For Mr D

Ophelia, now her they burned with her bra;
Poker face and keep away from issues of race
The main man he earn a prize on hope, how else to save face?

Blood rules and the sweet white devil sits on the throne
Smiling sweetly, equality is his wedding vow
The mind is without fear and the heads they have been shorn
Tagore and Tolstoy congratulate the Mahatma
The slums they are a-pimpin
Poverty finally has a use

The green horns and the hawks all carving up the turkey,
Ringing in a Christmas on the foghorns of doom
Peddling a paranoia thats never to loom

The titanic sank and Manhattan is now sub prime
They lost their jobs and their Isle of delight
But the jets and the chalets are no crime
The weapons they were in plain sight
The war it is fought on another’s dime
The acts have all gone home and the bands all rhyme

I got your letter today
about the time the tawdry protector got out of jail
for raping a lil girl he made bail

Federico Lorca they hanged; Che shot in the back
Kesey and the pranksters mottled on Guantanamo Bay
Woodstock peddles chicken soup and Bobby is born again
Baby boomers and Martin Luther now no longer in pain
The pope smiles on the corpses of the vain
Ginsberg and Steinbeck applaud while standing frail

I saw it from the window and between my legs my long tail
While I save my precious hide and dust off the pride
To join the conformist tide

Welcome Back

County road 233, under my feet
Nothin' on this white rock but little ol' me
I've got two miles till, he makes bail
And if I'm right we're headed straight for hell

I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun
Wait by the door and light a cigarette
If he wants a fight, well now he's got one
And he ain't seen me crazy yet
He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll
Don't that sound like a real man?
I'm gonna show him what little girls are made of
Gunpowder and lead

Well it's half past ten, another six pack in
And I can feel the rumble like a cold black wind
He pulls in the drive, gravel flies
He don't know what's waitin' here this time

Hey I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun
Wait by the door and light a cigarette
If he wants a fight well now he's got one
And he ain't seen me crazy yet
He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll
Don't that sound like a real man?
I'm gonna show him what little girls are made of
Gunpowder and lead

His fist is big but my gun's bigger
He'll find out when I pull the trigger

I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun
Wait by the door and light a cigarette
If he wants a fight well now he's got one
And he ain't seen me crazy yet
He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll
Don't that sound like a real man?
I'm gonna show him what little girls are made of
Gunpowder and,
Gunpowder and lead

Gunpowder and lead, yeah


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F77Z0v-YxsM

So...

well, maybe there's a god above
but all i've ever learned from love
was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
it's not a cry that you hear at night
it's not somebody who's seen the light
it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

hallelujah...

Moved.....finally!

Saturday night in a wasted life

How many wakes may I hold
For a feeling long since passed
Its all the same, the fragmented sky

The acrid smell of smoked rye
Only the whiskey tastes a lil dry
For I am a poet doncha know it

The vanity of a rhymester
The talent of a Trollope
I am a poet doncha know it

Hold on tight; don’t let the moment pass
This one and so many like it
Its all just banal and crass

Why should I wonder
After all its all just a blunder
All my being bent on plunder

For I am a poet doncha know it
The vanity of a rhymester
The talent of a Trollope

Goodbye Lucifer

This tiresome life, it must end today
The existence of enlightenment must die
Give me, oh knight, the pleasure of ignorance
On this day, I pledge to thy everlasting joy

I am ready to revel in the opium of faith
Will surrender the mind and follow the blind
I cease to exist except as a member of thy ministry
If only you Promise to never let me think again

For I have tasted the forbidden fruit
Believed in Lucifer for so long
I am ready to return to the fold
If only you would increase your hold

Ghost of Christmas

A few broken bottles, still loitering in the yard
Crumpled sheets of newsprint; flyways
Scattered weeds, some flowers stoutly remain
Hark; the cries, infrasound

Rotting in the sun the stepped on carcass of a lizard
Abstract painting, stark on a mottled canvas
Ghostly somnolence in the air
Muffled screams of shattered dreams

Testimony to a past nobody remembers
Shades of violet fading into gray
Outward aggregation all happy and gay
Shadows in my mind; fears arched behind

Ignored by you, untended by me
Languishing in neglect
The visual in ice
And the ruins swept up by time,

All swept up by time.