a juicy little number
which one i can not tell
her colors were nearly perfect
inside her oyster shell
behind the door to Heaven
a full red glass of wine
her colors were nearly perfect
revealed in her design
we tripped into a concert
sound poured into my eyes
her colors were nearly perfect
they painted her in sighs
the bright cloud full of rainbows
each one a lovely sight
her colors were nearly perfect
i watched by candlelight
with morning soon approaching
i saw when i awoke
her colors were nearly perfect
delightful as she spoke
Cotopaxi, Ecuador (summer 2012)
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
a stupid joke
white knights
heavy in armor to the burning town
they rode uninhibited
smartly up the wasted hill
looking for another thrill
red-eyed charging down
slashing sword cuts and falling heads
young ladies
swept from beds
dust panicked by the winter storm
cold bodies once warm
oh, the blood blowing in the grass
blindly moving
traveling fast
and the drums and horns fingers playing
flags flapping in the breeze, swaying
the crippled air no flowers there
no pretty people stopped to stare
underneath their fallen sky
no effort to explain
no one left to try
that last bite of bread around
each mouth without a sound
an element in the darkest smoke
a distant laughing
a stupid joke
"dead dirt roads lead nowhere,"
said Mr Hungry to I don't care:
and this became the final end
my bewildered friend.
heavy in armor to the burning town
they rode uninhibited
smartly up the wasted hill
looking for another thrill
red-eyed charging down
slashing sword cuts and falling heads
young ladies
swept from beds
dust panicked by the winter storm
cold bodies once warm
oh, the blood blowing in the grass
blindly moving
traveling fast
and the drums and horns fingers playing
flags flapping in the breeze, swaying
the crippled air no flowers there
no pretty people stopped to stare
underneath their fallen sky
no effort to explain
no one left to try
that last bite of bread around
each mouth without a sound
an element in the darkest smoke
a distant laughing
a stupid joke
"dead dirt roads lead nowhere,"
said Mr Hungry to I don't care:
and this became the final end
my bewildered friend.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Fall just takes my breath away
Our beginning wasn't really the beginning;
it only seemed that way since
the eye was fooled by the rising tide.
Your mind reassembled traditional
elements and showed me a completely
new composition, which helped
conquer my fear of the impossible sea.
My mind wondered what was real
between the said and the seen.
Your colors unique,
circled my listening ear.
The quiet bedroom wall and
the stone fireplace beside the
extraordinary autumn rug,
kept us rapt.
One hard head and one bright egg
wrestled on the soft fat pillows
in front of a red oak blaze, where
only the most prominent
could tickle the Universe.
And i believed in you completely,
because no abstraction walked in hiking shoes
instead of conservative sneakers.
When a person emerged from between the lines
it was hard to say who imitated nature best,
but we sang full-throat ed and
never the same song twice.
Moments began to pass when I would
gasp for air without you.
It's impossible to escape the questions,
but it is possible to find tension
where the sun
becomes an expanding green spot
on a strange white canvas with a
painted black curve reaching inward.
Your words in my throat,
looking for their answer,
know i am back from the war.
But when you want to see me, you can call me and
tell me so.
Fall just takes my breath away.
it only seemed that way since
the eye was fooled by the rising tide.
Your mind reassembled traditional
elements and showed me a completely
new composition, which helped
conquer my fear of the impossible sea.
My mind wondered what was real
between the said and the seen.
Your colors unique,
circled my listening ear.
The quiet bedroom wall and
the stone fireplace beside the
extraordinary autumn rug,
kept us rapt.
One hard head and one bright egg
wrestled on the soft fat pillows
in front of a red oak blaze, where
only the most prominent
could tickle the Universe.
And i believed in you completely,
because no abstraction walked in hiking shoes
instead of conservative sneakers.
When a person emerged from between the lines
it was hard to say who imitated nature best,
but we sang full-throat ed and
never the same song twice.
Moments began to pass when I would
gasp for air without you.
It's impossible to escape the questions,
but it is possible to find tension
where the sun
becomes an expanding green spot
on a strange white canvas with a
painted black curve reaching inward.
Your words in my throat,
looking for their answer,
know i am back from the war.
But when you want to see me, you can call me and
tell me so.
Fall just takes my breath away.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Pablo before 1943 or after
When his beret basque tumbled,
I saw the minotaur
Down on his knees
With a young lover in his head.
Moments before he
Had been sitting
With an older fur coat, her square
Shoulders set by a heavy jaw
Inside a small restaurant
Much-frequented by
His friends.
This Paris cafe sold everything in limited quantity,
Even refugees from
The history of art.
Near it's front door
A pair of blue windows
Against the slight evening breeze
Stood open.
There, warm flesh and
Cool champagne
Talked of anything on
The interior courtyard where
Pigeons with peas,
One fair and one dark,
Were disguised as young girls.
Miscellaneous clutter
Atop a checked tablecloth
Included the sculpture of a skull.
White costumes and pale faces looked
For the slightest gesture
To take on meaning.
An other-worldly atmosphere
Could be felt on the winding stairs,
where Matisse went to find an idea
about something French.
A yellow lemon and many glasses
Remained on the long table,
under which Malraux could be seen hiding.
"Come," the wounded minotaur finally
Whispered to her tapering fingers,
"Because you find me interesting."
I saw the minotaur
Down on his knees
With a young lover in his head.
Moments before he
Had been sitting
With an older fur coat, her square
Shoulders set by a heavy jaw
Inside a small restaurant
Much-frequented by
His friends.
This Paris cafe sold everything in limited quantity,
Even refugees from
The history of art.
Near it's front door
A pair of blue windows
Against the slight evening breeze
Stood open.
There, warm flesh and
Cool champagne
Talked of anything on
The interior courtyard where
Pigeons with peas,
One fair and one dark,
Were disguised as young girls.
Miscellaneous clutter
Atop a checked tablecloth
Included the sculpture of a skull.
White costumes and pale faces looked
For the slightest gesture
To take on meaning.
An other-worldly atmosphere
Could be felt on the winding stairs,
where Matisse went to find an idea
about something French.
A yellow lemon and many glasses
Remained on the long table,
under which Malraux could be seen hiding.
"Come," the wounded minotaur finally
Whispered to her tapering fingers,
"Because you find me interesting."
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
not missing the two
look to me
i can give it to you
no one will notice what we're doing
they haven't a clue
walking to Paradise
while missing a shoe
but we're not missing a beat
i felt you
heard you come on to me
my wooden spoon fell to the floor
i enjoyed my tea
watching the water boil
while missing the three
but we're not missing the two
Friday, October 14, 2011
I can feel the hug
It's what is felt
That hurts the most,
And not having you
Except as a ghost
In private moments
Short and spare
When I allow myself to know
That you're not there
You won't be coming home again
Late or soon
But I see you smiling
On the rising moon
I'm alone and was given
No simple choice;
Yet when the room is quiet
I can often hear your voice
Then looking everywhere
Under chair, and bed, and rug
I can't find you anywhere
But I can feel the hug.
That hurts the most,
And not having you
Except as a ghost
In private moments
Short and spare
When I allow myself to know
That you're not there
You won't be coming home again
Late or soon
But I see you smiling
On the rising moon
I'm alone and was given
No simple choice;
Yet when the room is quiet
I can often hear your voice
Then looking everywhere
Under chair, and bed, and rug
I can't find you anywhere
But I can feel the hug.
Monday, October 10, 2011
was his art
The cigarette
near the coffee cup
on the square white table top
exhaled toward Picasso
a puff of anguish
for his heart.
A salty tear
rising from one chair
wore the hideous mask
and an immortal series
of a weeping woman
was born in torment.
She saw Mother
and dead Spanish babies
underneath the rubble
of a democratic dream
bombed in 1939
by a Fascist imbecile.
And the painting
became a statement
before the sudden fall of Paris in June
and his fading thought of Dora:
a lonely eye drawn on her sobbing cheek.
In fact he knew
with more than dreaming
that the only thing that counted
in his life
was his art.
near the coffee cup
on the square white table top
exhaled toward Picasso
a puff of anguish
for his heart.
A salty tear
rising from one chair
wore the hideous mask
and an immortal series
of a weeping woman
was born in torment.
She saw Mother
and dead Spanish babies
underneath the rubble
of a democratic dream
bombed in 1939
by a Fascist imbecile.
And the painting
became a statement
before the sudden fall of Paris in June
and his fading thought of Dora:
a lonely eye drawn on her sobbing cheek.
In fact he knew
with more than dreaming
that the only thing that counted
in his life
was his art.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
when the music stopped
Near the shadow
long legs of an Argentine dancer
under breasts without a cover
lift for my inquiring touch.
Behind me in the soft twilight
the marble stairs
and Greek Doric columns
smell old and masculine.
And she formed a simple tango
with her musical movements
on the second step
while I held the note.
On the near floor a white piano
with black keys
to open her heart
if I should want to.
Two swans appeared
on the terrace
which she noticed
only moments before.
Two sides of the same coin
rolled over
my tapping foot
without making a decision.
A bowl of cherries
held in her hands
was offered to me
along with three glasses.
But nothing kept her happy
when the music stopped.
long legs of an Argentine dancer
under breasts without a cover
lift for my inquiring touch.
Behind me in the soft twilight
the marble stairs
and Greek Doric columns
smell old and masculine.
And she formed a simple tango
with her musical movements
on the second step
while I held the note.
On the near floor a white piano
with black keys
to open her heart
if I should want to.
Two swans appeared
on the terrace
which she noticed
only moments before.
Two sides of the same coin
rolled over
my tapping foot
without making a decision.
A bowl of cherries
held in her hands
was offered to me
along with three glasses.
But nothing kept her happy
when the music stopped.
this intersection
the dials on my watch
pester me
with an urge for speed
instead of languor.
it was so when i thought
of the twinkle in your eyes
as i slowed
into this intersection.
the mid-day traffic
honked like geese
on some confusing journey
without a map.
their flight leader
twisting his head
looked for the horizon
which wasn't there.
i sat in my car
in traffic
when i saw your face
through my rear view mirror.
in this short period
i heard their motors reverberate
with anticipation
while you fell asleep.
pester me
with an urge for speed
instead of languor.
it was so when i thought
of the twinkle in your eyes
as i slowed
into this intersection.
the mid-day traffic
honked like geese
on some confusing journey
without a map.
their flight leader
twisting his head
looked for the horizon
which wasn't there.
i sat in my car
in traffic
when i saw your face
through my rear view mirror.
in this short period
i heard their motors reverberate
with anticipation
while you fell asleep.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
farm boy
farm boy came with his plow
the girl pointed to her garden
a red dawn tickled the hillside
where they stretched
hand in hand
watching for snakes
they were a good match
digging in the dirt
pulling weeds
planting seed
and watering the grapes
before a harvest
mushrooms grew on their feet
when they ran into the woods
cheese crumbs on the trail
where they walked
smelled of winter
as they stopped to drink
the girl pointed to her garden
a red dawn tickled the hillside
where they stretched
hand in hand
watching for snakes
they were a good match
digging in the dirt
pulling weeds
planting seed
and watering the grapes
before a harvest
mushrooms grew on their feet
when they ran into the woods
cheese crumbs on the trail
where they walked
smelled of winter
as they stopped to drink
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Kurt
On a snowy night mid-December
Kurt Vonnegut
climbed into my room
with heavy heart and a deep sigh.
i was sitting on my folding chair
close to a wood fire
watching my empty cup.
i had expected him before seven,
and it was now eleven,
but his mustache told me he was
running late.
he said he had been trapped inside a woman's wall
where there is usually no escape,
unless one is an author
with a quick wit and an even quicker pen.
he settled easily on the floor,
and turned to face me before he spoke.
his first words softly whispered were
"Hocus Pocus."
his white hands cautiously folded in prayer.
i noticed a small atomic bomb on one index finger.
i told him i dreamed of time travel.
he wished me good luck,
no matter how bad things got.
i asked him about his wounded knee,
since i saw him limp.
he told me about Dresden,
and in a voice filled with ghosts,
said "It was a crematorium."
we both fell silent.
Kurt Vonnegut
climbed into my room
with heavy heart and a deep sigh.
i was sitting on my folding chair
close to a wood fire
watching my empty cup.
i had expected him before seven,
and it was now eleven,
but his mustache told me he was
running late.
he said he had been trapped inside a woman's wall
where there is usually no escape,
unless one is an author
with a quick wit and an even quicker pen.
he settled easily on the floor,
and turned to face me before he spoke.
his first words softly whispered were
"Hocus Pocus."
his white hands cautiously folded in prayer.
i noticed a small atomic bomb on one index finger.
i told him i dreamed of time travel.
he wished me good luck,
no matter how bad things got.
i asked him about his wounded knee,
since i saw him limp.
he told me about Dresden,
and in a voice filled with ghosts,
said "It was a crematorium."
we both fell silent.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
transcendent
transcendent
in my dream
you sang a song
and i heard every word wrong
walking alone
wherever i go
and it doesn't seem to matter
if i can never know
into the sky
under the rain
you're laughing at me
but never explain
well i always answered the call
riding my horse into the storm
where you tempted me with your embrace
but it never kept me warm
there is a shadow on the road
but it doesn't look like my face
and when the sun wipes away your smile
you're gone without a trace
transcendent
in my dream
you sang a song
and i heard every word wrong
walking alone
wherever i go
and it doesn't seem to matter
if i can never know
into the sky
under the rain
you're laughing at me
but never explain
in my dream
you sang a song
and i heard every word wrong
walking alone
wherever i go
and it doesn't seem to matter
if i can never know
into the sky
under the rain
you're laughing at me
but never explain
well i always answered the call
riding my horse into the storm
where you tempted me with your embrace
but it never kept me warm
there is a shadow on the road
but it doesn't look like my face
and when the sun wipes away your smile
you're gone without a trace
transcendent
in my dream
you sang a song
and i heard every word wrong
walking alone
wherever i go
and it doesn't seem to matter
if i can never know
into the sky
under the rain
you're laughing at me
but never explain
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Coyote was running
Coyote was running
under a Comanche moon
over the drifting sand
of a Texas coastal dune.
Small horses charged
into a settlement,
killing and stealing
and off they went.
Rifles were firing;
Indians disappeared,
but no one was chasing
since scalping they feared.
Northwest of Austin
into expansive plains,
riding their mustangs
with Buffalo reins.
Arrows and lances,
horsemanship skills,
whooping and charging
over Red River hills.
White man was coming
with Blue coats and schemes
into this frontier
rolled American dreams.
Flooding the prairie
were cabins and farms,
destroying the tipis and
medicine man's charms.
Reservation living
but barely alive,
beaten into submission
by the Colt .45.
under a Comanche moon
over the drifting sand
of a Texas coastal dune.
Small horses charged
into a settlement,
killing and stealing
and off they went.
Rifles were firing;
Indians disappeared,
but no one was chasing
since scalping they feared.
Northwest of Austin
into expansive plains,
riding their mustangs
with Buffalo reins.
Arrows and lances,
horsemanship skills,
whooping and charging
over Red River hills.
White man was coming
with Blue coats and schemes
into this frontier
rolled American dreams.
Flooding the prairie
were cabins and farms,
destroying the tipis and
medicine man's charms.
Reservation living
but barely alive,
beaten into submission
by the Colt .45.
Jersey Girl
on Saturday night
i took my Jersey Girl to a local fight
she used to have an overbite
but her daddy paid the doctor's price
he worked to make her postcard right
but now she finally tried to see
another man to enslave was me
as we walked the streets of center Philly
and i didn't have a single cent
though she certainly had more than three
she wore her thick & wavy hair
in the Hollywood style of debonair
always checking that it was there
she stuck bright extensions in for fun
demanded attention everywhere
her dancing friends floated and smiled
acting silly like a pampered child
if things were normal they went wild
she tossed me like a ball and chain
even though we've reconciled.
i took my Jersey Girl to a local fight
she used to have an overbite
but her daddy paid the doctor's price
he worked to make her postcard right
but now she finally tried to see
another man to enslave was me
as we walked the streets of center Philly
and i didn't have a single cent
though she certainly had more than three
she wore her thick & wavy hair
in the Hollywood style of debonair
always checking that it was there
she stuck bright extensions in for fun
demanded attention everywhere
her dancing friends floated and smiled
acting silly like a pampered child
if things were normal they went wild
she tossed me like a ball and chain
even though we've reconciled.
Monday, September 19, 2011
whose sustainability is it?
it totally depends on the energy
and the population
because when energy declines
as the global population continues its'
exponential growth trajectory
the shit will hit the fan
the collapse will be swift
the fall treacherous
the die-off immense
no, you will not be able to buy another
box of Cracker Jacks
or a shiny new Cadillac Escalade.
learn to plant and cultivate and
harvest on a small piece of fertile soil,
for a first step.
and the population
because when energy declines
as the global population continues its'
exponential growth trajectory
the shit will hit the fan
the collapse will be swift
the fall treacherous
the die-off immense
no, you will not be able to buy another
box of Cracker Jacks
or a shiny new Cadillac Escalade.
learn to plant and cultivate and
harvest on a small piece of fertile soil,
for a first step.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
a slow journey
everyday of my life i wonder why
i have one blue eye
and one green
which can't be seen
and when i stop to turn
i wonder if i'll ever learn
when i want to share your walking
i'm crazy to hear you talking
but when i think i have no choice
i can always feel the softness in your voice
the warm touch
it feels so much
the smile
and i'd gladly walk a mile
to have you in my arms as i awake
anything will do if it's not fake
a dance in the rain on our private shore
by the ocean where we search for more
on a slow journey
of discovery just you and me
there are no reasons to wish for speed
each moment together is all i need
a finger hold while standing near
little things i most treasure dear
everyday of my life i wonder why
i have one blue eye
and one green
which can't be seen
i have one blue eye
and one green
which can't be seen
and when i stop to turn
i wonder if i'll ever learn
when i want to share your walking
i'm crazy to hear you talking
but when i think i have no choice
i can always feel the softness in your voice
the warm touch
it feels so much
the smile
and i'd gladly walk a mile
to have you in my arms as i awake
anything will do if it's not fake
a dance in the rain on our private shore
by the ocean where we search for more
on a slow journey
of discovery just you and me
there are no reasons to wish for speed
each moment together is all i need
a finger hold while standing near
little things i most treasure dear
everyday of my life i wonder why
i have one blue eye
and one green
which can't be seen
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
"a little nation." LBJ
that last night
i wrote you a letter
before i fell
i told you war is hell
but you were far away
preoccupied
how could i know
i had one more day to go
to learn about war
the hard business
of killing men
over and over again
in uniform or not
mostly unrehearsed
i wore my boots with pride
weeks before i died
not too old
still young and strong
but had you seen me die
there was no question in my eye.
i wrote you a letter
before i fell
i told you war is hell
but you were far away
preoccupied
how could i know
i had one more day to go
to learn about war
the hard business
of killing men
over and over again
in uniform or not
mostly unrehearsed
i wore my boots with pride
weeks before i died
not too old
still young and strong
but had you seen me die
there was no question in my eye.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
"We do not want a war." JFK
GOD DAMN
violent concussive flames
silhouette a
smoking black mountain
with
sprays of raw dirty white explosions
shaking nervous bodies
underneath a gentle blue sky
where only faint hints of stormy weather
could be seen in a disturbing combat zone.
LATER,
i'm resting on my right knee in
a half squat near a hard-packed dirt road
surrounded by a score of uniformed
young men without hats holding safety-off
automatic weapons.
with side doors fully open a single huey helicopter
is flaring for a close-in landing while a
door gunner is resting his left hand on the stock
of an M60 machine gun, barrel pointed directly towards
the ground, eyes alert.
we are American soldiers far away from our home listening to the
wild thump thump of the rotor blades while waiting,
waiting for a ride out of this dusty doomed place.
i notice the dirt on my boots is red,
the dust is red,
the surrounding air is red.
my face is red,
the grass is red,
but my mouth is dry
violent concussive flames
silhouette a
smoking black mountain
with
sprays of raw dirty white explosions
shaking nervous bodies
underneath a gentle blue sky
where only faint hints of stormy weather
could be seen in a disturbing combat zone.
LATER,
i'm resting on my right knee in
a half squat near a hard-packed dirt road
surrounded by a score of uniformed
young men without hats holding safety-off
automatic weapons.
with side doors fully open a single huey helicopter
is flaring for a close-in landing while a
door gunner is resting his left hand on the stock
of an M60 machine gun, barrel pointed directly towards
the ground, eyes alert.
we are American soldiers far away from our home listening to the
wild thump thump of the rotor blades while waiting,
waiting for a ride out of this dusty doomed place.
i notice the dirt on my boots is red,
the dust is red,
the surrounding air is red.
my face is red,
the grass is red,
but my mouth is dry
and everything feels sad.
Monday, September 12, 2011
tango on the floor
the tango on the floor
two by four
near the bay window on the far side of a wall
you asked me if i wanted more
and i wanted it all
oh, i knew the game was being played in full view
the dancers in the ball room acted like they always do
but
i wanted to think like a star
streaking across the sky
never to feel another hurt
never to hear another lie
you said you wanted me again but i couldn't tell
would you always love me if i tripped and fell
i saw a portion of your book and tried to read a page
you said you were thinking of love but on another stage
there was music flowing on the wind like heated air
i could taste the kisses but couldn't find you there
but
i wanted to think like a star
streaking across the sky
never to feel another hurt
never to hear another lie
the tango on the floor
two by four
near the bay window on the far side of a wall
you asked me if i wanted more
and i wanted it all
two by four
near the bay window on the far side of a wall
you asked me if i wanted more
and i wanted it all
oh, i knew the game was being played in full view
the dancers in the ball room acted like they always do
but
i wanted to think like a star
streaking across the sky
never to feel another hurt
never to hear another lie
you said you wanted me again but i couldn't tell
would you always love me if i tripped and fell
i saw a portion of your book and tried to read a page
you said you were thinking of love but on another stage
there was music flowing on the wind like heated air
i could taste the kisses but couldn't find you there
but
i wanted to think like a star
streaking across the sky
never to feel another hurt
never to hear another lie
the tango on the floor
two by four
near the bay window on the far side of a wall
you asked me if i wanted more
and i wanted it all
Sunday, September 11, 2011
the fat man
the fat man sat
on a trail-side bench
while he sang to himself
'It won't get dark"
at 3 o'clock on a sunny afternoon.
he had no other words.
he kept repeating his refrain.
he tried to convince me of this
prophesy
while I was
walking past, and i saw the king's tower
straight ahead where i had parked my car,
so i kept walking.
now, hours later
it is dark and raining, which i can
see and hear and feel and smell.
i wonder where the fat man is.
on a trail-side bench
while he sang to himself
'It won't get dark"
at 3 o'clock on a sunny afternoon.
he had no other words.
he kept repeating his refrain.
he tried to convince me of this
prophesy
while I was
walking past, and i saw the king's tower
straight ahead where i had parked my car,
so i kept walking.
now, hours later
it is dark and raining, which i can
see and hear and feel and smell.
i wonder where the fat man is.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
by his side
you are with someone
by his side
i have no where to hide
feeling the flames of a fire
as they grow higher
in a cabin by the lake
in the night
i still see candlelight
and your shadow on the wall
i can not see it all
i can see your voice
and your smile
i'll just stay here a while
counting petals on a rose
as desperation grows
you are with someone
by his side
i think that i have died
underneath the North star
wondering if i've come too far
i can hear you say
time to leave
and i can barely breathe
watching slowly as you rise
i can see your brown eyes
you are with someone
by his side
by his side
i have no where to hide
feeling the flames of a fire
as they grow higher
in a cabin by the lake
in the night
i still see candlelight
and your shadow on the wall
i can not see it all
i can see your voice
and your smile
i'll just stay here a while
counting petals on a rose
as desperation grows
you are with someone
by his side
i think that i have died
underneath the North star
wondering if i've come too far
i can hear you say
time to leave
and i can barely breathe
watching slowly as you rise
i can see your brown eyes
you are with someone
by his side
Thursday, September 8, 2011
cathie brown
sweet cathie brown
spread her reputation on the town
she showed her hand in confidence
appearing calm but she felt tense
said she came from out of state
would love to talk
was running late
she couldn't really concentrate
she had a lover and a date
they both were waiting on her plate.
spread her reputation on the town
she showed her hand in confidence
appearing calm but she felt tense
said she came from out of state
would love to talk
was running late
she couldn't really concentrate
she had a lover and a date
they both were waiting on her plate.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
when i'm 63
flowing white cape
deep dark nights
a band uniform with red stripes
playing in the streets
until i'm 63
when i saved the Queen
and she saved me
deep in my heart
i'm in a good mood
outrageous not randomly rude
spending my money
until i'm 64
when i'll find pennies
left on the floor
won't you come close
to my bicycle
it's my soul duty to tickle
piano keys and ladies
until i'm 65
while i'm still living
and fully alive
deep dark nights
a band uniform with red stripes
playing in the streets
until i'm 63
when i saved the Queen
and she saved me
deep in my heart
i'm in a good mood
outrageous not randomly rude
spending my money
until i'm 64
when i'll find pennies
left on the floor
won't you come close
to my bicycle
it's my soul duty to tickle
piano keys and ladies
until i'm 65
while i'm still living
and fully alive
Monday, September 5, 2011
love slowly
johnnie and millie were paranoid
sucking on their Valium thumb
they didn't act like grown-ups
thinking that would be dumb
so softly walking thru the waste land
in a stormy night they'd pretend
and they made love slowly
hoping it might never end
why did they want to leave this place?
they didn't hang around
and they made love slowly
never making a sound
i saw them dance around a wild fire
they told me wait a while
and they made love slowly
only wearing a smile
what did they see in each other?
their breathing full of charms
and they made love slowly
always in each other's arms
i heard them promise everything
laughing beneath the moon
and they made love slowly
never ending never soon
i could wish this for everyone
special gifts romantically
and they made love slowly
drifting out to sea
sucking on their Valium thumb
they didn't act like grown-ups
thinking that would be dumb
so softly walking thru the waste land
in a stormy night they'd pretend
and they made love slowly
hoping it might never end
why did they want to leave this place?
they didn't hang around
and they made love slowly
never making a sound
i saw them dance around a wild fire
they told me wait a while
and they made love slowly
only wearing a smile
what did they see in each other?
their breathing full of charms
and they made love slowly
always in each other's arms
i heard them promise everything
laughing beneath the moon
and they made love slowly
never ending never soon
i could wish this for everyone
special gifts romantically
and they made love slowly
drifting out to sea
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Jessica in Madrid, Spring 2006
daughter is empowering herself