Friday, 29 June 2007


You're messing with my heartstrings and it seems out of tune
From now on no one touches these, I cry out to the moon
I'm safe and sound concealed packed within a hard-case shell
protected from the field where the players pitch and sell

I'm not a thing for tampering or trying on for size
we know the score, that love's encore is held back, no surprise
I wait upon the player whose waiting 'round for me
and holding back from the others, well we're cautious as can be

the hand which tunes these heart stings, that good and upright fellow
while waiting fpr the right one, knows with time all good things mellow
and he knows what I am made of, where I've been has hurt the wood
though he doesn't need perfection, knows his skill will do me good.

Messing with my heartstrings is a dicey thing to do
try to get too close and I will also run from you
yet troubles ought not make you hide away from every test
save your heartstrings for the one who handles them the best.

the worst of me

not a lot to think about
I seem so light and easy
but suddenly the clouds roll in
and feeling kind of queasy

I try to put the best of what i've got
out on the table
sometimes y'all want more and
and I'm like, "Hey I'm not your Mable!"

the winds are blowing up now
and the thunder's rolling in
I run and close the windows of my soul
but just can't win

and suddenly it's raining down
you'll have to wait it through
you should have seen the signs before
just like you always do

it beats upon this old tin roof
we're stuck inside together
you've slept right though this scene before
and understand my weather

pretty soon the rains let up
and skies begin to clear
the sunset's red and orange haze
means better days are near

We all have nasty weather
inner conficts you can't see
and when those storms come, brother
you weather the worst of me.

Thursday, 28 June 2007


"Gingerale, coke, lemon and lime
Don’t have a watch
Can't tell you the time
Iced Coffee with milk,
no sugar for me.
Don’t care for sweetners
Prefer caffeine-free

Used to drink Yoohoo
but can't seem to hold it
I've held in this heartache
it's high time I told it.
My father is cool
he trims up the hedges
Mom's kind of smooth
but rough 'round the edges

Once found a seashell
put it to my ear
all that I heard
was a-guzzlin' beer
guzzling beer
not what I expected
had me a Mexican
but soon he defected

Looked for him everywhere
thought he was nappin'
But he'd hit the pavement
Hirotchees were slappin
Somebody told me
he's back in Borrero
fryin' up churros
in a fancy sombrero

Dined on raw fish
with a Guido beguiled
'Till he told me he'd die
before having my child
Excuse me, I told him,
I think you are mistaken
I'd rather have triplets
by sexy Clay Aiken
Been burned before,
but I'm still kind of shocky
Swallowed my pride
and swore off the Saki

Low and behold
a dude who says "Schmatah"
unorthodox fella
who can't stomach matzah
Head full of curls nice Hebrew diction
believes in his heart
Aliens are nonfiction.
He ain’t into me
prefers to be single
Made sure my milk
and his meat didn't mingle.

Stopped into Quick-chek
to get me a bite
met up with 'ol Manny
who put up a fight
mountain of misery~terrble liar
asked for a bike
and he gave me a tire
Flattened but patched
my heart isn't aching
I think it's a sign
the thing was worth breaking

The back roads to Red Bank
are bumpy and narrow
hard on the bones
but good for the marrow
I looked at the clouds,
shook out the lining
can't see the forest
for all of my pining.
Ironic that shells
echo the sea
the old man he batters em

Mets beat the Yankees
what can I say?
wanted for nothing
nothing got in my way
Got up to stretch
Fell through the bleacher
and into the arms of a snake oil preacher.
Tinctures and ointments and warming love salve
can't erase lies and the memories I have.
Heard it before, how time is medicinal
But for healing the heart the price is additional

Beat for beat and measure for measure
grapes of gall and fermenting displeasure
tasted enough to know this can't be real
while mashing my heart in the search engine wheel
Not takin the road to that carneval ground
one more loney ride on the hairy-go-round
As for my heros and the asses I've pained
nothing is lost and everything gained."

Monday, 25 June 2007

my hands

My hands are scrubbed and rinsed
I do that several times a day~

my heart's just not convinced
these things can all be washed away~

You know just where I'm at
but it's the same thing every time~

I'll knelt there on the mat
repeating every prayerful line~

but I've got something else to say
and then, you might not want to hear
well can you look at me today
with all my anger, doubt and fear~

We found the will to live
and use our hands to heal a few~

I've got more love to give
and wrote the ending over too~

this fence is electric wired
but I'm tryin' to get across to you~

I write until I'm tired
my hands are burned and bleeding blue~

and so I raise them up to You
God, inspite of all my pain~
asking you to get me through
and then you wash my hands again.

Saturday, 23 June 2007

bad hair nightmare ( aka The Barber)

I asked for the color I had as a child
"I don't think so", he said, and that's putting it mild~

I went to get up from the chair but soon found
the weight of that bib thing was weighing me down~

the eyes of the stylist, so cold and unkind
were narrowing as he approached from behind~

and in his hand something we both recognized
'twas the braid from my worst childhood fears realized!

The one that he cut off right here at the neck
and left me there wearing a 'shag', what the heck!

"You don't want this color, it's way too outdated
and what could be duller, than the one God created~

What you need now is product I'LL mix
a light honey blond with some purple, to fix

the damage you did with your cheap color tricks,
and the thing I hate MOST about all of you chicks!"

"Barberian justice would snip off your locks,
but you've suffered far worse when you turned to the box~

and then to add 'insult', you pulled through the cap
and expecting great highlights, got dried out straw crap.

Next time we'll just give you a "shorty", it's called,
don't mess with my color or you may wind up bald!

Thursday, 21 June 2007

wait for you

In the misty back mountains where no road is going
there are fresh water fountains on a lake with a loon
and the meadow grass growing, and soft winds are blowing
blue skies are all knowing that you're coming soon

Time tells the story, Newsweek is clear
Life shows the pictures, Rolling Stone plays up fear
the world's getting colder, while the globe's warming up
and as babies grow older, let's hope they'll grow up

So I'll wait for you, Lord, what else can I do?
I try to live right, and hold closely to you.
nothings worth losing that peaceful night's sleeping
but hungry kids cry, while their mothers are weeping.

Bombs fall around them, they're scared for their lives
they hide out in hope that their village survives.
And every so often the news filters back
how an air strike has taken what can't be put back.

I must bear the thought that the nation I love,
my hero, the good guy, the gentlest dove
is also a lion, a fierce one at that
the agenda sometimes, takes the good with the bad.

Too much information can drive us to fear
we'll miss the sweet moments and doubt the sincere
we can dwell on the ending, infected with schemes
or trust that the righteous man's prayer intervenes.

we can vote for the ones who, with cautious decisions
will stay on the course and hold true to our visions
of peace and democracy in our own land,
we pray for God's blessing and not to be "banned".

and I'll wait for you, Lord, and what else can I do
but try to live right while I hang onto you....
with the meadow grass growing, soft winds are blowing
and blue skies, all knowing that you're coming soon.

Wednesday, 20 June 2007

define lazy

Nothing much to say here
guess it's just one of those days
keep it light, avoid the fight
and fade into the haze~

feeling laxi-daisy
but I'll hold up for the ride
which way to go, i think i know
but now I can't decide~

'cause I'm an indecisive clazy
and oh whoa-oh so lazy and
nothing gets me going, until I'm
runnin' late.

and it's all about the hoping
but no sense in eloping
cause when the sun rises each morning
I wake up feeling great!

There's my wake up email greeting
and I just can't turn away
then I'll wear my eyes out reading
lovely blogs, and waste the day~

Finally found my towel and sunscreen
though the sun was goin' down
found some money for the ice cream
grabbed my bike and tied it down~

soon I sat upon the warm sand
felt it soft against my back
thinkin' when I'm 97
how I'll have that same old crack~

A crab is crawling towards me
and we're looking eye to eye
and he's studying my features
and I think he's gonna cry~

'cause I'm an indecisive clazy
and oh whoa-oh so lazy and
nothings gonna move me, until I'm
runnin' late~

and it's all about the hoping
but no sense in eloping
cause when the sun rises each morning
I wake up feeling great!

And the smell of salt mist roses
are like perfume for the sea
sunset shadows from the boardwalk
cast on sands that are now free~

thought i'd stop and get a bite
sit out on this here balcony
stare out into the starry night
just the stars, the moon, and me~

then I thought of you and wondered
if you were home alone
thought my feelings had been plundered
no time to talk, no phone~

I must admit I've missed you now
and I've wished you'd miss me too
I'll dismiss this all as nonsense
but inside I know it's true~

Soon my fragile thoughts are broken
and the drowsiness begins
half my life is lost on jokin'
and the other half...sleep wins~

'cause I'm an indecisive clazy
and oh whoa-oh so lazy and
nothings gonna move me, until I'm
runnin' late~

and it's all about the hoping
but no sense in eloping
cause when the sun rises in the morning
here's hoping we'll feel great.

Saturday, 16 June 2007

the right one

They say don't settle, better wait until the right one comes~
sometimes your'e feeling like the wait's too long~
The funny thing is, that it's really not that funny when~
you've finally found him....and again you're wrong.

And so we hold out hope and wait until the right one comes~
we all could settle for the wrong ones and be done~
you take your chances with the future, there's no telling, when
Right gets to know you, if he'll come undone.

I say don't settle for me, wait until the right one comes~
it doesn't matter if your wait is long~
the saddest thing is that it's really not that sad, when~
we've found each other, but we've both moved on.

I flunked my physical and failed out of charm school
I can't impress you with my looks or poise~
The glitz is gassy and I hate the stinkin' fanfare
I've been the wrong one for too many boys.

But something happened in my soul which changed that image
a heart adjustment, now the picture's clear,
No trial boobtube to be used and later brought back
God bought the goods, and tells me not to fear.

I'll wait on Him, and not be betting on the wrong horse
we all fall short, and no one's perfect but the Lord
seems like a crapshoot, but I'll let life take it's own course
won't jump the gun, cuz that's a move I can't afford.

You'll put your best foot out, I'll trip over the notion
I listen to the best show and sometimes it just the worst!
Sometimes you're clear fresh waters, other times a churning ocean
true Love can ride the storms out, and it care's about your thirst.

Saturday, 9 June 2007

old heart gallery

Caught a glimmer of warmth when I left, it fortold
in the instant that I found you smiling,
and though it did hurt, I framed that one in gold~
a fond memory lost somewhere in filing.

These thoughts and old images, I have and I hold
but with limited space and no time,
it does me no good to see I'm growing old
while these negatives outweigh the sublime.

So let's leave behind this dust filled room
Take the best of what's here, come with me
shall we unlock the door, and exit the tomb
of this musty old heart gallery?

The clock on wall tells us just where we stand
and it's chime brings the heartache of doom
yet in all of this clutter, we both missed it's hand~
and you wound up in my heart's old dark room.

So let's break from this nasty cold miserable cave
let go of the saddness and gloom
unlock the door and exit the grave
leave the rest for the world to exhume.

Despite all the charm which my countinence exudes,
these tattered old blinds can't conceal
soft light filters truth from my cheap platitudes
and the good from the dark stuff I feel.

Watching my step, I tread deep within
without the desire to save face
gaze up at an oil done by Guilt of that sin
in the light of great love and sweet grace.

Come on~ we'll abandon the old garbage pile
get out in the air and run free~
got a beautiful archive, for preserving your smile
in my new state of heart gallery.

in the end

Take it out
on someone else
better, yourself.

I can not see the reason for your blame
though it strikes me odd, you tend to think the same
your reasoning does not much good for me
and it's time I set you free
throw out the key.

Well it does no good to rummage through the past
these things will only give us back our gas
well it's better just to let bygones be gone
and we'll meet back here again
out on the lawn.

I know you liked me best. I loved you most
but it's useless now to chase that lover's ghost
and it's getting late and we are getting tired
distance turns these things around
that's how we're wired.

So take it out on someone else and see
no they won't be puttin' up with misery
and then you'll come back draggin' on your knee
but I will not be around
I'm leaving town.

I do believe I see a lonesome tear
have I touched the nerve which makes my heart to fear
that you'll always be the one I call my friend
ain't it just like you and me
in the end.

Wednesday, 6 June 2007

brave hearts

What are the rules in the war against terror~
Did we foil their plans or was it simply their error?
How do we know when we've won the big fight~
Will they run for their lives? Raise a flag that is white?
Does someone announce when the suicide bombers
turn a blind eye to virgins, or whatever they're promised?
Can we sweeten the deal, make them an offer~
live belly dancers...season tickets... gold coffer?
So what will it cost us to buy back a brain
to turn a sick mind back to thinking again?
These 'holy warriors' choose death over reason
to back out on Jihad would sooner be treason
believing it's Allah that leads them to take
their own precious lives and far more is at stake~
The innocent victims we can not defend~
who daily live not knowing how it will end.
How can we justify, how will it look~
when all this is put in the history book?
What have we gained by the loss of their lives?
We kill for our cause, but the madness survives~
We've stood up for freedom and bravely gone in
not once, but two times and then over again
Terrorists plot for the end of the West
while we who are faithful are put to the test~
What ought we do then, when challenged with threats
the further we dig, the hotter it gets~
Over thirty four hundred have paid with their blood~
not counting civilians, who've died in the mud.
On innocent soil, the war will continue~
If you think this will end, then the truth is not in you.
We all know George Washington stood in the boat
crossed over on Christmas, the enemy to smote
to take them by nightfall while drunken and dazed
the victory lingers, and we're still amazed
our cause was for freedom, and freedom was won
by might and by power, in the spirit of one
The Brave William Wallace, he raised up his men~
to fight for their freedom, and won in the end.
He built up their pride and the love of their home~
picked a fight with King, and thus ends this poem.