Out by the taxi driver's garden
the children play, the Happy Land.
Now a open gate where horses beckon
with the swish of their manes.
I cannot hear what the are saying.
As the speed of light through the dense dirt on the window
muffles that game they're playing.
Another noise in the distance.
A plane flies west as the sky clears and I see
through my foggy frames a thousand light years ahead.
I torn my neck and play the same game but in my music
and my shadow.
No need for light
or a necessity to sham
as naked under the streetlight
I play in the rain.

Of what do you really dream? by Adam Parry

To turn back
a moment, to know it can be done,
all free now, all silent, no way to stay young.
My face all crumpled
all shaded and scorned.
These  laughter lines like new children
waiting to be born.

BORN BY ADAM PARRY

Born to be selfish
born not to care
born to be ugly
born for us all.

Grown in then city
nutured by smog
Breeded by money
Living to work.

Time to pay back now
this cheque will no bounce.
Paying back interest on tears and on blood.

Buying back the silences
and homes for the blind.
Love takes a hostile take over
Or is that all in the nind.

To all sides...peace by Adam Parry

Peace has broken out
in pockets it reamains
inside people peace never went away,
but in all these peaces
war never ceases.
No prayer, no song
no life long negotiations,
changing front war
but peace marches,
bend and break
and reconciliates, peace keeps
pushing, but unlike war,
peace will never end