Dark Corners
(J. Wilson Copyright 1998)

Another curtain call and now I’m all alone
it’s nearly four a.m.
My demons soon awake, that’s when the silence breaks
And then the fun will begin
I start at every fright - noises bumping in the night to haunt me
And sobriety could never leave me be,  to control...

Those dark corners where I stand,
Can I ever be a man?
Will my fears n’ere lead me from
|Those dark corners where I stand
see no sun

The T.V.’s warm blue glow puts on a dinner show
for all that care to attend
The lamp light once a friend, seems to me now dangerous
its shadows flickers as they bend
My deepest carnal dares,  give way now to desperate prayers
my faith restored

It’d be a crazy thing to give up on this suffering
I’m scared but I’m home
Something feels amiss the daylight’s tenderness
has to the night, lost its innocence
I want to be deliquent then I stop and get to thinking
I’ll leave nothing left to chance

Migrants
(R. Pillay Copyright 1998)

I am walking across the sea of the dying
The emaciated and meek, from every corpse a ghost is flying
A solitary protest, I hear a faint melody
To my child I sing for I know, in my eyes
a looming death he does see

Such are the million broken dreams,
blown away with the dust

The sun is setting on Africa,
my memories begin to rust
Bitterness abounds and with the night,
our dreams collide

I will keep on walking for I have no grace to fly
I am walking across the sea of excesses

Even the glorious sun,
drops his joy and depresses
Through the illusion,
there’s a massacre unseen
The horror of the blind,
collectively we dream
 

Leonard (babylon zone)
(J. Wilson Copyright 1998)

When he was right off the boat, in and around
Right off the boat from a mining town
Got his L.I. card, Life was hard
but for the love of his wife and his child Leonard
(Ooh yeah ~ in the middle of the town)

Well Leonard grew up fast,
not much like his dad
Wore an ‘X’ on his hat,
he knew where it was at

Didn’t want to work for no tolerant whites
Had his own pickney fe bring up right
Who’ll keep his children now that Leonard is gone
Was it a stolen car that put him on the run
(Was it a stolen car and did he have a gun?)

In the middle of the town

Have to lock your door in this corridor
Can’t trust your neighbour, nope, no more
Leonard lost touch with his family
confusing his allies with his enemies

Papa didn’t listen to what was said on T.V.
About the trigger happy cop from
north of the city
No T.V. reporter gonna bring back his son
Who’d been grounded by the crack of a bullet from a gun
 

Desiree
(J. Wilson Copyright 1998)
Featuring Alexandra Sleightholm

Desiree I know you think there’s nothing I can say
Can’t explain, no reason for the look upon my face
Your mother’s tired of running
but we’ve run too long to stay
And you’re too young to run alone Desiree

The bus can get hot,
no A.C. on a prairie summer day
The ride is so long,
left B.C. and we’re still a ways away

They said go west boy, nothing in the east
Do your best boy by your family
Said we were too young,
wouldn’t take care of responsibilities
Didn’t know how to raise a child -
have a family
But we’re here now, headed eastbound
Nowhere special, just some eastern town

Five days on,
our destination could you ever know
Dawn’s going to break, showing us -
N.B. as our new home
When the sunlight hits your strawberry hair
I’ll be happy that I lived to take you there
 

Think
(J. Wilson & M. Jones, Copyright 1998)

I’m gonna make you think this time,
and I know I’m going to get some answers
I’m gonna make you cross the line

At last I’ve had enough, now I’ve made up my mind
You’ve just gone too far, and I’m gonna make you think this time

Those fighting words were your sophmoric best,
now you think you got me shaking all over
Your army of lies has really made you a mess
can you soldier your way through the smoke?

You should have a soul searching party tonight,
just a table for one with a view
‘Cause there’s blood on your hands,
blood on your cloak,
and no one can clean up but you

Your so called high moral code,
shines through your eyes,
and burns a hole in anyone near you
To be trapped in a soul that’s so morally good,
it must really be hell just to be you,
that’s what I think

Take notice to the voices in your head,
they’re asking you to listen why don’t you
There’s only one face staring back,
when you’re looking in a mirror

Brief Encounter
(J. Wilson Copyright 1998)

She can see the sailboats on the Hudson clearly now
the train leaves Croton Harmon in an hour
He says, “dress quickly, I’ll put the coffee on,
there’s no time to take a shower”
So what does she take back, what will he leave here
Can they not return, must they always remain clear,
of this place, without fear?

The hero and the heroine, returning from their journey -
it’s always quicker coming back than going
He will try to read the paper, she’ll just sing softly
But they know they’re fooling no one
Something to remember, neither could forget
Defies explanation, logic and good sense -
this place, without fear

All those social graces, they were taught to put on faces
and those rules and regulations refused not their invitation
to the charming world around them in their final destination
this place...

One last kiss for poetry, a hug for consolation,
she’ll be getting off within the hour
Silver screen memories, like that old flick ‘Brief Encounter’;
strangely, he feels just like Trevor Howard

She smiles from the platform and waves the train away
For a single moment there, he nearly jumped and stayed,
in that place, without fear

He can see the sailboats on Lake Ontario
Has it really been raining for an hour?
 

Holy Mountain Man
(J. Wilson Copyright 1998)
poem by Michael St. George

I used to like keeping my distance, I’ve been hurt before,
why open up the same old sores to you
This time was different, ‘cause it seemed to me,
that you’ve been through the same things too
I could be candid with you, for such are affairs of the heart
My heart was handed to you, I tried to stop before the start

And they say, it’s easy to be holy on a mountain
Clouds roll by, as time gives way
And they say, it’s easy to be holy on a mountain
But when you come down, you come down to stay

I guess your smile was the answer, to every question in my head
To come down off of the mountain, you gotta cross the razor’s edge

            I thought I was protected on my mountain;
            isolated, yet, partially I-tegrated by choice,
            I later realized I was mistaken
            I was wrong...

Hammer
(J. Wilson Copyright 1998)

Don’t you sometimes wonder how it all just slipped away
Or was it even within your grasp in the first place?
Between the jobs, between the lovers,
before the man you want to be,
There’s a solitude that begs the question:
Will you not be free?

You used a matchstick to clear you of a fog
Your silly speech obscured a needed dialogue
You ran ragged when you should have taken a stand
You used a hammer when all you needed was a hand

Met a singer last night she didn’t recognize your name
Told her who you were and how that it was such a shame
That you’ve been so out of touch, You just seem so out of luck
Drag your ass through the years, But it always gets stuck

You wrote a chapter, a poem would have done
You shone a lantern into the mid-day sun
You gave orders o’er which you’ve no command
You raised a hammer all you needed was a hand

Don’t you sometimes wonder if you effort is to an end
In such hot pursuit one often tends to forget:
The dream it was, the dream it is, The dream it will never be
All those countless shapeless moments,
alone is where you’re constantly

You grabbed thrice when one would have sufficed
You spent a fortune on precious little time
You could have asked, but instead you did demand
When you raised a hammer all you needed was a hand
 

Out Of Town
(J. Wilson Copyright 1998)
poem by Michael St. George

Your eyes light up with hate and scorn
You must be thinking of those deeds you’ve done
But time won’t speed others’ wounds to heal
Now there’s no one left to make a deal
You’ve got nowhere left to turn
and  fate won’t let you down

Your scheming has cost many dear
Your sour games have brought on salty tears
You seem to all so out of place
Can you possibly stay in such disgrace
You’ve got nowhere left to turn
and fate won’t let you down

Trying to pretend you’ve learned
Won’t get you out of town
I say we busy, busy like commuters on the T.T.C.
Devlish eyes, with every colourful scheme applied
Now you wonder why there’s nowhere to turn
You no see all your actions, them get burn
You might have to assume wings and fly out of town

Icarus’ Lament (dont’t look down)
(J. Wilson & P. Aiello Copyright 1998)
Featuring Victor Crowl

Faithful to none and loyal to fun
Couldn’t help flying so close to the sun
O’er the mountains of lies that shroud
the truth exposed is frightening

Soaring above all the mystics and seers
A blind eye upon betrayal through the years
A voice from on high whispers in my ears

“Icarus, your wings are melting”
Don’t look down ~ I’ll be alright
Fly high ~ The sky is falling
What could possibly go wrong ~ I’m too young to die
But the sun’s too hot for such a height ~
I’ll only end up burning ~

The ghost of me will say I’m sorry, write it in the sky
A heartbeat away from a life long ambition
A moment of doubt that leads to transition
Knocked off a cloud into a sea of deception
I know, I hear, I feel

For what is a man profited if he shall gain
The whole world and lose his own soul...

(Matthew 16:26)

Healing
( J. Wilson Copyright 2000)

With a gentle hand on my hand I’m reconnected
Feel the energy rediscover me
Fears now begin to dissipate
Embrace the force flowing through my system

Healing, oh turn off the pain
Learn to see the past as just that
I’m healing, bring love back again
Listen to the heart, then understand

I’m seeing colours, now I’ve stopped shaking
Purple, yellow, orange, I’m not afraid anymore
With a gentle hand I transfer information
Where I have been is where I’ll remain no more

A gentle hand has sealed my division
With a golden lining, a spiritual alchemy
As whence I came, I am again that person
Through moments sacrosanct, I accept the remedy