UlfSong

The Traveler Aldebar came to me in a dream, or if not a dream, then a close relative; that space where you are no longer awake, but not yet asleep. I was listening to Bach at the time—the second movement of his Trio Sonata No. 2 in C minor, as a matter of fact—and as I heard, suspended mid awake/mid sleep, Karl Richter conjure this incredible music up from his organ I knew I had heard this music before. Not as in yesterday, or yester-year, but yester-life. It was on a much larger planet, and a giant sun rising: Aldebar. We were not long for capture, they were already on the shore, those grey and silent ones who, in the end, had found us, and now had arrived to carry out orders. Now entering our fortress. There was no point in fighting, it would only slightly delay the inevitable, we had left the gates open for them. Then we left with them, prisoners now. Execution certain and not far in the future. Such is my memory of Aldebar. ____________________ The lyrics: Once we left our fortress captors gray and silent sentence swift and violent Then I saw her sparkle faint a trace her calling lost to darkness falling Oceans lap and honor our abandoned home shore gray and silent ever more Down this darkened aeon I have traveled wide and far for the light of Aldebar for words to form a portal for song to guide the searcher for dream to find and nurture Ulf Wolf February 1998/June 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

Aldebar For years I tried to fuse two of my songs, this song: Aldebar, and the next: The Traveler into one longer song in two parts, since The Traveler truly is a direct continuation of Aldebar. But I could never find a good bridge, an unobtrusive transition; and so they have, to this day, remained two songs and will so continue, I’m sure. What I said about Aldebar, the sun/star, introducing The Traveler holds true here as well, of course. Aldebar is a childhood sun. The name sprung to me out of nothing (but distant memory), and still he sails nearby skies. My yesterlife, childhood sun. ____________________ The Words: Aldebar is rising get your things they come now any moment Clouds obscure him out to sea he barely touches water I see them in the distance no one now remains upon our shore I know that you suffer still make sure that all is well secured Look, the clouds are parting Aldebar now luminates the harbor Aldebar is smiling unaware that we are soon to leave him I hear them in the courtyard say goodbye to Aldebar right now I hear them on the stairwell is there anything you have forgotten Aldebar is grieving wondering why we have been forsaken Aldebar is fading will we ever know his light again Ulf Wolf February 1998/June 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

Enjoy Every now and then it just strikes me over the head, lead hammer, full swing, brains on the floor, heavy impact: we live in a society almost entirely designed for, and driven by consumption. Perhaps there’s no “almost” about that, come to think of it. A society—if not a world—where more is everything. Where more is beauty. Where more is love. Where more is life—Or else. And like sheep—incapable of escape—we drink whatever is offered. And then we drink some more. While nothing could be farther from the truth, were we only to look. Since I am convinced that we can fight the evils of this universe with art, I collected myself and fell into song. This is the result: my ode to the compulsive consumer in us all. ____________________ The Words: I’ve heard about virgin scenery somewhere beyond the machinery me, I’m fine right here won’t let it get to me I have no goals and I make no plans I fan the fire with one-night stands where I leave no hopes and will suffer no demands I tempt a lot as I siren and sing I feast on hungry hearts but that doesn’t mean a thing I wish I could sample all I see that everybody would come to me with their friendly smiles and their generosity I believe that I am what I eat that I can taste everything I greet and I’ll drink to that for this world is but a treat I spin a lot as I spider and sting I don’t know who I am but that doesn’t mean a thing It’s a consumer’s paradise it is my world and if you’re fool enough to feel it you will never quite repeal it And I know it’s an unthinkable mistake to try to fight it or to fake us out and leave it 'cause we’ll never quite believe that you would try or ever count on breaking through if what you plan and hope to do is find some reason in this all-consuming season we have brought to snare you firmly by the throat and we do not even remotely care you think we have served it up and you will drink You pray a lot as you sinner and cling You say you’ve had enough but that doesn’t mean a thing Ulf Wolf February 1998/June 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

The Conversation This song started out as the two opening chords. I played them over and over again knowing that the opening line was approaching. Closer and closer the longer I played. Then one morning, they arrived, as if born fully-fledged. Now, I don’t know whether this love song is dedicated to a non-existent ideal, or to a distant memory, or to someone I’ve met but did not quite recognize. I don’t know whether the one-way conversation is aimed at dream or reality, distant or not. All I know is that when I wrote the words I meant every single one of them from the bottom of my heart. ____________________ The Words: It’s all I can do to keep myself from falling apart I see your face in a thousand different places And though I know it was long ago this dream refuses to part And I still look for the faintest trace to light the way and to lead me back to the long-lost light of my heart For in my sky you laugh and twinkle bright in every star yet so far yet so far It’s a one way conversation a little strange I know and in a voice unsuitable to hoisting We were not meant to ever part so when we had to let go it didn’t leave a choice for me but to trace the light of a wind you sighed in a sky you knew I would know For in my thoughts you see and soothe me sensitive and true shining through shining through Down my darkened aeon I have loved none other than you It’s been your eyes that have shown me all my guises that’s why I keep on trying all these words to help me shine through and as they rise I imagine they will find their wings and will find your wind and will find a harboring view for in my dream you care and comfort me and all I knew to be true to be true And in my sky you laugh and twinkle bright in every star still so far still so far Ulf Wolf February 1998/June 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

The Fading I don’t remember which came first, the music or the lyrics. Looking back, perhaps they arrived hand in hand. It was an image. I’m not sure from where. Just a brief scene. Her by the fire, I in the room, reading or watching the fire; perhaps I was saying something. She heard what I said (or not), rose and turned to face me. She fingered her hair a little, then hesitated, as if she meant say something. But she said nothing. Instead she smiled, and vanished. Into thin air. ____________________ The Words: Silent by the fire you rose to retire slowly as you fingered your hair and then lingered and then you turned to me and you smiled at what you saw and what I saw was how you faded into leaving my heart in despair my eyes in awe Ulf Wolf January 1998/July 2005 Copyright © 2005 by Wolfstuff

The Sharing I find that each of my songs is a collection of impressions, glimpses gleaned and gathered. And as the collection grows, life stirs and soon these impressions align and cry out for melody. And so, eventually, since they don’t easily give up these impressions, the song is born. And then the song is played, and again, and again to myself and for myself, as yet unshared. Is the song truly song if not shared, I wonder? Yes, it is. But sharing does give it another dimension. ____________________ The Words: I glean and I gather Sweet moments alive to savor and sing you for a while until it is over They shine and they glitter They fade and revive to find and to comfort you awhile until it is over And with a heartful of things to say I have rivers to tell but if I can’t begin I may as well be gone With love as my fortress and song as my guise if I could just share a little while into it is over And while that tenderness is hard to find is so hard to show is so hard to know I find that nonetheless to dream about but to do without is harder still Ulf Wolf January 1998/May 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

The Difference It struck me once that not only is “beauty skin deep” but so are races. I challenge the bigots of this world to differentiate a white man’s spleen from a black man’s. There are though, I perceived, other kinds of races, the spiritual kinds. The philosophical race, the creative race, the hating race, the loving race, the wise race, and the foolish race. And when all is said and done, are not these spiritual races far more important to recognize than the physical. I, for one, was convinced of this as I wrote this song. ____________________ The Words: Brown and green and blue they come some speckled as with dust from the sun Wider some with fear or wonder darker some with lies they have spun Startled some to see quite immaculately a fusing that angels still shun has begun Brittle white and gray and cold and molding still the darkness of earth Ribs and arms and spines and heels and skulls to feed the seedling at birth Rising then she grows in a pattern that goes from nothing into nothing of worth to rebirth Who will stir the heart to find the part that wonders Who will seek to quell the lowly shell that plunders Who will rise to know the spell of earth Two and two and ten and ten are arms and legs and fingers and toes Ears and eyes and lips and teeth and tongue they pray that somehow she knows A liver and spleen as alike and unseen as the ocean of perils and throes she bestows And you find it all some vast appalling sameness As you search you find your perch a blind-and-lameness With a very lively heart within So you shed your feet to rise to greet the tender And you shed your eyes to realize the mender As the everlasting song we sing Ulf Wolf January 1998/May 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

Little Earth Sometimes I have the district feeling that this blue little planet of ours knows precisely where she has been, precisely where she is, and precisely where she is going. Other times I’m convinced that she has not a clue, and just spins obliviously on through the whispering starlight. The truth, as truth is wont to do, probably settles somewhere in-between. And so I asked her, and this song is my question. ____________________ The Words: Little Earth into empty which way do you go are you lost or have you forgotten all you used to know the things you used to know With your mountains and oceans forever in tow on your way for a far tomorrow only you could know that only you could know Through the whispering starlight revolving you go have you thought where you mean to take us I should like to know I’d really like to know Ulf Wolf December 1997/May 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

Stephen Let me confess, this song was directly inspired by Cordelia’s Dad’s The Frozen Girl; I just loved the long, story-telling ballad, so reminiscent of the Swedish Skillingtryck (things that cost a shilling to print/buy—a broadsheet ballad) which my dad loved and which I used to sing as a child, all sad, all about winter and death and alcoholic fathers letting their daughters freeze to death (or starve to death) while they drank themselves to a stupor in the local ale house. Very cheery stuff. So, I tried my hand at this particular genre, and since I rarely manage to write any songs under seven minutes long, now that I was to write a long one, well, it turned out to be at least twice that long. It’s almost like a short story set to music; more a telling than a song. ____________________ The Words: Stephen was born on the First of July rosy of cheek and a brightness of eye all heart and lung and a breath and a cry glad to arrive maybe sad to have parted Ten little fingers and ten little toes two eyes and ears and a delicate nose though with ten brothers and sisters and those soon on the way he was erelong forsaken Being the youngest not counting the twins meant threadbares and hand-me-downs patches and pins asking for little he cowers and grins just for a smile or a pat on his shoulder Last to a supper of gristle and crumb leaving a hunger and cold that benumb leaving his heart and his soul to succumb into the world of his dreams and his demons Sensing a light within story and song gathering words where those meanings belong scavenging books he would read before long learning to fly above paper and letters Caught by his father asleep on the page startled and frightened he woke to his rage told by the fist boys don't read at your age told by the cane you're no better than others Still, by the light of a well-hidden flame Stephen would travel the worlds he became seeing no crime in his lettery game tracing its ink and its papery byways High over mountains and oceans he flew deep within jungles and deserts he grew racing by night for the kingdom he knew spreading the wings of his heart and its hunger One tiny pencil an inch maybe two that and some yellowy paper would do home to the words where his dream would shine through home to the song of his soul and its rising Sam was his brother and older by four Sam was a monger in secrets and more he brought the father one night to the door leading to: See, what a crime I’ve uncovered Damn, Stephen, damn you you'll come to no good Damn you, I'll make you behave like you should father was shaking with rage where he stood breaking his pencils then breaking his fingers Writhing he moaned in his fingery pain black, blue and bleeding they won't write again pleading for help though he whispered in vain no one would come to the aid of his darkness Beggar boy beggar boy lumps for his hands Stephen now cowers and grins where he stands cap on the ground for the coin as it lands ringing the news he may yet have his supper Beggar man beggar man lumps for his hands Stephen still cowers and grins where he stands cap on the ground for a coin as it lands telling anew he may yet have his supper Beggar man dreamer grown into a tree roots in the earth where his feet used to be willowy branches forgiving and free widen the sky of his heart and its soaring Stephen still travels his kingdom of dream of sea shore and valley of forest and stream closing his eyes he can sense every gleam to nurture them all into memorized phrases Heartbeat by heartbeat he adds to his song glimmer by glimmer he guides it along rising by rising it will before long open the gate he has hungered and prayed for Stephen would die on a cold winter's day all knots and bark on his bed where he lay no one to hold him or beg him to stay no one to see he was glad to have parted Ulf Wolf July 1997/May 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

Neither So many dire opposites, so diametrically positioned, so at war with each other, and so utterly false. As a teenager, I once saw the world as a painting, all of existence within the frame of the universe. And from within this painting, looking up you see good, looking down you see evil; looking up you see God, looking down you see the Devil; looking up you see light, looking down you see shadow. But me, standing outside this glorious painting could see neither good nor evil, neither God nor Devil, neither light nor shadow: all I saw was glorious painting. Even today, so much later, in certain moods all I still see is canvas and paint, rendered to render us that we shall give credence to the basic lie that there are opposites in truth. This song sings of these opposites. ____________________ The Words: Neither of evil and good will come calling you after your days and those plays are all through Neither of evil and good will come sifting your ashes in search of you Neither of pleasure and pain will come scouring your soul for disgrace or a trace of a sin Neither of pleasure and pain will come hailing the new life you must begin And you an always lightless color are you alarmed by this at all Neither of evil and good will surprise you as far as I can recall And you an always lightless color are you amazed by this at all Neither of pleasure and pain will entice you as far as I can recall Neither of sadness and hope will come saving your vanishing game or the name you still know Neither of sadness and hope will come holding you now that it's time to go Neither of shadow and light will come offering solace and grace as you brace for the ride Neither of shadow and light will come whispering promises by your side And you an always lightless color are you aware of this at all Neither of sadness and hope will deceive you as far as I can recall And you an always lightless color are you attuned to this at all Neither of shadow and light will conceive you as one day you may recall Ulf Wolf March 1997/May 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

Wonderful I wrote this song when I lived on a 36-foot sloop in Long Beach, California—one of the best places I’ve ever lived—which is probably where the harbor comes from. It’s really just a love song. Boy, girl. Man, planet. ____________________ The Words: Finding his ship in harbor she’s waiting for his sails to furl he’s waiting for her smile Finding her love his arbor he searches for his waiting girl she worries for the while Finding their bond unbroken he holds her even tighter she cannot help but cry Finding his heart awoken he laughs to will the sky to her she laughs to will her heart to fly Finding her wonderful he sees her everywhere he goes Finding him wonderful she gives him everything he sees and feels and knows Finding the Earth my harbor I long to see the sun rise she turns into her light Finding her breast my arbor I find in her a paradise she finds in me a child tonight Finding me wonderful she gifts me everything I know Finding her wonderful I give her everything she seeds and nurses and grows Ulf Wolf April 1996/May 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

Sleep Sleep, when you stop to think about it, I mean really stop, and really think about it, is one of the strangest phenomena around. Really, what is it good for? Rest? You can rest sitting down reading a book. Recharging batteries? I can think of many things that are better chargers, sunshine for one. Ushering us back into oblivion? Well, maybe so. Making sure we don’t get too bright about things? A possibility. Keeping us nice and dependent on what keeps us nailed to the surface of this planet? Wouldn’t put it past him. Like so many other things, when you really look, all you can do is shake your head and wonder. This is what this song does, wonder. ____________________ The Words: Why do we take him for granted and close our eyes when the night appears Why do we furl like enchanted little pawns when his darkness nears Why do we welcome this beast what provisions were made that we would find him fair find him true find him waiting find him soothing Why do we take him for granted when he unearths what we have planted Why do we gladly embrace him his dark within dark within tender fingers Why do we long for his touch what arrangement was made that he would ease our pain steal our hearts find us yawning find us yielding Why is sleep such a well of darkness what does his silence entail why should I just give up my day to these hands of things forgotten Why is sleep such a hollow shadow of all that we pray for and love why do we eagerly all let go of the things we know He's part of life he's part of us it's been forever that he's been with us But parts of me refuse to see and I'll just wait here for some changes I'll just wait until those changes come Why do we take him for granted I can see no earthly good he does Wilting and nearly unplanted we still look to him to comfort us Why do we harbor such death why do we cede while his sleigh of silence tears and pulls all asunder in the guise of peaceful slumber Why is sleep such a mystic nothing such a not at all what we need should we all just concede and pray we will wake up where we parted Why is sleep such a common thief such a leech on all that we dream why do we bow to him and let go of the day we know He's part of life he's part of us it's been forever that he's been with us But parts of me refuse to see so I'll just wait here for some changes I'll just wait here for those changes Ulf Wolf July 1996/May 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

One Ship Fleet Four years out (at near light-speed) from the nearest form of Terra Firma can take its toll, especially if you’re the only one onboard this inter-stellar freighter. I’m not saying that this is the truth. I’m not saying that this is not the truth. All I’m saying is that this song—as they are wont to do at times (more often than not, come to think of it)—simply walked in one day, sat down, and wrote itself. ____________________ The Words: My childhood sun is but a star for they grow that small when you come this far And from this dark within dark it's gotten hard to see for the wintry dust of the galaxy Me, I’m tending to my sanity what little that I've got I'm feeling pretty low and I cry a lot I was hoping for adventure I was hoping for a lot now I’m four years out and I’m not too sure of what I've got in the company of instruments that cast their light upon these years I've spent in flight I'm the pilot and the officer I'm cook and crew I'm the only one aboard with scant to do that’s why I'm living on my memories of grounded feet of days to rise and of friends to greet for in the middle of an emptiness a one ship fleet has little to hope for and no one here for you to meet And I can't even say for sure that I have not gone crazy for last I counted we were two and fighting for the things to do But when I sigh and close my eyes I can see no stranger it's just my heart my single voice my song my prayer that sleep may bring a friend along I used to worry about the cargo but the tether is strong no matter how fast I go it just trails along And there is nothing here to mend for there is nothing can go wrong ‘twould seem it's only me who is not that strong Still, I tend my thoughts as they ebb and flow and I write them down in their afterglow And I try again to spy my star in the dusty dark but I just can't tell I've come too far Ulf Wolf June 1996/May 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

Think What if? What if there is more to this world than meets the eye? Beyond what may appear. What if we didn’t crawl out of the primordial ocean some gazillion years ago? What if we’re more than chemicals and stimulus response? What if we have a history, vast and just about forgotten? What if? What if this is all some sort of trial? Indeed, what if? ____________________ The Words: Did you ever stop to think to wonder at the night befallen here in a thinking that really would matter to trace what made this craziness appear is it something you inherited at birth or something vaguely chosen as you grew or something you have never once had a reason to think a part of you Did you ever stop to ask to wonder whether night has come to stay in an asking that really would matter to question your uncertainties away how can sleeping be so sweet forgetting so absurd and dying something no one knows how to answer at all but think Maybe we are not forgotten maybe we’re just left here for a while Maybe we are not forgotten maybe we're just part of some amazing trial for some time to come Did you ever stop to dream to live your life beyond what may appear in a dreaming that really would matter to truly trace what’s happening right here amazingly I think that it would work amazingly if you think it would work it's something I have never once had a reason to doubt but then Maybe we are not forgotten maybe we’re just left here for a while Maybe we are not forgotten maybe we're just part of some amazing trial for some time to come Maybe we are not forgotten maybe they just left us for a while Maybe we are not forgotten maybe we're just part of some amazing trial for some time to come Ulf Wolf June 1996/May 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

I have to be honest. Sometimes, lovemaking strikes me as possibly the strangest thing two humans can engage in. It’s just an odd thing to do when you stop to think about it. Even the mechanics of it. Just odd. A visiting alien utterly unfamiliar with both the urge and the concept would wonder, what the…? Yes, I grant that this view is a detached one, but does that make it less true? My other observation is that “things”—at least for me—tend to grow a lot more “serious” once sex enters the picture, dragging in tow baggage of God knows how many eons, and things that seemed perfectly tranquil just a week ago is now a churning river of uninvited feelings and assumptions, some to cope with, others to ignore—no matter how much I did not agree to let that motley crew in. And often I’ve seen—known, actually—that things would have been just fine, and continued to be so, had we not engaged in this oh so odd behavior. Oh, it makes so much “sense” at the time, doesn’t it? But what good is it, really? Other than propagating the race—which at this moment is in little danger of dying out by last headcount. Friends. A truer state of affairs, at least in my book. ____________________ The Words: It was your eyes that enabled me to see it was your touch that enabled my touch it was the thought of a lasting life with you it was that dream and that hope that saw me through It was the way that you cradled in your sleep it was the way that you showed me a way it was the light in your eyes when you smiled at me it was the smile in your smile that set me free to scale your mountain to sail your ocean to roam your earth and your sky to breathe your air to drink your water to know this river would not run dry It was your dance as you twirled within my reach it was your hand as you gave me your hand it was your sigh as we fell our fatal fall into the crimson and the wonder of it all It was a world in a world where I could see it was a heart in the warmth of a heart it was a day in your day in your sun and moon how could I know that this day would end this soon to icy mountain to stormy ocean to darkened earth in your sky I fought for air I sought the water I prayed this river had not run dry But signs unspoken downcast broken jealous frozen cursed unchosen stabbing doubts as your friends arrive wondering still is our love alive fickle tears besway my view and blink these eyes as they look for you But then I saw beyond the chill were we friends instead of lovers I could love you still That's one thing I truly saw were we friends instead of lovers And then I saw beyond the chill were we friends instead of lovers you would love me still That's one thing I truly saw were we friends instead of lovers Then we could smile as we cater to our wounds then we could laugh at the strain in our laugh and we could shrug at the chains at the bars and palls and we would wonder at the chasms and the walls And we would ride through the fields of letting go upon the wing of the storm that befell us upon the waves and the waves upon fallow shore upon the why we never thought of this before and scale the mountains and sail the oceans and roam the earth and the sky and breathe the air and drink the water and know this river will not run dry For then I saw beyond the chill were we friends instead of lovers I could love you still That's one thing I truly saw were we friends instead of lovers And then I saw beyond the chill were we friends instead of lovers you would love me still That's one thing I truly saw were we friends instead of lovers As you looked back and caught me with a smile Ulf Wolf May 1996/May 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

Untroubled Driving east on the Ventura freeway, just before you hit the 405, there stood—or towered rather—well, at least a few years ago, a very impressive tree. Not far from the everlasting stream of cars: this river of metal-cased fates rushing (or crawling) by every hour of the day, the tree struck me as the most unperturbed thing I’d ever seen. The lyrics of the first verse arrived as poem there and then as I took in this beautiful tree, seemingly ever content. Several years later—remembering both tree and poem—I set it to music, and added four more verses (well, the last is just a variation on the first). I was very happy with the result then. I still am. ____________________ The Words: Untroubled is my name I see the world from where I grow I like what I became from just a seed in earth below And changes pass me by for I say I should like to stay the same Untroubled is my name Untroubled is my view as seasons savor each disguise I know them as they do and dance their colors in my eyes To scatter in the sun they've had their fun goodbye again to you Untroubled is my view Untroubled is my day as I alight again from dream to sun and wind that say I stir so gladly it would seem this world is but a song and must belong to me is what they say Untroubled is my day Untroubled is my night I sail the stars before they fade one by one from sight to leave the world as she was made from memory and dew that we may newly venture into light Untroubled is my night Untroubled is my name I see the world from where I grow I love what I became from just a seed in earth below And death may pass me by for I say I shall ever know the flame Untroubled is my name Ulf Wolf March 1996/May 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

Heart to Heart Well, this started off as seeing eye to eye: the phrase and idiom. And thinking about lovers who don’t see eye to eye, well they would not see heart to heart, then. And the lyrics grew from there, heart to heart being the requirement for true love and a lasting friendship. And they grew from an almost vision I had in my very early teens, in my bed one light summer’s night, teetering between awake and asleep, and I had heard about love and what people said about being in it. And I, at that moment—I can still recall it vividly—imagined being in love, wholly and over heels, and in that moment I was, I felt all the deep swells that I later (in actual relationships) recognized as love, or, to be more precise, perhaps infatuation. Still, the feeling was amazing, and propelled me into soon-to-be manhood with a loving vengeance. I wrote this song in stages. The first version was complete in 1996, and I actually recorded it semi-professionally, real studio and all, to a reasonably good result, I thought. A little too polished, but nonetheless. In 2007 I added a pair of verses that seemed to complete the song. Then I tinkered with it in 2010 and recorded it again then. Now, in 2015 I polished it a little again, just a word or two here and there, just to be jolly happy with it. And so, this will (I’m pretty sure) be the final version. ____________________ The Words: Not quite awake and not quite asleep you pray for love to ever keep you from running aground on the shallows and the shoals you make To your delight she moves to hold you soft and tender to enfold you to nestle her head nice and close against your neck in what might be part of a perfect start to the love you dreamed in your prayer for heart to heart Awake you see in her gentle ways the wish to fill you with her grace and her touches and her kisses and her whispering that love can be Till a hollow hurt and your hallowed hope one day conspire to elope with the courage and the honesty you feign as an ethereal pain departs with your craven heart as you take for granted her gift of heart to heart So you say your piece and she starts to cry you speak again you ask her why does the sadness in her and the sadness in you increase She doesn't know and she tells you so she turns away and sets to go and you stay with your dream and you wonder at the hurting and so you start to drift apart for the things unsaid and the lack of heart to heart Her footsteps trace across this page to find you hiding in your cage to find the lover she knew to find the dreamer you hid from her then hid from you You think of her quite a lot these days you see her smile her graceful ways and you wish you could talk and could tell her what your troubles were You saw her once with a child or two she looked your way but not at you and the ache in your soul as you wish you could have gone to her stuns the part of a friendless heart that had not the courage to love her heart to heart Ulf Wolf March 1996/April 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

1241 The way I heard it, the Mongols first came out of the East to overrun Europe in the year 1241. Up until then, the Europeans—for hundreds of years up through the Dark Ages—had done a pretty good job of slaughtering themselves, they didn’t really need a hand. Nonetheless, here they came, riders of horses and wielders of swords, and the wall-less towns and villages of the then Europe stood defenseless. Ripe, as it were, for the picking. By 1250, city walls were all the rage. ____________________ The Words: The thunder you hear is us on the run horses and riders of the rising sun We ride for the glory we ride for our lives we ride for the feeding of hungry knives And we ride for our children we ride for our wives we add to the glory with every taken life We add to the glory with every taken life We laugh as you scurry like mice from a hawk and we mock the prayers that you bray and squawk And we laugh as you cower we laugh as you cry we laugh as you either surrender or die And we kick where you crawl we spit where you lie for those who wish to surrender dishonor those who die Those who surrender dishonor those who die The grass has grown dark from the slaughter at hand and the ground is deceptively slick where I stand I swing back on my horse I ride off with a cry you grow hard when you kill you grow strong when you fly We scatter the children we saber the old we heard the remainder into a fold High on my horse I'm a soldier of light I live for this killing I live for this fight And I live for my horse her body is mine I sleep on her back and I drink her blood like wine I sleep on her back and I drink her blood like wine The thunder your hear is us on the run horses and riders of the ever rising sun Ulf Wolf February 1996/May 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff

Phantoms At times, growing up, I felt—almost knew—that behind love (and here I’m talking about infatuation or sexual attraction/compulsion) there was nothing. Just shadows. Phantoms. ____________________ The Words: All my reason has fled me left I stand with one single hope in hand Hearts and lovers have led me darkly and I wish I could understand Ruthless hungers deceive me into rising into those tempting eyes Hearts and promises leave me blind and stranded here upon shoals and lies: a phantom hunger's roar a phantom lover's call a phantom winter's frost for lost are those forsaken my heart are you forsaken Sweet eternities find me all but frozen deep within what I chose Hearts and memories blind me but to those who say maybe someone knows why phantom hungers roar and rising rising phantom voices call to all who are forsaken my soul am I forsaken Suns forgotten once told me but for flight we cannot embrace their light Hearts and angels enfold me wings alight: now fading into the night Ulf Wolf Lucia Morning 1995/April 2015 Copyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff