself up like a small child
finding nourishment
in fairy tales and adventure stories.

I adore your way of speaking.

© Raimondo Selenu (Trans. from the Italian by Geoff Davis)




And this is the Italian original:-



      Dedicato Al Mare



Mi siedo silenzioso accanto a te,
                 tra i ricordi
  di una vecchia barca a vela
             e le speranze
     di un motore fuoribordo.


                Mi sento
     come un piccolo bambino,
                che ascolta
          ciò che hai da dire.


Mi impressiona il tuo modo di parlare.


     Sono sabbia che ama le tue onde
        e vive nell'immenso tuo respiro
            nell'ascolto del tuo canto
                   alla scogliera.


     Mi faccio piccolino accanto a te
                      tra i sassi
               levigati dai tuoi anni
                      e conchiglie
                 che abitano in te.

Mi accuccio come un piccolo bambino
                     per nutrirmi
             di fiabe e di avventure.


        Adoro il tuo modo di parlare.


© Raimondo Selenu



You can read more of my translations of Raimondo's poems here