under blue skies

it's not funny
when the waterfall spills
between the sharper rock
and the steeper hills

under blue skies
clothed in gray perfume
between the shouting crowd
and the silent room

finding cover
wild pleasure around
paying full attention
not hearing a sound

drifting on air
while paradise sleeps
between the sad Angel
and the God who weeps

it's cold comfort
that heated blood flows
when everyone's lonely
and everyone knows

turn down the lights
remember the sun
and do unto others
what needs to be done

it's not funny
when the waterfall spills
between the sharper rock
and the steeper hills

under blue skies
clothed in white perfume
between the shouting crowd
and the silent room

nothing much to say

these clear tears were so heavy
they were impossible to lift
but seeing you smile by my side
was a special gift

a memory of a walk through the woods
in a creek and over trees
i wanted to tell you how much
you please

the green field and yellow flowers
our time spent in lazy minutes
turned slowly into hours

while the sun warmed the soft air
watched us quietly explore
straying from the narrow trail
we had enough but wanted more:

cars and the noise they make
in exhausted life seem so fake
i called you closer to my side
there was no where to hide

so i had you in the meadow grass
i the lad and you the lass
hearts content on an April day
there's not much more to say

the fiddle head ferns and property lines
little yellow signs
nailed into thick bark
but just a momentary mark

and cutting our initials into wood
thinking we should
we tumbled like little elves
far from our serious adult shelves

story in the air

when the wall came apart
and i slipped and fell
i lost my head and my heart
but who could really tell?

no message could get through
but i heard the cry
then i couldn't find you
and i didn't know why.

there was a story in the air
everybody was afraid
they went looking for their share
but it hadn't been made.

and the radio went dead
mountains of smoke and fire
exactly like the old books said
the oceans were growing higher.

danger like an angry snake
coiled with a baby in his bed
and i ran and had nothing to take
i talked but heard nothing i said.

a creek washed over my feet
i went into water to find you
but there was no one there to meet
i wondered if you always knew

when the wall came apart
and i slipped and fell
i lost my head and my heart
but who could really tell?

nothing ventured, nothing gained

and when i saw you last night
you saw me for the first time
then you saw the door
a short walk across the floor

you were looking for a way
to avoid that awkward glance
but i always found the pain
since you never looked back again

and you always cast a shadow
but i never tried to hide
no matter how it always seemed
oh hell, i guess i always dreamed

what had i ever said, i wondered
what could i ever do
there never was an easy way of knowing
which way you planned on going

and i don't know why i needed you
when you found it hard to say
just call me back tomorrow or some other day

it wouldn't help to know i really pained
well, brush it off
nothing ventured, nothing gained

and i don't know why i needed you
when you found it hard to say
just call me back tomorrow or some other day

it wouldn't help to know i really pained
well, brush it off
nothing ventured, nothing gained

Playing in the street

It seems as though it was only a year ago
But it was so many more
And i really didn't know
Looking out my front door

I saw you playing in the street
Laughing at the simple air
Smiling at those you'd meet
Juggling life without any care

As though you were a circus clown
But nobody knew who you were
An adjective or a pronoun
A satisfactory him or a silly her

You danced with the moon and cried
As loves you knew flew away to war
Some still living but most have died
Wondering what the fight was for

Left with questions and a simple thought
In traffic where the light shines green
Looking at the happy things you've bought
Wondering what can it all mean

You're dreaming on another boulevard
Looking at the sky for another moon
Trying to take it easy but it's too hard
Waiting, wanting it to be here soon

And it seems as though you're getting old
The dancing step is hard and long
Getting boxed up and rolled and sold
Wondering if maybe it just turned out wrong

Judas Priest (has a gun)

Judas Priest
liked his liquor straight

and he partied hard
and he stayed out late

he wore his beard
on every Saturday

and peppered God
on the kitchen tray

but he never missed his time to pray

Judas Priest
worshiped his warm gun

like a man of war
he shot out the sun

he wore his hat
on every Saturday

and turned out the lights
just so he could stay

but he never missed his time to pray

Judas Priest
liked his women cold

and he treated them
like they're bought and sold

he grabbed a girl
on every Saturday

and he frightened her
so she wouldn't say

but he never missed his time to pray

Judas Priest
liked his lonely shore

and he never cried
but he wanted more

he slapped a child
on every Saturday

and he hated it
when they ran away

but he never missed his time to pray

McNamara: The fog of war

the fog of war spread on Robert's face
it wiped his smile away
he said he had a better plan
he'd try it out someday

meanwhile men were dying fast
on patrol or in their base
they often died for nothing
it spread on Robert's face

he counseled Mr. President
and showed him progress, too
with numbers and amazing charts
inside the White House zoo

meanwhile things were going wrong
men dying without a trace
just sickening little smears of blood
it spread on Robert's face

he thought he had the answers
his data showed the score
as soldiers kept on fighting
an Asian civil war

the suits he wore were useless
no victories came with a tie
he counseled Mr. President
and formed another lie

meanwhile years were passing
explosions came and went
more lights were seen in tunnels
more thousands of soldiers sent

the fog of war was vicious
it set a furious pace
and when it wanted victims
it spread on Robert's face

1973

I saw sweet Jenny
in the lobby of the famous Blue Hotel

She was dancing with another man
He was treating her real well

Her head resting on his fancy shoulder;
it didn't matter that he was older

and with a smile she took a chance
gave the other men a second glance

she'd wink and smile and pout
and I knew what that was all about

She used to do the same with me
back in 1973

and then she'd say "Baby, can't you squeeze me close
I don't ever want to be your ghost."

Well, that was simply fine with me
back in 1973

when her hair was scarlet and her dress was black,
I'd kiss her lips without turning back

She'd eat me up and never turn me down
Each day we'd drive laughing into town

And the road ahead full of fire and heat
No, I never wanted to leave that street

Hot traffic under smooth night skies,
I felt the need in her hungry eyes

Just running on empty but she wanted more,
so i'd do it again for a wild encore

Well, that was simply fine with me
back in 1973

when her hair was scarlet and her dress was black,
I'd kiss her lips without turning back

and then she'd say "Baby, can't you squeeze me close
I don't ever want to be your ghost."

And with a smile she took a chance
gave the other men a second glance

she'd wink and smile and pout
and I knew what that was all about

Well, that was simply fine with me
back in 1973

Another week, another dollar

I'm tired.

I've been teaching inside the high school
the past 4 days.  The experience is not encouraging,
since so many of the students don't seem to get it.

Almost every ear is filled with a tiny speaker, as their
music is constantly playing.

Almost every hand holds a cell phone.

The focus is largely not on the material, and
most are unwilling to discuss
the historical issues;
rather, it's on the here and now, or
on the very short-term, like what's for lunch?

I stand and talk to my class.  I sit and chat with them and there
is laughter, and there are questions, which I answer.

But the near past of American history does not interest my class.

I'll try again next week.