Obermesser

I rode my bicycle into the wind
And you followed me like a swan in flight
Maybe slightly less graceful but right
Before we reached the hill
You gave a determined look and still
Managed to keep the pace
Even though we didn’t race
Like crazy we tried to look quasi-pro
And people who’d see us would say “Oh!
They’re so colorful and obviously fit
How do they find the time to keep doing it?”
But on the hill we’d focus and pedal
As we pushed our rolling steeds of metal
Because something was in the air
As we rode we found it there
And it was good for our spirit
So we kept riding farther to hear it
To the top of the hill and away
Into the distance of another day
Where you rode your bicycle into the wind
And I followed

High fool

You wore the sweater
And it must have been wool
And I watched the sweater
And must have been the fool
You jumped and kicked and spun
I watched and was quickly undone
It was football night
In an autumn chill
I was in the band
Watching from a nearby hill
I heard you call out to the crowd
Singing a fighting song proud
With energy to spare
And I kept wondering how
To get you out of there
Hot dogs and soda pop
It’s better that we didn’t stop
Scoreboard flashing neon bright
You wore the sweater
And it always seemed tight
And I watched the sweater
And everything seemed right.

Bangkok, 1970

I saw you there
Your long dark hair
Pinned to a number
With a fish bowl stare.
Nothing to do
Who was I to you
But a passing dollar
In a G.I. shoe.
Your hand was small
I can recall
We walked the steps
Then down the hall.
You made no sound
Eyes to the ground
I wished for buddies
No one around.
I saw your look
An unread book
A face so impassive
The years it took.
I made a stance
Pulled at my pants
And left you wondering
It’s not romance.
I saw you there
In the thin air
Like a baby ghost
With a fish bowl stare.

Jesus tells me

Running a finger around his thumb
Jesus told me tomorrow would come
And a lonesome lawyer with a reed thin smile
Would follow my footsteps from the river Nile.
He’d be tossing his stones between my feet
Telling me never to trumpet retreat.
But what could I do about the 12 mad men
Who covered my eyes with their hands and then
Ran from the garden with an apple tree
Upsetting the cart which would set them free?
And you’ve probably heard this story before
About the smallest boy who dressed for war
And with a single well-aimed timely shot
Scattered an army before it had fought.
Locusts and plagues came in on their knees
Looking for temples to challenge and seize
Then finding a story that couldn’t be told
They started their mission to eat all the gold
While telling that tale it’s usually spun
Their kindest words are often undone
So what is left is fresh stark and bare,
Hardly a heart is still settled there .
But strongly some search for Paradise
Where the easy land is free of ice
And the western winds are glad to blow
On a nearing horizon where soulful men go.

Along for the ride

Watching you play the mandolin
with your twisty hair
and crazy grin
i thought of that comet
flashing bright
coming in then out of sight
all in a century
more or less
as you tapped the strings
and sparks and fire
took the crowd ever higher
until the sweaty screams
like famous dreams
evaporated
with raucous applause
a deafening pause
then you took your bow
all quiet somehow
and now
it's over
for awhile.

Why, dad?

one dumb day i wandered all blue and bad
into a hotel room and found my dad
sitting on a silver couch
where he told me he was sad.

he didn't seem to be a dick
or a downright nasty little prick
but he beat me roughly as a kid
and i thought that was sick.

I never meant to be looking back
at his youthful compassion lack
but it's still a painful hurt
to imagine his attack.

i once was tossed into a bedroom wall
where i hit hard and took a fall
and his foot landed in my ribs
real hard and made me bawl.

but the physical pain was not as tough
as the lack of love and that was rough
especially when i tried to stand
to tell him trembling i'd had enough.

then it must have been the booze and life
which created in him unbearable strife
so that justification
for the day he used a knife.

but now he's been dead these dozen years
and still my eyes strange they fill with tears
because he never once apologized
so life is not exactly as it appears.

maybe you too have walked upon these shards of glass
and wondered how long that nick would last
when you're with people bright and fair
it's easier then to forget that past

but it's there.

Nancy A

I hit your window
With a little pebble
But then I’d always been
a simple rebel.
A tiny tap
A fading noise
I’d rather play with you
Than play with toys.
But then you appear
I moved so near
To almost touch
Your turquoise jewelry
A dangling memory
You’re more beautiful now
Than I remember, somehow
Because you’re solid and sure
Much more mature
And substantial.
Thanks for it all
Even though it seems small
It meant the world to me
To see
you

Pool time, Syd of P Floyd

I’m in the bottom of the hole with a silent broom in hand
And I should be at the center piece in my crazy rocking band

I’m wearing a full length jacket hard and heavy to my grave
And I should be playing music but I simply can’t behave

I see that folding metal ladder from the deep end of this pool
Where you tried to signal to me to be less a silly fool

I heard the cymbals crashing coolly on the nearest foreign shore
And wasn’t certain they would tell me what I was reaching for

I’m the shining edge of diamond in a fastly fading night
But I should be underneath the rays of a swiftly rising light

I’m trusting in no other one since there’s no one else around
And I’m talking to no other one since my head can not be found

I’m noticing seats sit empty and the tickets wet and pale
Not knowing that you abandoned me on this bed in someone’s jail

I’m hearing the singers singing who keep time without a beat
Not thinking you turned out the light and threw me into the street

Austin city bar

I saw her at a table in an Austin city bar
Took the highway from San Marcos so she hadn’t traveled far
It was just my luck to catch her eye as she reached to get her drink
I saw a dance step in that smile and knew just what to think

I’ve never seen a cowgirl who could sit with cowboy pride
More handsome than a quarter horse I’d like to saddle for a ride
The silver buckle of her belt lay captured on her hips
Her tongue now slowly moving across those ruby lips

I walked not like a stranger but easy to her chair
And at her side I noticed she had a flower in her hair
The yellow rose of Texas tucked neatly by her ear
A Hook’m Horns medallion still resting by her beer

I’ve never seen a cowgirl who could sit with cowboy pride
More handsome than a quarter horse I’d like to saddle for a ride
The silver buckle of her belt lay captured on her hips
Her tongue now slowly moving across those ruby lips

So comfort me my darling, my mystery girl tonight
Let’s do the famous two-step then slow dance out-of-sight
She laughed and called me pard’ner, took me by the hand;
Squeezed me close and whispered, “I want you for my man.”

I’ve never seen a cowgirl who could sit with cowboy pride
More handsome than a quarter horse I’d like to saddle for a ride

Pluto Knee Om, 8/9/1945

The boys in school they think it’s cool
there’s no one to impress
but the empty bellied African
wants nothing but has less

The little girls wrapped in their curls
their fathers hunt for pay
inside a steamer sunk at night
who's ghosts have gone away

The TV mother full of mirth
her phone calls far from home
sits hearing oceans rise and fall
from Singapore to Rome

The Cinderella shopping cart
with Barbie dolls and death
rolls down an aisle at midnight speed
without a thoughtful breath

The sidewalks of a city street
with souls inside of socks
all painted in a gloomy hue
are wrapped inside a box

The lion and the jungle frog
Before a winter day
Gave their voice to loneliness
Who had nothing more to say

The philosophers were funny
up staged and in their bed
and when they pointed with an eye
Earth's flowers were all dead

Three cheers for number 94
a long, long time ago
it’s elemental my old friend
The Bomb was meant for show

Good girls

She said her name was Angie with a whisper in my ear
and a rolling song of beautiful sung high for all to hear.
She said her name was Barbara Ann as she danced onto the beach
and washed the sand between her toes, the boys just out of reach.
She said her name was like the Dawn, a poor boy as her friend
and she wouldn't make him go away, he held on til the end.
She said her name was Eleanor, a Rigby lonely girl
and she made a face found in a jar with sadness and a pearl.
She said her name was Gloria when the midnight hour struck
and told me that I'd have to pay, but I just said good luck.
She said her name was Lucy with diamonds in the sky
and clouds and flowers everywhere and smokers flying high.
She said her name was Mary, a proud and turning wheel
and kept on spinning in the streets to test her sex appeal.
She said her name was Roxanne and she'd wait nearby the door
and catch a glimpse as I walked by, her red light on the floor.
She said her name was Suzy and she looked real good to me
and tasted like a creamy cheese melting softly on her knee.
She said her name was Windy, a warm air upon her face
and smiled to every man she met and invite them to her place.

It's not about you

If you happen to hear this
and think it's about you
that it sounds like a love song
which is simply not true
don't suppose for a minute
that you're still on my mind
that's over forever
you're my past and behind

But if you happen to listen
at a party some night
as a friend of yours' mentions
you're not acting quite right
If the hand that you're holding
isn't mine as you squeeze
don't think for a moment
I'm missing you, please
It's not what it seems like
not even at all
I'm totally happy
we've had our great fall
I'm not missing your laughter
your hair or your smell
the way that you'd kiss me
with lips to foretell
I'm not missing the friendship
you've left me in Peace
i won't even notice
this hurt that won't cease

If you happen to hear this
and think it's about you.

vietnam

In ’69 I went to war while Nixon was in charge

While Kissinger his famous brain was Ambassador-at-large

Vietnam seemed so far away but a flight across the sea

United us in strange embrace, both yearning to be free

Many men of different stripes with duffle bag in hand

Saw this Orient in great divide, a sacrificial land

The sun was hot, the soil was hard but our duty call was heard

The officers had our full respect, we took them at their word

Modern cavalry soon was marching, it mounted a high horse

Artillery guns were sounding, the war marched on its’ course

So off I went to guard my post of concrete, sand, and wire

At night the sky a show of exploding flares and fire

I had this Ranger background, ate snakes with my bare teeth

Bled red American Marlboro blood, Uncle Sam was my new chief

Overhead the choppers ripped the air, twin 60s at their doors

They searched the land for Viet Cong, rice paddy killer whores

The DMZ was really not all peacefulness and calm

The flowers there were buried by the smell of fresh napalm

Tet was a bitch for all involved, a bloody New Years truce

When General Giap knifed public Peace & hoped to cook that goose

We had marines in ol’Khe Sanh, six thousand in flat Hell

Unlike a real world title fight, no friendly-sounding bell

Then Abrams tried to save the day; he came in to help us out

But Charlie boy still had his guns and fought without a doubt

It started with a Friday rain and ran for months straight through

I hopped a jeep and left Saigon and drove mountains to Pleiku

The strawberry fields and rubber trees, red dust cloud in my head

I felt the weight of loyalty, machine gun in my bed

I heard Mike Leonard give his brief behind an army door

A peace sign hanging from his neck, he spoke about the war

What he had to say you had to hear, he said about midnight

The tanks would come down highway One and everyone’d take flight

The statues in this country, fighting soldiers under arms

Have weapons in poor peasant hands when all they want are farms

I left for home in a Freedom Bird from a world the French forgot

Knew a RED flag rose in victory and wondered, “Was it all for naught?”

I thought you had to love me, a steel warrior from your past

But when I walked your chilly roads those notions faded fast

Another war became another war, as conquest dreams were planned

While Nam guys keep a watchful eye, old battlements still manned

Come on America, give me Hell then give me precious bread

Tell me all I need to hear, pump love songs thru my head

Come on America, do it now while I am still near

Tell me all I need to know, softly whisper in my ear.

Orange Street swing, 1953

i tore my finger in the swing set
and blood just jumped into the air
as i ran from the pain nowhere
in particular but screaming and such
until an Aunt who never spoke much
yelled and grabbed me as i cried
she said People will think you died
then Oh my God, get in the house right now
as she held my right hand all red and squeezed.
if Doc Barr can save this, he'll be pleased
as will your mom. Let's wrap this mess
and wash it in iodine, i guess
and then i remember the needle and nurse
but i was too young to know how to curse.
i still have it
but it looks sorta weird
the skin on that fingers' not flat
it's lumpy and tiered
but the nail
without fail
still grows.
So it goes.

A summer day

yes, i loved her on a summer day
yes, i loved her, then i went away

she was sweet on me & told me so
i held her hand & asked her where to go
she told me she knew a secret place
if i didn't mind, we could change the pace

she inflated me & watched the smile
i touched her body & asked her for awhile
she told me she knew a quiet chair
if i didn't mind, we could visit there

yes, i loved her on a summer day
yes, i loved her, then i went away

she was soft to hold & pushed away
i watched her lips & asked her what they say
she told me she knew a favorite song
if i didn't mind, i could sing along

she was hard to know & in a dream
i saw her move & asked her to come clean
she told me she knew just what to guess
if i didn't mind, i could ask for less

yes, i loved her on a summer day
yes, i loved her, then i went away

Rome is burning

Rome is burning
I’m in a Serengeti jeep
Riding to a distant plain
I’m getting in too deep

Underneath the Milky Way
Where I found your face on fire
Thunder hit the open road
You took me even higher

Underneath an apple tree
Where you squeezed me to the core
New blood pounding in my head
I need to ask for more

Underneath a windblown sail
With salt spray on my face
A wave exploded in the night
Then gone without a trace

My daughter is the music
A drummer’s in her band
Lead singer at the microphone
It’s getting out of hand

And through it all you lifted me
Above the crowds we flew
Past shepherds resting in the dark
And everything we knew

Main throttle's fully open
Tearing winds are at my face
My driver's lost without control
I can’t maintain this pace

Rome is burning

Maytown loop

i want to be this piece of magma burning in your eye
an ember of such piercing heat you touch the Sun and die

i want to ride in your car and have the radio on
i want to hear Queen and Credence and Dawn

i want to be the President of France
and wear size 32 pants
when we visit the Louvre
you on my shoulder
and the press corps scrambling
we off to Monaco gambling
with Prince Rainier
you always wanting to be near

i want to be with a cardiac surgeon
eating fresh roe of Caspian sturgeon
by the raw Moroccan coast
chasing Lawrence of Arabia's ghost
into the rugged Atlas mountains
past desert camels and fountains
down to the market for an ice cold beer

AM I CLEAR?

Table 4

Will you come for me tomorrow in the bar at table four
I’ll be cleaning out my whisky glass and looking at the door
I’ll be looking up to toast your smile, to greet you eye to eye
To love you with finality when all else seems a lie

I’m reaching for the candlelight
With a matchbox in my hand
The smoke still forming circle eights
That I can’t understand
The shadows of a local band
Fall on my waiting face
The music notes and voices
Slipping by without a trace
Some dancers sway and tap a beat
The houselights on the floor
Create a pattern in my mind
That has me ask for more
I’m waiting for tomorrow
Or a time to pay my Bill
When the waitress grabs me by the hand
“It’s clear you’ve had your fill.”

Will you come for me tomorrow in the bar at table four
I’ll be cleaning out my whisky glass and looking at the door
I’ll be looking up to toast your smile, to greet you eye to eye
To love you with finality when all else seems a lie

Afternoon tea

You suck my air out through the smallest aperture

You leave me breathless

I pull the heavy double-blade sword razor-edged

From my scabbard, lunging at dreams

Viking-like and ready for the dissection

I watch the afternoon tea and fall asleep

Rocking like a baby new-born

You leave me writhing on the warmed white sand

You leave me gasping

I pull the poet’s pen dripping with my blood

From a secret lair, rushing at schemes

Donne-like and ready for death

I watch the music float and hear the smell

Rocking like a baby new-born

Greg Hoover is not a young man, nor is he pushing up roses or other flowers.