horace p sternwall

a flower, a branch, a bird, a cloud
a book not to be read aloud
a life that passes in an hour
a winding stair in a ghostly tower
...

i am not a bad person
at least i try not to be
i want all children to be happy
and all people to be free
...

humans are strange creatures
with many curious features
they have two sides to their brains
a fact difficult to explain
...

i stood on the corner all my life
and never got lost
and everything in the drugstore
i knew what it cost
...

columbus sailed the ocean blue
napoleon met his waterloo
nero fiddled while rome burned
joan of arc was roasted to a turn
...

i talked to the wind
and the wind died down
i talked to the trees
and they all left town
...

some said his name was billy
some said his name was biff
but they had to pick up the pieces
when he drove off dead man's cliff
...

willy white and nora green
were connoisseurs of the unseen
willy wanted love and cash
nora pined for jewels and flash
...

spiders weave, and flies escape
clowns wear noses and magicians capes
everything is what it shall be
whales laugh in the deep black sea
...

joe the jolly bartender
always had a smile
he was a solid sender
and everybody liked his style
...

under a blue familiar sky
polly baked a cherry pie
the farmhands fell down in a coma
overcome by its aroma
...

a tiresome windbag and a crashing bore
walked along a pebbled shore
the windbag mused on the meaning of life
the bore on his unloving wife
...

you look so fine, baby, coming down the stairs
with your eccentric millionaires
a mellon and a dupont on each arm
how could you ever come to harm?
...

omrades raise a glass with me
in defiance of sobriety
though some may deem it blasphemy
i say that drink will set us free
...

harold smith, a romantic soul
had a desperate resolute goal
he pined for the lady emmeline
and dreamed to ask, 'wilt thou be mine? '
...

when there is no turning back
and the last wallop has been packed
and the last freight train runs down the track
will the universe cut us some slack?
...

when i was young i dreamed of fame
of branding destiny with my name
and finding the truest of true love
by giving fate the faintest shove
...

translated from the akkadian of pamba*

there is a flower
that will only open
...

there's one in every town
one that gets left behind
when the other girls head for broadway
or hollywood and vine
...

pals should be true and blue
pals should be there for you
but since the truth will set us free
let me tell you what my pal did to me
...