The Cynic's March by Adam Parry

Wearing fancy dress so no-one will see me.
Wonder should I shout,
offer some protest apart from merely walking?
Oh, he's taking a photograph,
better not smile. This is a serious business
and dammit I can't smile.
Look at the car we've held up.
Ha-ha

A cave of home by Adam parry

Trying to make connections
going into foriegn lands
to feel more at home,
when a search for belonging begins at home.
Yearning for oriental eye
that love as those others eyes loved.
Forever in this Romantic spell,
a Merlin forgotten in his cave with no way out waiting to escape

THE MANY-COLORED PEACE by Adam Parry

They did not hear us
when we said
we wanted no more war.

Will they every hear us?

Cannot now war sleep
into peacefulness.
So we are the true hearts,
even so still super glued hearts

A July morning by Adam Parry

It seems to me my pin-prick eyes see so slow
holding back a flight into the swift swish  from tree to tree.
Never seems to me.  the morning is now full.
Angel-headed, forgetful father - a vision of the sea in the rent blue
of sky. No, never seems real to me.
Yet seems to me still I am the fascist,
a country less wanderer moving mountains
with a stolen song. Birds roost on my shoulder
and later the skateboarder wind away and it seems
a breath of wind blows the fascist father away and I know
fascist father will find his fascist child
and laugh and hold her tight, and this damned Daddy flies away to me.