i've always been cold

if you could see me surfing
myself across the endless mountains
washing my sins in uptown English fountains
hitting the highway at a hundred miles an hour
passing French ladies each holding a single flower
border guards uniformly check out my business
looking into my private life
ask about my finances and my second wife
i'm sitting in the middle of an ocean bridge
west of Montreal on an island in the sand
falling suspended from another person's hand
it's not impossible or even fairly certain
since i'm hiding behind an anticipated curtain
all my lovers are hiding in the audience
i'm sitting in the middle of this crazy intense
bending at the shifting in the wildly blowing time
shouting so you'll tell me what is yours and what is mine?
i'm breaking out while you're apparently breaking in
soaking in the sunset while you're soaking in the gin
there are too many people pointing fingers in this town
holding themselves upright while still holding me down
and always in the new night i'm feeling packaged and sold
you're trying to convince me that i've always been cold
i've come to you drenched in my silly regret
and wonder if this is as good as i'll get
and yet and yet and additionally yet
i never wanted to disappoint
i didn't feel any special need to anoint
i just wanted to get my head out of this joint
watching you watching me
washing out to an endless sea

walking the shadow

yea i walked the shadow of
a narrow valley road
i carried a soldier's load
past mothers who had died
unmoving, while no one cried
i saw bodies tossed and crumpled
their rural lives humbled
into a tangled mess of clothes
a single wilted rose
next to the sleeping face
of a child of Oriental race
i went by walls of bullet-marked stone
standing alone
roofs splintered and a few falling
i heard native voices calling
and pleading and begging and quiet
the air once suspenseful full of riot
finally with wild despair
i saw their eyes looking anxiously everywhere
there was no where to hide
no way to know who had lied
no where to be safely buried
no longer any reason to be hurried
the dust blew fitfully into the afternoon
and i saw in the red dirt a broken spoon
a pair of sad sandals and a good luck charm
resting near a completely severed arm
i saw the uneaten bowl of white rice
balanced on top of an American doll twice as nice
as the young girl split open on her side
unmoving, while no one cried

i've never kissed you

baby how much i missed you
and i've never even kissed you
i never had the chance to spend the night
satisfying a lover's appetite
no, i never had the sense
to climb down from my lonely fence
i never had the heart
to ask you right from the start
would you have me in the morning
take me without any warning
would you be the gentle to my breeze
would you be the welcome to my please
the smile i'd walk a mile to see
be the arms my charms would love to have wrapped around me
baby how much i missed you
and i've never even kissed you
never felt the smoothness of your fingertips
moving with desire across my hungry lips
no, i never had the sense
to climb down from my lonely fence
i never had the heart
to ask you right from the start

driving down the road

i was driving down the road
with Carol and my heavy load
singing her crazy song
about war and everything going wrong
on highway 81
we were young and on the run
in the mountains of eastern Tennessee
a girl in love with her journey and me
heading west from the nearest sea
we didn't have a radio
the sun would show us where to go
across Virginia and across our mind
we didn't know what we would find
she had a picture of her rich old man
sitting in his back yard garbage can
he was smiling with a whisky sour
she laughed at him just about every hour
i had a poem from an old girl friend
waving goodbye at the very end
i laughed at her just about every hour
never had the sense to take a quick cold shower
i got the keys to a real hot deal
but i'm still looking for my next meal
and Carol is looking for her mister right
i'm no longer keeping her up at night
but we saw America and had our share
and i remember and can tell you where
we lay down by the flower meadow and saw the stars
on Saturday night after they closed the bars
i know where we climbed the toughest hills
and the view from the top which gave us chills
we saw the western ocean and slept on the silent sand
and if you didn't you would never understand
now i'm driving down the highway
and no one is looking my way
i am my own bypass in danger of running out of gas
but my eyes are still straight ahead
thinking of Carol and what might have been instead.

The Hammer

fifty thousand cries wide
courage and fear sitting side by side
their brave blood bubbling red
across the killing field, then fled
into the gathering night
atop a crazed horse with a severed Arab head
and hands and feet instead
of victory at the Battle of Tours
where Charles Martel halted a mad horde
with his infantry's mighty sword
saving Christianity and it's Lord
blocking an Islamic House of War
smashing them with the legendary strength of Thor
his soldiers stopped their slaughtering European advance
into this quiet part of northern France
making famous the defeat of the mighty Moor
on October 10, seven thirty two

high school romances

it was simply time to begin:
the flames on his skin
were fire
and serenity shooting higher
into the guilty air
before formal talks begin somewhere
in the late afternoon
hopefully conducted soon, very soon
his calm eyes were wide in dry morning pain
in focus and perfectly, lucidly sane
no cell phone ringing
no chorus line singing
no appointments to be made
no debt willingly unpaid
no thoughts of shopping for an automobile
no deal to seal
nothing apparently left behind
perhaps a glimmer of hope for mankind
i saw the orange robe on a Saigon street
i saw his charred feet
in 1963
when the monk looked directly at me
with burned hands and shaved head
i knew he was dead
but i had wrestling practice in an hour
and a banana to eat and a cut flower
to buy for a blond girl and a kiss
that i surely didn't want to miss
then a late bottle to share with smooth Jake
under the tiled roof of a pavilion by his uncle's lake
i couldn't be expected to miss these chances,
these fleeting moments like high school romances
but i knew he was dead,
as i already said.

The Nearness of You

here is the tool, the key
to what can make a famous symphony
the salesman smilingly said
with his bald head
at six foot four or more
in his tailored suit he asked if i'd like a tea
but really
i said touching the piano with great care
actually, with my practiced flair
i'd like to play a scale or two
maybe a song, one of my chosen few
so i sat on the bench with ready ease
and adjusted myself while he uttered "Please"
as i began to tap and rap and finger from the heart
a gentle concerto from Mozart
number twenty one - Andante
listen to it, i say
a young beauty carrying her cup of tea
walked near and pointedly
asked if i knew
Serenade in Blue
naturally i quickly switched to Glenn Miller
as any helmsman would with his tiller
when the currents proved outrageous
my new situation i deemed advantageous
with the smiling lady who liked my style
she sat on the bench for a sustained while
the salesman never brought the tea
for me
but together
i played and she sang Stormy Weather
my fingers were right with every sharp and flat
i left with my cane and hat
and a sweet-voiced lady on my arm
full of charm

And so it goes...

three NVA soldiers were killed
early in the morning
by Sky soldiers during a 10 minute
fire fight
in Binh Dinh Province
and three AK47 rifles were recovered,
as were 10 pistols, 10 rucksacks, and
a large quantity of medical
supplies.
A 40 bunker complex was discovered
in the Xuan Loc area by Company C,
3rd Battalion, 22nd Infantry.
In addition, a team of Rangers
of the 75th Infantry located and
searched 12 to 16 bunkers four miles
west of Dau Tieng.
Later in the afternoon, Company C,
1st Battalion, 12th Cav., moved
into the location and set up a
night defensive position.
Six bunkers were destroyed by
C troop, 3rd Squadron, 4th Cav.,
2 1/2 miles north of FSB Woods, and
three more enemy positions were
eliminated just north of the
Michelin rubber plantation by Company A,
2nd Battalion, 14th Infantry.
An element of the Americal Division made
contact with enemy forces twice during
the afternoon of September 15, 1970
and with the help of helicopter gunships
killed 30 during the largest action of the
week ending September 20th.

ten minutes on my bicycle

ten minutes on my bicycle is worth more than a week at the Jersey shore walking the sandy beach leaving imprints a good detective could gather hints from how deeply my bare feet sank 

so no, i would never go to a full services bank 

i'd go directly to a chair to read and drink 

watching the tidal pool i'd think of Latin phrases and the root word of the most recent medical term i heard i couldn't imagine myself in a cave 

i would be tempted not to shave 

if i became sweaty and hot, 

i'd still pedal instead of trot

i'd want a kiss from which I'd reminisce 

it's considerably easier to ride with an ice-filled water bladder on my back wearing my Giro helmet and sunglasses 

enjoying the afternoon as it passes 

ten minutes on my bicycle is worth more than a single bed at the Blue Hotel 

walking around back to see the bloody fight not far from the railroad tracks at night where the Swede really got what he deserved 

ten minutes on my bike i braked and swerved 

because it was snowing and i was down in Crane's midwest Nebraska town

making circles in the sand like a circus clown.

Patti Smith

i'm hot and down in old Mexico
my body naked from head to toe
escaping from a North Atlantic storm
until later your arms keep me warm.

sipping wine with friends of mine
drinking beer while you're still here

listening to the Beatles twist and shout:
we sit wondering what it's all about!

i saw Patti Smith in a border bar
she asked me again how you are!

she sang about lovers in the warm southern night.

she threw me a kiss in the broad daylight.

she had male friends who liked to pose.

they applied lipstick to their toes.

sipping wine with friends of mine
drinking beer while you're still here

listening to the Beatles twist and shout
we sit wondering what it's all about!

i saw refugees from a small Honduran town
crying men not making a sound
leaving for Paradise on their midnight ride
looking for anything to maintain their pride.

their children had wide eyes with tears

mouthing words flavored with their fears.

i saw Paris on a big screen TV
dressed as usual tres provocatively:
i heard her when she finally said
if i were poor i'd rather be dead.

sipping wine with friends of mine
drinking beer while you're still here

i'm sitting on my cloud of dreams
unsure of what this temporary existence means.

each moment preceeds the past
until my breath can barely last.

sipping wine with friends of mine
drinking beer while you're still here

listening to the Beatles twist and shout:
we sit wondering what it's all about!

5 nights

five nights
and i'm cooking stew
resting by the fireside
thinking of you
i'm sipping my tea
reading a book
remembering all the days
to here it took
then finding a pillow
before eleven
getting out of bed
sometime around seven
watching the oil
gushing from a hole
feeling the silence
empty my soul
five nights
and i'm sixty-two
still riding the train
thinking of you
and out the window
beyond the steel track
my life as pages
with no turning back
five nights
and i'm riding away
but no one is asking
for me to stay
bright city lights
the countryside
i can't find
a place to hide
using my hammer
or welding torch
i'll make myself
a new back porch
under the stars
by the small pond
like a fairy
with her tiny wand
i'll sip paradise
with a chocolate milk
and a ruby slipper
and a robe of silk
under the sky
if it doesn't rain
i could be reading
Roughing It by Twain
five nights
and i'm tying my shoe
ready for hiking
thinking of you

Judy Collins

my name is Judy Collins
with a most beautiful smile
opening a simple folk song
playing for you, awhile
with high hopes of singing melody
in a lively rock and roll band
underneath the 60's boardwalk
on the wet and silver sand
with Stephen Stills and his gentle hair
watching the clowns
twisting through the air
never knowing if they'll ever
manage to travel anywhere
into time passing by and slowly
into the new tomorrow
into our broken hallways
where i have no need for sorrow
when i have you on my mind
inside my secret garden
where often i have dined
with flowers and special friendships
i hear that someday very soon
war will fade from memory
we will see the rising of the moon
turn the pirate ships
into tender lover's lips
it will reach across the stage
to free a lonely heart locked within it's cage
and welcome in the new dawn
before our laughter is all gone
my name is Judy Collins
and if i had the choice
i would bring a special memory
with heartfelt diamonds in my voice

Team 95

the ground was hard
walking softly
inside the wire at Team 95
near Bien Hoi outside Saigon
at the very moment you took a dive
from the high board
checking your watch for the correct time
while i worried about a friend of mine
you didn't know him
slicing through the water of your pool
i know you thought you were so damn cool
our fire mission was over
now the radio chatter
started to really matter
as i was walking past the wall
of sandbags stacked old and tall
near the cement bunker
near my sack
where i would sleep
occasionally not often deep
i know you thought my life was thin
but wait, it fades
i could hear the thump of blades
far at first but closer the sound
i didn't have to turn around
my chopper pad was near the watch tower
your practice session lasted only one hour
and then you were soaked in the locker room
soaked like a champagne groom
soaked like a sponge in an evening shower
inadvertently dropped and full of itself
i felt the rotor wash
pieces of flying dirt
you never hurt
rushing to class
round eyed girls and more
i on the other hand at war
didn't have your chance to swim
i played a game of numbers
how many KIA or MIA or AWOL
or Chu Hoi or R&R or on leave
or in formation and ready to go
sick or in jail
it would never fail
i didn't know
sometimes fucked up and didn't care
where were you in all of this?
anywhere?

shark

there is blood only for a little while
a small stain on my shirt
i watch the dampness spreading
but it doesn't really hurt

it doesn't really know your name
or where you've been before

this feeling hasn't knocked me down
in fact i'll ask for more

and when you bite me next time
while hiding in the dark
i'll bring my little fish along
to chase away your shark