Monday, September 24, 2012

For Alex. and me.

We're just a hop skip and a twinkle away 
 from a magical day
 a magical way of living. 
 We're happy to say 
we've run away from a bad day 
a scary way of living. 

Come take a bow! Take my hand!
Let's run away to a land 
they say it's grand 
they say it's got it's own band 
of bandits. 

You and me and maybe a dragonfly 
I've packed a picnic of huckleberry pie 
and happy tears for our eyes 
for this is where darkness dies 
forever. 

I'll wear my dress, you wear your suit 
I'll wear a hat, you, your nautical boots 
and not much else, b'cause you're in cahoots 
with nature and all its fruits 
and honey. 

I'll sneak behind trees 
I'll tickle bees 
you'll laugh and I'll sneeze 
as we're chased by a fabulous breeze 
and we'll eat the moon. 

We'll ride on candy rivers 
Kiss our fingers covered in slivers 
from the popcorn the clouds deliver
it's devilish stuff, 
it nips and it nods. 

We'll laugh and forget our woes 
with forget-me-nots between our toes 
my hair covered in ribbons and bows 
yours wreathed in daisy chains that grow and grow. 

We'll run into the sunset and melt in the fiery waves 
For our hearts are sugary and easily concave 
beneath shadow and sadness, so please save 
some sunlight for us. 

Come, come! Run away 
into that fiery day 
that fantastic forest 
that leaps before us 
and we shall sing sweet songs 
beneath the fiery leaves 
all the night long and they shall whisper, 'never leave! Never leave!' 
and so we never shall.

Monday, August 27, 2012

Burial Ground

I started writing this song a long time ago...I just found it again. I know now what I didn't know then. I'm not a lyricist. I'm a poet. But maybe that'll lead to lyricism. mhmm. I drove down to the beach Walked along the stoney ground It wasn't long before you came along and stole my soul I walked on an Indian burial ground my soul, my soul was buried with you you took my heart what a way to start this love the end, the end it came too soon now it's just the stars and moon looking at another night because you're gone, lost beneath the sand chorus your heart's right stuck in the middle of your chest but you say that you know best you've never felt like this before your heart rots, it's burnt to the core but you say you know best, you say you've seen it all before

Monday, Bloody Monday

I just had a 1960s movie moment. The song was playing, that one from an old movie. And there was a guy with long hair that I hadn't seen in ages. He didn't have long hair last time. And there was a guy with a beard. A long beard. And I was rocking the Zooey Deschanel hair cut. I'm sure she wasn't the first to rock it but she's made it famous for this generation. I felt happy and I went into the lou I decided I had a fabulous body. And I didn't care who read my ramblings. And I just wanted to draw and have those creations cover people's walls. And that I wasn't happy and I wanted to do something about it. And that this town, oh this town, is such a kill joy but it wasn't gonna kill my joy. Look out world I got excited for 2 minutes there. Let's make it last.

Monday, October 24, 2011

counting sheep

You make me want to sing the blues
untied my shoes, tied 'em up again
You make me want to laugh. Loud
I stood in the crowd. But I didn't stand out
You make me want to cry before I sleep
as if counting sheep wasn't painful enough
I close my eyes, try to forget
but you can bet, that I will remember
You've made me like a hollow bird
just say the word, and I'll float
I blink.
I think, maybe this time
I stare at my empty hand
Maybe he'll understand, but I doubt he's real
I'd wear you like my favorite shirt
you'd treat me like dirt, whatever
I'd knit you a scarf for winter days
you'd say it's just a phase and throw it out
I like to whisper your name at sunset
You'd rather caress the frets of your guitar
I light candles in remembrance of you
You say we're through, without saying a word
I raise my glass, I raise my fist
I'm pissed to say the least
You made me want to sing the blues
untied my shoes, threw them at you
you made me want to laugh. Loud.
I stood in the crowd. And laughed as I walked away
You made me want to cry before I slept
but now I've kept count of those sheep
and you've fallen short.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

of imaginary

You try to make me forget the moon
but it shines through my window
forming a box on my floor
pointing at my door
beckoning me to dance in its rays
it wants so much to warm me
but the sun has stolen
the thing that would make it golden

I sit alone. Again.
I've grown accustomed to the moon
as my friend
the stars my allies
they are the ones that see me when I cry
hear me when I sing sweet songs
of pretend.
Of imaginary
of someday

and now I'm writin' words for an imaginary audience.
You might read it
she might read it
and it might stir something
but that's not why I write.
Maybe it is sometimes.
Maybe I make rhymes
hoping for some face to appear
at my window
like romeo
like juliet
I don't know yet
which one I am
I'm tired of you sayin' this is who I am
I may have skin that's white
but white is just white
not the absence of light
maybe that's why I write
to make no sense
just to sound poetic
to get you to stop and think
maybe it's pathetic
but you're thinking
about the moon
now. Aren't you?

Hopefully you'll dance in her moonbeams
and sing a little song
dance dance the whole dark long

what's in a name

you know what I think?

I think you think you know

what it is to be a dancer.

you think I'm all pink

and tutus inside

that the swoosh on my Nikes

is just a symbol of swag

that my duffel bag

is full of soy cheese

and weight-loss bars

but let me tell you

that I've come this far

by the sweat of my brow

by the ache of my knees

the pain in my shoulder

the back flips, the splits

the groans, the moans

of yesterday's warm up.

Let's see you do 75 sit ups

after 100 push ups

let's see you lift those legs

180 degrees, thank you

girl please!

I work my butt off, literally

let me see you, come on let's see ya

Werk! with a capital start

let's see you play the part

of ath-e-lete ar-teest

this dancer's a beast

with grace.

I am proud of my muscles

my calves wide and strong

I've got good legs, hell they ain't long

but they can kick worth beans.

my lungs burstin' at the seams

dances back to back

we break our back

are you not entertained?!



I call them artists.

I call them athletes.

Smart. Funny. Beautiful.

dancers.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

paperwork.

here I sat stuffin' envelopes
I wondered if there was something
beyond this
I hoped there was something
but I think it's just an envelope
with corners, sharp edges
and a seal.
that holds dreams in
till the receiver receives
breaks the hold
and bam! dreams unfold
and paper cuts abide.
I still just think it's an envelope
with strangers' names
and other zip codes
lick and stick
peel.
bump and grind
bump up your pay
9 dollars a day
grind at the grindstone
you'll make more friends
this way.
Saving pennies cuz that's all
you've got left
you're cat's gone crazy
and you're dealing with identity theft
buy more stock
stock up on cheese
and wine
because you just got another
parking ticket
and you can't pay the fine.
But it's in an envelope
so you can't see it
so you can write poetry on the back of it
cuz maybe this is it
Like Michael J. said
only 4 more minutes...
ding! TV dinner's done
and you sit down
tryin' to unwind
this web of lies
you've spun
about your gym membership that's expired
and your new iPad 4 and a half
and the diet you created which will create
a multi-billion dollar market.
you need to start that business plan
outline.
next week.
the proposal's in an envelope.
so is your grandmother's birthday card you never delivered
A wish you well blessing that was never heard
but it's in an envelope so they'll
never know.