Party of De-Party

It was a nice party, eating and drinking
But you are departing
for a distant town with a different destiny

Everyone was excited and happy, enjoying
the moment of fine wine and the together-ness
But who was actually thinking
that before the arrival of the new dawn
you'll be gone, away from us, and moving
on, without us,
for a new direction of the continuous life Journey


To the future of Uncertainty awaiting
Ahead we are headed, stormy or balmy,
or otherwise

We are told to go with the flow
and wherever the winds blow
so we go
or otherwise

So we go, without you, ahead
Into the Uncharted Sea
None of us
able to foresee

After All These Years

After All These Years © Rhyme Child
12/4/2004 Cold San Franciscan Night


After all these years I still remember the dream we had
when we were seventeen, looked young and green,
And clean like so much the cool fresh stream from the mountain spring.

It seemed so vivid that
all differences are being worked out between all human beings,
all reservations made and the relations improved among all creations,
our environments and our planet.

We thought it is the way it should always be that
there is no longer man-made lines to separate peoples
no longer hatred and ignorance to devide any souls.

It seemed so clear in our dream that tomorrow’s
already here and we have all come together
to celebrate one another’s victories and share each other’s
grieves and sorrows.
And we are again all brothers and sisters,
as the bible says, after all.

We used to think the world is going to be always the way we knew,
the way we dreamed it in the years we were ourselves evolving
into something strangely new.

Too bad!
The reality betrayed our innocent old dream so bad.
What a shame and what a crime!
Only not long ago, we almost made it there one time,
for once we had a true destiny as a human being,
as a whole, after all.

I can’t help wondering these days whether we should hide or fight,
or dive right into the ignorant majority pool,
like a completely fool,
only to be part of the gang, playing their foolish game
having nothing to gain,
nor anything to lose, anyway, after all.

But I still often think of you and that
old-fashioned dream we once had
when we were young and green, and clean...

After all these years I’m still having the same old-fictioned dream,
again and again, as did in those days,
when we were seventeen, looked young and green,
And clean like so much the cool fresh stream from the mountain spring.