Monday, 30 August 2010

Night Bugs- G Clair

Stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
can't lie, not the first time I'm thinking of you
but the night bugs are out, life's distractions will do

I looked to the west as the day slowly faded
turned up the volume of cricket and katydid
rhythm rubs life in the darkness outside
steer clear of the blue light or get yourself fried

With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives
bittersweet bugs for the rest of our lives

Back in the house now, I roll down the screen
protecting myself from the lurking unseen
from the critters, which drawn by the lure of the light
make feast in their famine on food, flesh and fright

we handle the things that intrude in our spaces
the bugs in the dark and the unwanted faces
we roll down the screens and we listen to voices
those sweet summer sounds, and this night bug rejoices

With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives

too many months have passed without hearing
the music which blends with the night bugs I'm fearing
I nearly lost hope for those sounds in my life
but these night bugs revive good ol' summertime strife
bittersweet bugs, for the rest of my life

Stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
can't lie, not the first time I'm thinking of you
the night bugs are out, life's distractions will do

Tuesday, 24 August 2010

the impressionist- G Clair

When he speaks, I hear the sound,
a president who's been around
speaking of the wife with cankle
not that she could care to rankle
Yo, BT, he fights for freedom
Rocky would be pleased to meet him
late at night when lights are lunar
on the road back home, a crooner
fools rush in, no longer Bing
the king of rock, old Pop can sing
a whispered line from any song
but suddenly I'm in the wrong
and one tough stooge I hear he bought a
tommy gun, and "why I oughta"
tell you something you don't know
it's Ahnold Schwanal ho dee doe
and then another voice will join
it's Raymond with his tenderloin
this sailor's gal has quite a name
he cooks his spinach in the same
a wealthy man on distant isle
who's wife is Lovey, makes me smile
Every single voice he's got
is good but when he's best it's not
the person he'll impressionate
but his own's getting late
but wait, there's more, but I am spent
on telling of the way it went
or so it goes and what'll come
the truth is, well...I love the bum.

Sunday, 15 August 2010

Heart Stinkin' Candy- G Clair

he takes the wheel, she's left standing there weeping
he won't turn back, it's just the way that he feels
it doesn't matter much, 'cause soon she'll be sleeping
time and again her heart heals.

waiting around, well she'll wait for a season
seasons will pass, thinks it's all in her head
she buys a calendar and ponders the reason
some things are best left unsaid.

This is her song, though the music is fleeting
and these are the sounds that are harder to sing
she'll write about it since there's nobody reading
nobody's hearing a thing.

another mistake with a miserable ending
questioning why she's left standing alone
she pours out her heart to the woman who's tending
life has a mind of it's own.

Here are some words from a girl who's been taken
leave him alone, don't be there when he phones
change your number and be done with the aching
you've got a life of your own...

you'll have a love of your own.

Prayer of St. Francis by Sarah MacLachlan

Saturday, 14 August 2010

Quiet In the Hood - G Clair

misery has an upside but the company's not good
en hurt won't come out in the wash, it's gonna come out in the hood
yellow tape is like a torch which leads all eyes to stare
what exactly happened here...who what when and where

we'd like to think it's not the norm while cops patrole the streets
we hope and pray somehow, some way, the crime rate will decrease
So where's your little brother, well today's his day in court
Kelvin likes to ride his bike, but peddles drugs for sport

He never knew his father and hates his mother's men
the gang he's in are more like kin, blood homies to the end
Seems Kelvin was elected to shoot a brotha dead
whose crime it seems was wearing jeans not blue, but crimson red.

The boy, he couldn't do it, said, "I ain't nobody's fool"
"I'll sell the drugs", he told these thugs, "but rather shoot some pool".
Granny's on the front porch settin' out to sweep
on a pathway to disaster, the bullet whizzes past her
and cuts through wood and plaster... to find the child in his sleep.

Kelvin's little cousin, he couldn't tell the time
he barely knew his numbers but could rap a nursery rhyme
They buried little Winston and Gran's not doin' good
his swingset is abandoned and it's quiet in the hood.

No one really plans to live a lowly life of crime
to drop out of society and soon be facin' time
those who lack a vision, who have yet to find their gift
need a hero and direction, not a handout, but a lift.

So go ahead and spraypaint walls, decorate abandoned halls
breakdance, shoot your basketballs, skateboard parks and crowded malls
Encourage all their hopes and dreams, lead them out of evil schemes
'cause life is not what it all seems when there's quiet in the hood.

Monday, 9 August 2010

Ditched- G Clair

The hillside before me rolled by like a wave
and awash in my thoughts, still I noticed the grave
the headstone was tilted and covered in rot
a memory of someone forgotten, but not.

The scene triggered feelings which drew me way back
to a time when I dwelt in a one bedroom shack
the love of my life had grown cold, and despairing,
my heart shriveled up like an unpickled herring

I remembered thereafter, and oh, what a mess
I led me to places too dark to confess,
dying for flowers from somebody dear
I'd fill up my window box year after year.

and soon the depression grew into a hedge
though flowering plants kept me back from the ledge
'I'll never be happy!' I quite often thought
a forgotten old headstone all covered in rot.

I swore if I ever recovered again
I'd wait for the right one, the Boaz of men
but for all of the damage, the shape my heart's in
I'd be blessed if he'd notice, so how could I win?

With all of these memories weighing me down
I slapped myself silly and turned up the sound
and opened the windows to let in some air
the sun on my face and then suddenly...glare!

I veered off the highway which cut through the land
a two lane construction of asphalt and sand
took the embankment at an ungodly pitch
and suddenly airborne, shot over a ditch

Landing my vessel across the divide
I hoped for the best for it's brave underside
the dust settled soon, and how foolish I felt
Thank God I'd remembered to buckle my belt.

And there in the front seat, assessing my plight
dazed, but amazed at this beautiful sight
as 'Love is a Battlefield' blared in the grime
Wildflowers grew in the trenches of time!

You the forgotten who languish for years
ditched and bedraggled and drained of your tears
thinking you're nothing, a sunset that's fading
grieving love lost while your
best years are waiting

Tend to your gardens wherever they are
keep yourselves fresh with the watering jar
Remember, like flowers, the wild ones too
your maker, your husband, will take care of you.

For your Maker is your husband--the LORD Almighty is his name--the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; he is called the God of all the earth.
Isaih 54:5

Saturday, 7 August 2010

Icicle- G Clair

Went out walkin' in the snow
slipped on the black ice
and down I did go
I tried to get up
but it was too
slick and so
I lay there
I felt
a nice
man with
warm hands
reached down
and lifted me up
he held me close and
warmed me in his strong
arms. It had seemed to him
that I looked more like a snowman.

In a while, I was looking more like a puddle.

Friday, 6 August 2010

Fat Back-, Front Roll- G Clair

my love
you know I long for you to hold me
my love
it seems your arms cannot enfold me

I got a
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll

and when
you tell me
that I am just the way you need me
tell me truly
is it the carbs or fat you feed me

you gimee
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll


And it's true
that when we sleep, I lie behind you
and it's true
the morning sun can never find you

i got a
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll

i love your
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll

fat back
baby baby
Front roll
Mamma Mamma
Fat back
Daddy Daddy

Fat Back

Thursday, 5 August 2010

Certain - G Clair

He takes her love to meet his need
this bachelor is a selfish breed
she'll tolerate his cruelty for affection;
She's walked on eggshells, feeling sad
and breaking down she sees her dad
but why the anger, why all the correction?

Locked inside her cloud of love
so aimlessly she'll float above
the memories- each time his rage exploded;
and never being good enough
perplexed at why he seems so gruff
when only yesterday he swooned and doted.

She, the ever-loving type
would jump to fix his every gripe
and dance around him while his heart was hurtin'
believing then, "it must be me"
the source of all his angst, you see
but now she knows the truth, of this she's certain.

Taking one last chance she'll try
to reach out to this troubled guy
and longing to become his heart's desire
staged to win his softer side
she'll do her best to smile and hide
the fear, this saintly dear, her heart's a liar.

Never will there ever be
a stable point where they are free
to be, although she'd hoped their love was certain;
the disapproval in his eyes
is something she should recognize
it's been disguised until the final curtain.

Monday, 2 August 2010

Bad Hair Nightmare- G Clair

I asked for the color I had as a child
"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
in his hand he held something we both recognized
'twas the braid from my worst childhood fear realized!

The one he'd 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 may wind up BALD!