Bowie, you're hiding under my bed

Bowie,

you're hiding under my bed

and yet someone told me you were thought dead

no longer playing with the ground controls and spinning knobs,

singing for the few available spaceman jobs;

you were quite the looker,

dressing like an expensive alien hooker

in the backseat of your car 

playing with Ziggy's guitar;

oh, yes, biting the dust because you must

holding hands with a young China Girl;

a handful of roses, a bright red wig and a pearl

like a Spiders from Mars frontal attack,

but i've heard you're never coming back

and the genie is so far out of the bottle,

tearing thru New York City streets at full throttle,

like an instant revelation,

heading Station to Station;

so hey man, wham bam and thank you ma'am.

if you're tired of this channel and think you're gonna switch,

come back tomorrow same time to see the traveling Queen Bitch!

so take your time; it's a special home delivery:

you can eat whatever you see!

and whenever you take a look inside,

it'll be a Rock n Roll Suicide.

everything written on the wall

and just to be clear

there's a lot of heartbreak!

for goodness sake

it's true,

everything written on the wall

with a sharp pen

writing down to the raw,

the expansive and the small.

and there are numerous stories of lost lovers

smothered under their personal covers,

still pointing to the stars,

dreaming of life on Mars;

but when you asked me for my hand

what i didn't understand

was that it was for all of me,

from the deepest roots to the highest part of the tree;

so i stayed wrapped in my bedroom bundle

blind to the promise of a galloping horse

picking and choosing his wildest course

unnamed and untamed

across the expansive prairie

feeling the deepest breath of free air

longing for a companion with which to share

everything written on the wall

with a sharp pen

writing down to the raw,

the expansive and the small.

the heat

the heat

on a Brittany beach

caught the tip of his penis

and turned it Code Red,

inflated it like a weather balloon

and off he went

into his desert-like tent like a Sheik

counting his conquests,

using his brushes and colors to paint the day

to camouflage his true intentions,

which were raw with hunger.

she was young and innocent,

and watched him grow while she shrank

meekly from the advances he made,

smiling with his magical Spanish eyes,

feeling the heat.

Life is a Journey

And we all belong

Somewhere

Everywhere

And it made me high

And it made me cry

traveling across Kansas
Where for just one moment
Everything was dust in the wind

Blowing in the wind

curling and swirling 
Within you and Without you

And when I pause 

you tie my shoe

and when you feel blue

I feel sad
And I never had doubt
We’d remember

to come together 
For U2
Are part of the people

As me
Free falling
Rock steady
Gratefully alive
And always,
I want to hold your hand
Look into your eyes while asking,
Can’t you hear my heart beat?
it’s beating for you,
Child in time,
Like smoke on the water
A wisp and a whisper
Like the Sounds of Silence
remaining close

like a friendly ghost 
Like a vision
And a visionary
And when you light up the candle
It will show you the way
To find the moment
You’ve been waiting for
All of your life

And we share

the butterflies flying in the air,

seeing gardens everywhere,

And we all belong.