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These are some poems and lyrics - usually from current projects - that will appear here and change regularly. All are under copyright, of course so any use other than that for which I have contractually given my permission is expressly forbidden. Again, thanks for reading and commenting if you happen to... POETRY: The Boys Iraq It's Friday and Ted Working the Woman Home Leaving San Francisco Mother LYRICS: Snippet of new lyrics for "Parking at Bell Creek" Snippet from "Planning Disasters" Marilyn Jump Me The Boys (back to top) ANDREW The nuns told us about how many angels dance on a needle. I don’t remember the number, but it’s getting time to teach him God and he asks me why don’t skeletons go up to God And I say JAMESON Says: “Daddy, I kicked in the snow fort, see?” Startled, delighted. I see. Son, I think, me too. Before they could melt I kicked in all of them. JOSEPH We played football against your brothers on the lawn and I dragged you up by your coat as I pushed them back giggling hysterically so you would score. We all knew you would have otherwise run the wrong way looking for your opening IRAQ (back to top) Deafening no first sound no last warning all fall down It went off leveled towns where they bled only ground Ground grown over open wound smoothed and groomed. Join the service see the world make a difference meet a girl Settle in solid ground What goes up must come down Cowering heroes valiant gone children murdered pretty songs Patriotic empty speeches stubborn postures silenced teachers Digging earth wringing hands angry vows burning sands History must exhume the plot few have most more have not Continue as you always have you are good they are bad No retreat black despair sudden bombings be prepared Living only for the day excusing actions based on faith Overplenty feeds the pride poverty conquers no one hides When you drop to your knee forgiveness? First , humility Now the stranger wants some too coming to a town near you In the mirror overweight unrecognizable sorry state Who is this? Now the sound warnings over : All fall down. It's Friday and Ted (back to top) My father in law was all heart he cried for missing old friends who drank with him, he worked at the factory and drank a lot. Boilermakers, drop the shot glass into your beer and drink it down. I coughed, smiled. Trying to be his buddy. When he had to retire because of the cancer he sat in the living room with his coat and hat on watching TV M*A*S*H too and I explained how their comments did not make fun of war or America. Only the idiocy of war. He agreed said I was smart and he never got the chance because “listen to me now, believe me” his dad never talked to him like he did to me. He did, even though I married his daughter six months after being homeless and sleeping on their couch, no job, only a degree. His heavy helpless silence in the living room. He would get drunk and sneak cigarettes in the garage, holding it away when you came in for something. Waiting like so many do for someone to save them from their boredom. Looking out to the street from the garage, sitting in a kitchen chair in the yard, staring through the window for the ones he would never see again, people he never told he loved them and swore he would make it up if they came back but he never would have, he would only have got drunk. Quit talking to me when I ended the marriage with his daughter because I hadn’t told him first. He hadn’t known how bad it was. When Ted died, his own son would confide that his father had never amounted to much. His father who worked in the factory to put his son through medical school. For his last eleven years, he never spoke to me again. As my son left the room for what would be the last time his grandpa lay in the bed waiting with an imaginary cigarette - I can see him now smoking the hallucinated things with his empty fingers formed that way - Ted called my son by my name. There was a blank space in the air My son waited. But his grandpa was dreaming of something else again. WORKING THE WOMAN HOME (back to top) Her long ago compromised elegance chalked, weathered , diminished by morning’s harsh radiance probing pores scaled with residual frock of fine ash. Busy home: glean debris, blemish and flaw - layers come away at the fuss. For foundation, blend texture, depths. For coat, use dyes from clays of drying ancient rivers : smooth base tones, subdue highlights, scheme organic shades. Understate. Brush, feather, etch : windows of the soul? Seal fissures, fill holes. To keep, make ready , trim, and file. Sand grits, work joints to withstand; cut to fit. repair nails, scrub, thin. Remove all traces. Apply lacquer, waxes and oil the arbitrary skin to foil. Patch, touch, tuck , firm mass. Stem time’s tide , contain chemistry against trespass. Shape , make suitable... In event of visitors, cowl , prepare arch indifference. Let sashes go. All lights out but one. Only a thief would know who this is for : WELCOME No peddlers. No solicitors. Leaving San Francisco (back to top) Up to speed and the surface of the earth blurs then we climb from the tarmac and everything slows, becoming defined. Clearer as we get further away Floating above low buildings, boxes, hills and rugged flats overlain with tapes of highway roundhousing underneath the plane banking: access, exit , flows clotting arteries and one last time, over teeming jumble power line, drought-worn hunkering vertebrae of the lower bay in powdered light settlements nuzzling in the draws, my country girl, mistress of contradiction, I’m leaving you. Here , up here... Where the city is pleasant to gaze upon, hospitably clutching wooded greens and fashionable restorations like a bright sweater folded in a lap. We circle the masts of the financial district , triumphant armada, and somewhere you on a bus headed home, unaware, this moment nearly asleep at the glinting window, my plane a spot in your sky. MOTHER (back to top) I have taught people things and learned in the intervening while that often the student only brings what they have and know, and that much later, without a thought of their teacher, by fate or some other unseen hand, something connects, the bell rings and they understand. Your quiet example and wisdom now that I can look back over time looks like teaching, and learning is my kingdom that I pass to others, who have never paid attention, or when they took it in, seemed it made any difference at all but I forget so easily the lesson is done when I have touched someone who, celebrating life, presents what they know to someone else. Not until then, even when it doesn’t show, is my time on earth made whole. You have taught me to do right, to practice humility , to cherish life and learn and have faith my life would be full. You did it without saying anything , so I give the same to others knowing it’s you, my teacher, I owe. New Lyrics for "Parking at Bell Creek" (back to top) You have a rubic’s cube on the toilet tank they called you a rube in school you have your friend’s to thank. If there’s an explanation for madness only fools have ever told and fountains of youth are sought by the old. Chorus : There’s a rhyme to reason but no reason to rhyme cowards lie to please them who would rob them of their time. PLANNING DISASTERS (back to top) Though their marriage semmed a little premature they couldn’t wait to buy the furniture and planned their lives like thieves which can be exciting till someone leaves and nothing is covered by the draperies. MARILYN (back to top) Lead in with romantic piano notes, wandering , ramping up... Jude, to us: We talk about nothing particular ; I suck when making a pass. To her : Hey how’s it going? What grade are you in? To us : In her presence my brains drop into my ass... To her : It’s really cool the way...that thing...does that. To us : I’d make more sense uttering Latin at Mass. To her : Boy ain’t that weather doing....something? To us : With luck she’ll think I’m addicted to grass. Then the song begins with Jude: I was saying stuff to her and my ears began to ring. Her eyes fixed upon me. Her lips began that thing. My voice, knees, and guts wobbly as I’m crashing: Slow death by stupidity, can’t be romantic passion Marilyn: I said something unrelated to something else he said, I can’t control my thoughts now, my face is burning red! Waiting for him to drop in has been my occupation. Now that he’s actually here, I’m not sure I can take it. Chorus : Jude: She’s funny, I’m not. I’ve got shit for brains. Marilyn: I simply can’t communicate, my excitement feels like pain. Jude: She’s staring at me; can she smell my pits? Marilyn: He’s judging me because I’m not as intelligent as he is. Marilyn: I’m going off to college soon, and I get off at ten. Jude: I have aspirations too...You say you work till when?! Marilyn: I’m going to really miss our conversations. Jude (to us): The guys she could have instead of me could populate small nations. Chorus : Him: My throat gets dry... Marilyn: Look at those eyes... Him: What if we ever disagree? Marilyn: It’s all because of me! He’s had plenty of girls, I’ll bet, before this. Me:One who looked like an Shitzu , which wasn’t exactly bliss. Marilyn: I’ll walk home alone with my books, it’s completely safe. Jude : Today? Okay, I could walk too; I’ll stay out of your way... ( to us) I respect her too much, to act like she’d ever date me. Marilyn: (to herself) I can be myself with him, I know this was meant to be. Jump Me (back to top) LUG sings: Why I’ll bash you I’ll bend you till your break you’d best believe me, get out before too late, or else I’ll -- JUDE I believe you will. ( stunned , Lug waits) LUG Wait a minute. Do you know what I can do to you? JUDE Of course! Singing: You’ll jump me, you’ll wail on me a while, And then you’ll crunch me, and what it lacks in style... You’ll make up for in footwork My nose will end up crooked , Let me describe what transpires next: An uppercut, a jab, I’m totally wrecked. LUG You bet I’ll pound you, JUDE So would I if I were you! you runt end of the litter, you pile of dog poo. you might yet re-consider speaking words so hasty you act like you’ve gone crazy! Best pick on someone half your size : Or do you want your ass hanging out your eyes? JUDE Good advice! Bravo! Sings Chorus : I’ve always been a big mouth As anyone can attest I hate myself as much as you How someone like me makes it through Is anybody’s guess. Do with me what you must do And I will do the rest... JUDE : It’s no fuss! destroy me with precision exploit my weakness, such art in pugilism, deserves our full attention lest I forget to mention: if you can think of nothing to defend, it’s the honor that dishonor commends. LUG : No, hold up. He wants this more than me and isn’t frightened. How dumb would I have to be? He’ll paint me as a bully I’m comprehending fully: he’ll set me up to claim high ground If I don’t act and turn this thing around... Both Sing Chorus: A victory this lopsided No witness will disagree no one has seen the likes of this the joy of living by your fists is every good boy’s dream I’ll get this guy to fall for it and avoid my getting creamed JUDE: Sure, thump me, you’re statuesque when angry what can I tell ya - with sculptured genitalia. But you can’t outdo “pathetic,” even if you’re sympathetic , that ship of fools has already sailed! Beaten and defeated I prevail. LUG: Yes you’re right: I can’t believe I let you lose my temper if I make good on my threat You win by pacifism I’m no more than a criminal when you say you lived to tell a scary tale; I’d lose to win allowing you to fail! (back to top) |
