Building the perfect chick

She would have the soul of Etta James.
Or yeah Aretha, one o' them classy dames.
Or maybe she would be more pure.
Like Ella. She would be groovy, that's for sure.
She wouldn't have to have a heart of gold.
But she would be a woman on whom they broke the mold.

She'd be pretty and she would know who she was.
But she wouldn't want the cocky studs.
She wouldn't want the blatant phonies.
She would know I got the real cajones.
I'm making art out of fantasy.
But I have to be true to me.

The perfect chick would have a juicy booty.
And when she heard me say that, she wouldn't get all snooty.
The perfect chick would see that I have glamour.
Even though I stare and stammer.
The perfect chick would have intelligence and spirit.
The perfect chick will know my depth when she hears it.

I don't think there is a female that I describe.
The chicks I want just shuck and jive.
I'm tired of being sincere but alone.
I'm better than those fools you cling to though.
You chicks aren't ready for my vision.
You chicks aren't ready for long division.

I'm the dark horse but chicks are afraid to gamble.
They would rather skip the preamble.
And go for the obvious stuff.
Sincerity and depth is just too much.
I can say what I want.
No one is listening
No one gives a fuck.

Redemption

Everybody wants redemption.
Even those who don't believe
Even those who don't deserve.
Maybe God gives redemption
Or maybe redemption is beyond
Even God's purview.

I want to be redeemed.
Not for my sins.
But for my failures.
I want to be redeemed
For not being perfect.
I want to be redeemed
In my own eyes.
My eyes that look too closely.

My eyes that never overlook
A fault or a flaw.
I don't need anyone else to criticize me.
I got that job well in hand.
But I will be redeemed
In this lifetime.
I will be redeemed
Because I believe in me.

Jim  Morrison's Curse

He was too pure. He was too honest.
The world was not ready for his vision.
He was not a saint but he was always true to himself.
Truth is so dangerous. Truth is scary.
Most people cower before truth.
Most people choose to hide the truth in the shadows.
But Jim Morrison brought the darkness to light.

Yeah he was good looking.
Maybe that was his curse.
Maybe that made him feel invincible.
Maybe that made him believe he was a deity.
Maybe that made him feel he could do no wrong.
We all wanted to worship the lizard king!

But the lizard king was vulnerable.
Because he thought the world was ready for the truth.
But the world was far from ready for the truth.
The world shuns the truth.
The world likes pretense.
The world likes illusion.
The world was not ready for Jim Morrison.
Sadly..

Muse

You are my reason for living.
You keep on giving.
You are my destiny and my history.
You are the truth that is a mystery.
I know I make no sense.
But I am heavily blessed.

There is a winding way that winds away
But where it is going I cannot say.
But the destination is where I am heading.
I am ready for my ultimate companion.
I never tire of treading and treading.
Because she is what my soul is demanding.

Right now is the future not the past.
I know that it is meant to last.
The direction is in the cards.
That I cannot discard.
I am certain that I grok.
My soulmate is a lock.

Addiction takes many forms (listen to the Fall)

Addiction takes many forms.
Not just drugs and alcohol.
Not just food and sex.
Some people are addicted to ideas.
Some people are addicted to the truth.
(We're really fucking rare).

I'm addicted to this one band (insert addiction here).
I have to play them all the time.
They have become a kind of parasite.
Or I have become a zombie.
I am a helpless vessel through which the Fall flows.
They burrow into my crevices.
They won't let me go.

I have to hear the Fall often.
I have to hear the Fall and it's a problem.
I have to hear the Fall and everything's alright.
I am in bliss when I am free to not choose
To listen to the Fall.
Listen to the Fall!

Lament for the B-side

Lament for the B-side.
B-sides were often songs left off the album.
They sometimes out-shined album tracks.
Or at least added new definition to an artist's work.

What is an album?
Oh right, people don't pay for music anymore.
People used to pay for music.
And a lot of people made money
Except for the artist.
Maybe times haven't changed so much.

But the B-side symbolized freedom.
The B-side took chances.
Does music still take chances?
B-sides allowed for mistakes.
God I miss the B-side!

Garage land

When they were struggling,
They loved each other like brothers.
Each individual mind, body, soul as one.
They were a collective, complex organism.
They were ready to take on the world.


When they made it, ego interfered.
Each one thought he would be better off without the others.
The others were just riding on his coattails.
He was the one with true talent.
The band was nothing without him.

If only they had stayed modestly successful.
If only they had not lost their ideals.
If only success did not poison everything good.
If only they had just stayed in the garage all night.

The fart sniffer chronicles part 2

.
Fart sniffing became a necessity for society to survive in the year 4999. The population of earth was so great that the very air could not withstand more pressure. The ozone layer was a thin sheet of tissue paper so fragile that even little farts (by this I do not mean the silent but violent but merely farts of no consequence, certainly not milk farts, or bean farts either, I mean just run of the mill farts) could cause the earth to become uninhabitable. The learned scientists conducted tests and determined that farts were threatening life on earth in the worse way imaginable and something had to be done.

The government wanted to make fart sniffing mandatory of course. It was the teeming billions and trillions that made fart sniffing a necessity and the government as usual felt it best to put the burden of fart sniffing on the tax payers. But there was a public outcry as you can imagine. People resented being made to sniff farts. Government's job was to take the burden off the workers, not the other way around. Surely, the government could protect the citizens of the United States and the rest of the people of Earth for that matter from the dangers of farts.

In the end, it came down to matters of equity and fairness as do most issues when you really think about it. There were various factions with a variety of viewpoints. Skinny people didn't feel they should have to smell fat people's farts, for instance. Vegetarians didn't feel they should have to smell meat-eaters' farts. There was so much division as to how to handle the threat of extinction caused by the bloated populace's farts.

Even though Republicans and Democrats were in agreement that farts were a menace to society and even could cause  the extinction of the citizens of Earth (agreeing as they never had about global warming, for instance), they just could not figure a way to tackle the problem. As is sometimes the case with government, when they could not seem to solve anything on their own, they resorted to the public sector.

Big business stepped in to save the Earth from extinction by flatulence. Corporations bailed out the government by spending billions of dollars on research. They tested human beings like lab rats to determine if there were some constitutions that could stomach farts more than others. Into this improbable world stepped our unlikely hero, Oswald J. Quifflebottom.

The fart sniffer chronicles part one

Oswald J Quifflebottom was a fart sniffer by trade. Not to boast too loudly but Oswald was a damn good fart sniffer. No he did not attend an elite fart sniffer college like some of his colleagues but Oswald had the dedication and perseverance for fart sniffing that few possessed. Of late, mere fart sniffing was not enough for Oswald. Oswald had started to feel an emptiness deep in his soul.

Oswald feared there might not be a future in fart sniffing. Yes perhaps one day he could drive the truck that delivered the fart tanks but it could take years before there was an opening. Or maybe he could own his own fart sniffing business but Oswald knew he was dreaming too big. All he knew was he had a knack for it. It wasn't really even something you could teach. Yes he had had a brief training but it ill prepared Oswald for the day to day grumblings and commotion that were the purview of the fart sniffer.

It really made Oswald puff out his cheeks when he thought about how far along he had come as a fart sniffer. With no formal education. In truth Oswald was something of a simpleton but he was passionate and adept at fart sniffing. It really came naturally to him. So why was Oswald so unhappy?

Because he was not one to back down from a challenge, Oswald racked his brain to find a way to be content with his lot in life again. Could he go on as a fart sniffer for the rest of his days? Could he get into upper management in fart sniffing? Could he own his own fart sniffing business? Whenever Oswald was puzzled about something he always found a way to solve his problem. And then it came to him. It was so simple. Oswald would make a list. He would write out the pros and cons of fart sniffing to determine if it was really his destiny or just a crazy pipe dream.

Pros
1) He could make his own hours. Nobody told Oswald he had to sniff farts at the break of dawn. If he wished, he could sniff farts at dinner time. He could sniff farts while he was watching television or surfing online. As long as the farts got sniffed within 48 hours, his employer never complained. How many people had that kind of freedom with their schedule? 

2) Fart sniffing did not require a great deal of physical exertion. You could sniff farts while you were sitting or laying down. You could sniff farts on a bus or an airplane. You could sniff farts virtually anywhere the tanks were delivered to.

3) Fart sniffing paid very well. He hated to be materialistic but quite frankly, fart sniffing paid the bills.  

4) Fart sniffing was at heart an altruistic act. It took a special breed to sniff farts and there were few who were as selfless and robust and and unflagging in their dedication to fart sniffing as Oswald J Quifflebottom. Oswald feared he was giving himself a big head as he wrote this entry but he had to be honest with himself above all.

Cons
Well, there is the obvious one. But someone had to sacrifice in order for humanity to survive and this pleased Oswald. It helped him sleep at night to know that the people of Earth would survive another day due to his perseverance and fortitude in the face of grim and odious fart sniffing. It was not for those with weak constitutions certainly. Not everybody had the stomach for it.

Only a jazz musician knows time

Only a jazz musician knows time.
The rest of us squander it.
In jazz they break seconds down into fractions.
In life, we watch the minutes drag.
We can't wait for one more hour to pass
So we can go home and be with the ones we love.

Time is our enemy. Time is our master.
But a jazz musician is on top of time.
A jazz musician breaks time down
Into eighth notes, sixteenth notes.
A jazz musician compresses time
And squeezes the juice out of it.
A jazz musician knows there is so much
Feeling in every note, and they dare not waste it.

I wish I could control time.
I wish I didn't waste so much of the stuff.
It seeps through my fingers like grains of sand.
What if I could catch each grain as it fell
And build something new out of it
Like a sandcastle or some crazy architecture.
Then I would be ahead of time or at least not wasteful of it.

I wish I knew time like Lee Morgan did.
His life was brief and his death was tragic.
But Lee Morgan knew time.
He was dead before he was 40.
But he was so alive while he was in time.
So alive. So alive.

I love the Fall!

I love the Fall's music.

They continue to amaze.

I am learning their code-speak.

I can wait for revelation because it is worth waiting for.

Mark E. Smith is a genius.

There is so much we can learn from him.

I am a disciple, worshiping.

I take my vows very seriously.

The music is raucous yet beautiful.

M E Smith's vocals come in to fill

The spaces like a snarling chainsaw.

But a chainsaw with surgical precision and flair.

I can't tell you what art they make.

I can't make you love them too.

I only know they are the hippest band on the music scene.

The Fall are an exposed nerve, bleeding,
And we are the exposed nerve.

Rebellious Jukebox sums up the Fall's vision.
Take all your desert island picks and chuck them into the ocean.
Yes, they're that good.
 Hail the hip priest!

I forget to look at the moon

I forget to look at the moon.
I don't know why.
It's one of the most beautiful
Sights known to mankind.
Loaded with all that possibility
That we experienced from that first giant step.

The moon is not just what the astronomers tell us.
The moon is for lovers and hopeless dreamers.
The moon is a foretelling of events for some.
The moon is mysterious and it makes the people of the Earth
Feel something otherworldly
Although it is smack dab in our world.
The only world we know or profess to know.

Artists use the moon for inspiration.
From Shakespeare to what's his name.
The moon is not made of green cheese.
The moon is really amazing and everyone
On this crazy planet can look at it
And wonder and dream and hope.

The moon isn't going anywhere.
Although it is beautiful and amazing,
We can gaze at it any time we want.
It costs nothing yet means so much.
Why do I forget to look at the moon?

To-done list

Everybody knows it is good for you
To have a to-do list and check things off.
Setting goals, acknowledging
When you've accomplished them.
But what about a to-done list?
Why not give yourself credit
For things you have already done?

Hey, I did the dishes today!
Let me mark that off my to-done list.
Hey I re-potted my plants!
Better mark it off my to-done list.
Hey, I watched that really cool movie
I kept meaning to get to!
Let me mark it off my to-done list.

What a pleasure to give yourself
Credit for stuff you already did.
Hey, I wrote a poem today.
Hey I read this engrossing book.
Hey I went to work and worked really hard.
Hey I made dinner and it was delicious.
Hey I helped my kid with his homework.
I accomplished something today!
Gotta check it off on my to-done list.

I am rich

I am rich but I don't have a lot of money.

But I have an abundance

Of everything that matters.
I have all the food I need to eat.
I have an apartment that shelters me.
I have friends that care about me.
I have my cats that give me love every day.

You can't be a success

Until you are loved by others!

Money isn't everything and money alone doesn't make you rich.
Time is just as valuable (or maybe more-so).

We don't know how to use it.

We never have enough of it.

It is the greatest resource.

But it is of limited quantity.

Finite and precise. 

Yet the rigidness is the greatest strength.

If you really know the value

Of all the cards you are holding,

You don't have to worry about the x's and o's.

Value is so much more than monetary.

It's unquantifiable. Unidentifiable

To all but the fortunate few

Who believe deep down

That there is a reason.

I am rich but I don't have a lot of money.

'Fast and Friendly'

I went on a road trip with a friend.
We stopped at a gas station
Because I really had to go.
Can I use your restroom?
I asked the proprietor.
'Sorry we don't have a restroom,' she said.
I knew she was lying.
Of course they have a restroom!

She said I might go next door
To the hardware store, they might let me use theirs.
I was more than a little irritated.
Had to wait for someone who was in there.
Was one of those mop room/storage closet bathrooms.
Industrial waste in more ways than one.
But it was serviceable.
It was useful for my purpose.

I went back to my friend's car.
We drove away from the service station.
When I saw that sign:
Fast and friendly.
You gotta be kidding.
My God, what's friendly about not letting someone use your restroom?
And how is that full service?
Is there any customer service left in this country?
I know it when I see it and it's really rare.

That sign should have a shit stain on it.
That's how 'friendly' they are to their customers.
That's how I feel toward their stupid sign.
People have medical conditions.
Bad kidneys, some people just go a lot.
But that friendly service station,
The only one at the whole freeway exit,
Sticks it out there. They can stick it alright.
That idiotic insulting sign.
Fast and friendly.

For mom on Mother's Day (well, after)

I love you more than I love myself.
You are where I begin.
I know I'm not rich.
I know I'm not good.
But I think I'm pretty great.
And you made me great mom!
And you are a gift from God.

I don't know if I will ever publish this.
I know it is raw and unafraid.
But that is me at my core.
I believe in myself.

Thank you mom for being my teacher and spiritual guide.
Thank you mom for being in my life.
Thank you mom for bringing me into the world.
Thank you mom for being you.
You are beautiful and amazing.
I cherish and admire you.
Your son.

Maybe the hero

Maybe the hero is the one who doesn't go to the party.
Maybe the hero is the one who doesn't
Have to go out and be in the crowd.
And put in an appearance.
And make the usual statements and
Be part of the group and let their
Personality be subsumed.
Maybe the hero is the one
Who chooses to know himself.

Maybe the hero is the one who
Chooses to be alone.
Because he knows he will get things done.
And he knows the world maybe isn't ready
For his way of living. His acute self awareness.
Most people are afraid of themselves.
That's why they feel a need to belong.
That's why they feel a need to be accepted.

Maybe the hero is the one who doesn't belong.
Maybe the hero is the one who is misunderstood.
Maybe the hero is the one who loves to be alone.
Maybe the hero is the one who no one gives a shit about.
Maybe the hero is never going to be acknowledged.
Maybe the hero is the one who just knows:
Deep down inside they are on a path.

And no one has to be on it with them.
Doesn't mean they aren't on it.
Doesn't mean they are an outcast.
Maybe the hero is just freer than most.
Maybe the hero is just not concerned with appearances.
'They call us lonely, but we're really just alone.'

.

Languor

Languor is an art form
But it's not to everyone's taste.
Some people think they
Have to be doing something
Every second.
But the not doing something
Is like the space between notes.
They have to be there.

Languor gets at the essence of things.
Because it does not work too hard for it.
Languor is for those who seek pleasure.
But languor is not sinful.
Languor is bliss.

Languor is a learned behavior.
Like learning to play an instrument.
Or becoming a Buddhist monk.
Languor is for believers.

There is a time for everything.
We can't make the moment happen.
The moment comes in its own time.
To be languorous is to acknowledge time
But not try to control it.

It's not ok to not believe

Everybody believes in something.
The preacher believes in God (most of the time).
The alcoholic believes in alcohol (definitely).
The over-eater believes in food.
The virtuous person believes in their virtue. (I wish I did).
No one is removed from sin.
No one needs to deny they are not perfect.

I believe in the power of the word.
I believe in decent human beings.
I believe in honesty (although it's pretty fucking rare).
I believe in integrity.
I believe in the spirit.
I believe in having a choice (although I hate making it).
I believe in humanity (yeah, right).

The atheist has the strongest faith of all.
The atheist is certain there is no higher power and no meaning in the universe.
It takes just as much faith to not believe as it does to believe.
I believe there is a reason (although it is not for us to understand).
I believe that everything happens for a reason.
Everything happens for a reason.

I love freedom

I love freedom.
But the ones who are in power who say they love freedom
Are the ones who want to take yours away.
No one can give you freedom.
And you don't have to earn it.
Freedom is already yours.

I am not very political but I have strong opinions.
Opinions are more about what we don't like than what we do like.
I am free to voice my opinion in this country.
And that is a very good thing.
I'm not being nationalistic here.
I just think having freedom is a good thing.
As far as it goes.

But when my internet is down
(for some fucking reason),
I feel a lack of freedom.
Freedom is abstract.
Freedom is not real.
But still we should value it in this country.
Because we have more than most.

I love freedom.
But sometimes I wish I didn't have so many choices.
But it's better than not having enough choices.
I love freedom.
I live in the United States of America.
We are the fortunate ones who don't know how good we got it.
We are so lucky to be mostly free.
And we are damn lucky to have so many choices.
And to be able to say what we want without censorship.
I fucking love freedom!

Things that are bad for you

Sugar, salt, fast food.
Booze, energy drinks. Hard drugs.
Cigarettes. Pharmaceutical drugs.
Red meat. Pollution. Global warming.


Government. Politicians. Corruption. 
Power.
Corporations. The filthy rich.

Oppression. Censorship. Zealots.
Un-protected sex.

Liars. Cheats. Phonies.
Big business. Wall Street ( I know this line is redundant).
Ignorance. Greed. Jingoism.
Thinking you are always right.
Thinking nothing matters.
Thinking.

'Peace'

Let's arm wrestle.
I think I can take you.
You act like you're so mellow.
But you're a warrior.
I know your type.
You're so enlightened.
You're so righteous.
You're so socially conscious.
But when you shout peace, peace, peace,
You really mean you think you're better!

God I know I love peace too.
But peace is not a weapon.
Peace is a way of being.
Peace is inside.
Peace.

Exiled (Change)

I'm no longer a member of the tribe.

I have to make my own way now.

I know I might not have fit.

And I know I can't quit.

Change is re-birth. Change is growth.

Change can come from within.

But change often comes from without.

Without the tribe I know I will still survive.

My identity is not dependent on the tribe.

I am still wholly myself.

With peculiar aspirations.

And indomitable self-belief.

Every challenge is also an opportunity.

There is always a choice.

There is always a solution.

They took away my badge.
But they can't take my pride.
I know I didn't make the numbers.
But I know I still have value.
Numbers are irrefutable, like God.
I still shine on. I still believe.
I can't put a price on my value.
(I just know it's very high).

1994

In 1994, I thought I knew what it was all for.

The Flaming Lips were transcendent.

The summer was pregnant.

With possibilities and hope.

Labia in the sunlight.

Everything felt right.

The generation wasn't labelled.

Punk rock was fabled.

Music had aspirations.

I was filled with inspiration.

Pavement sitting pretty.

Stephen foxy and witty.

'Baby don't you cut your hair.'

'Baby don't you be no square.'

Now music is programmed.

It's all a sham.

Everyone makes their hundred grands.

But there's no future for those with talent.

And the world is off balance.

Only the beautiful sit on the throne.

Bereft of vision but their plans come to fruition.

The rich and famous just want another buck.

Baby they don't give a fuck!

Now it's twenty years gone by.

My how time flies.

I know more but understand less.

I'll bet you can guess

That there is no happy ending.

No one in power has integrity.

Baby it's plain to see

It's all me, me, me.

I wish I didn't care.

I wish I was unaware.

I wish I didn't have this feeling.

That we've already hit the ceiling.

In 1994, I thought I knew what it was all for.

Michigan Spring

She teases like a belle at the ball, declining to dance, even though her eyes say yes.
She is a coquette, hot then cold, inviting then forbidding.
She is the worst flirt, she lures us then spurns us.
But when she twirls her skirts and shows all her charms,
You know she was worth the wait.

There is nothing more beautiful than Michigan Spring.
Winter takes her sweet time, delighting in our suffering.
But when her radiant, lovely sister finally steps out on the dance floor,
We see her for the mirror image of her cold sibling.
The delightful splendor of Michigan Spring.
Michigan Spring is divine but she never comes on time.

There is nothing more majestic than her trees and her fauna.
There is nothing more soothing than her cool breezes.
How to describe the color of her sunsets.
How to explain the grandeur of her great lakes and streams.
The intoxicating song of her birds and her bees.
The grace and elegance of her deer.
Michigan Spring is the best-kept secret.
For some reason I just had to share it.

 Home is where the Heart is

The word love is over-used.

Love is an old sock, with  holes in it.

Love is worn and faded as an old pair of jeans.
Love is by rote. Love is predictable.
Love is saccharine.
Love is a Hallmark card.
Love is contrived and stale.
Love is archaic. 
Love is past its expiration date.

We need a new word for love.

Home is love.

Home is deep down inside you.

But home is also a sphere around you

That draws in what is good for you

(And some of what is bad for you).

From now on when we say we are in love,

We should say 'I'm finally home.'
Home is where the heart is.

New Church

I'm building a new church.
Its foundation is very strong.
But it's dogma hasn't been written yet.
There is only one person who practices my faith.
But he is a true believer.
He is just one man
But if he finds one more believer,
He will have a congregation.
He is a patient man.
He is a strong man.

The new church isn't about morality.
The new church isn't about sin.
Your sins are your own.
Sins don't make you evil.
Sins just prove you're alive.
Everybody sins but what does it matter?
It's ok that we're not perfect.
The new church doesn't judge.
The new church says live and let live.

The new church is radically different.
The new church doesn't care about history.
The new church isn't interested in preaching.
The new church doesn't discriminate.
The new church respects all humans.
(Did I mention it's radically different?)
The new church just wants you to feel good.
Are you ready to join?



 l

Breath

Such a simple thing.

Yet so profound.

Something every living creature shares.

Not everybody has blue eyes.

Not everybody has a perfect body.

Not everybody is Einstein.

But every living thing has breath.

Not just self-involved human beings.

But simple creatures too.

Even creatures in the sea have breath.

And we take it for granted.

Breath is amazing!

Breath is the miracle of life.

Breath is a gift from God.

We can argue about politics.

We can argue about organized religion. 

We can stress about the affairs of the world.

But do any of these things mean Anything 

Compared to breath?

It's not just for the privileged.

It's not just for the wealthy.

It's not for any class, race, creed, sexual orientation, belief.

It's for EVERYTHING that matters.

BREATH.

Breath

Abundance

There is a real problem with abundance in this world.

If you ask me there's too damn much of the stuff.

When you divide abundance, you still get abundance.

When you subtract from abundance, you're left with abundance.

There is enough abundance for everybody to share.

But some people have more abundance than others.

And they're the same motherfuckers who always want more.

There is a real problem with abundance in this world.

Late Bloomers

We don't have the most friends.

We don't have the best clothes.

We don't worry about timing.

We don't care about the rich and famous.

We don't care about Republicans and Democrats.

We just care about today. We just think about right now.

We just go from day to day, knowing we still got a shot.

We're a rare bunch.

We are not upwardly inclined.

But neither do we wish not to succeed.

We know we are smart.

We know we don't have anything to prove.

But still we know there's something more.

We have to believe there is something more.

If we stop believing, we will surely die.

We know we have time. We know it's not a race.

We know we will come out on top in the end.

We're just late bloomers.

Let's get mystical baby

I need to find someone to get mystical with.

I need to find someone whose mind is whimsical.

I need to find someone who says what if we do instead of what if we don't.

I need to find someone who believes in possibilities, not in fate.

Not everything has to be certain, not everything can be known.

I need to find someone who gets my mind blown.

I need to find someone who believes in the fantastic.

I need to find someone who has a peculiar faith.

I need to find her now.

I really can't wait.

I need to find someone who loves adventure.

I need to find someone who takes chances

I need to find someone who does not want to be popular but would love to be understood.

I need to find someone who thinks I'm the shit!

I need someone whose pieces don't all fit.

I need to find someone who loves the dark and the light.

I need to find someone who believes in super powers.

I need to find someone who loves me for hours and hours.

I need to find her quick.

Cause I don't know if she exists.

I need to find someone who believes there is always a reason.

But doesn't believe everything has to be proved.

I need to find someone who loves her own company.

I need to find someone who enjoys not talking sometimes.

I need to find someone who is on top of her game.

I need to find someone who is mine all mine.

I need to find someone with a restless heart.

I need to find someone who's whip smart.

Let's get mystical baby.

I can't wait to start!

.

To Bob Dylan

You are the artist I most admire.
Your works continue to inspire.
An artist couldn't aim any higher.
Because you are the pinnacle.
Sometimes you're tender, sometimes you're cynical.
You're the top of the pyramid.
You are the summit.
No one else can rise above it.

You give the world a harsh critique.
Sometimes you can be so oblique
A reader has to dig for meaning
Cause you're so inscrutable.
But your art's power is indisputable.
You have a magnificent vision.
You're a poet with a mission
If we but only listen.

I can't describe the emotion.
I can't describe the beauty.
Of your genius, there's no disputing.
You give away gold like it's a piece of tissue. 
Bob Dylan, we will surely miss you
When you've written your last song.
You know the rhythm of the universe.
I can't imagine feeling worse
Than on the day you leave the earth.

The way you tell a story.
The way you turn a phrase.
Continue to amaze.
I really just touch the exterior
Of all that is in your sphere.
Your powers are not earthly.
We know that we're unworthy.
Of all the gifts you bestow.
And everything you seem to know.

To say that you are influential
Does not describe the deeper level
Or the charm or the passion.
You never followed fashion.
Some people claim that you can't sing.
But their words have a hollow ring.
It's idiot wind spewed by fools.
Everyone knows Bob Dylan  rules!

Summer Stock

We all had our parts to play at Summer Stock.

Bur we had roles that weren't written into Summer Stock. 

I was in love with Polly.

Although it was pure folly.
We did the Three Penny Opera.
She was the show stopper.
And I a mere bit player.

Every night I gave her my line.

Sometimes she was cool, sometimes warm.

She made me change my form.

She made me fear I was never born.

She made me so forlorn.

Polly was a short blonde cutie.
An intelligent beauty
Who had ample hips
And gorgeous lips.
Her intellectual rigor
Her looks and her glamor
Her impeccable grammar
All made me sigh and stammer.
I was out of my league.

Polly wasn't Polly.

Polly had a real name.

I loved her just the same.
She didn't go much for fashion.
Her clothes were plain.
T-shirts and pants of navy green.

At the cast party I was smitten.

But our love was forbidden.

No, I was just unworthy.

I was such a pussy.

Polly I desired you.
You made a fire go right through.
Polly why could I not claim you?
At Summer Stock I was infatuated.
I know my feelings were inflated.
But they were so powerful.
And I was so sorrowful
When we said goodbye.

New Rules

1) I will only drink on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays.

(Unless I go out with friends from work).

2) I will only drink 2 beers on a week night

If I have to go to work the next day.

3) I will drink at least 3 glasses of water 

If I have to go to work the next day.

4) I won't drink a strong beer on a week day.

(But I won't drink a shitty beer either).

5) I will not let my drinking affect my work.

6) I will not let my work affect my drinking.

(That last one was a joke to see if

You were paying attention dear reader).

My new rules are very strict.

They will be adhered to 

As if they were the law.

Unless she wants to meet me for a drink.

Then all bets are off.

I'm in love with Georgia Hubley

Don't get me wrong!

If Ira Kaplan asked me

To drink the koolade,

I would surely do it!

But, for the record,

from what I know

(which is nothing),

Georgia Hubley is the most

Beautiful, Sincere, Deep

Intelligent, Charming

Real woman I have ever 

Not met.

And I am certain of it.

And I hope I am proved wrong.

Because I'll never be with Georgia Hubley.

And I only want to be with the Woman

Who understands what I am trying 

To say to her (right now).

Black Valentine

For Valentines Day I'm gonna buy myself a dozen black roses.

Then cut my fingers on the thorns.

I'm gonna buy a box of fancy chocolates.

Then melt em all down.

I'm gonna find myself a sweet serene dove.

Then impale it on an ice pick.

If the moon is for lovers,

Then the sun's eclipse is for me.

Instead of toasting my love with champagne,

I'll drink some Drano with a bleach chaser.

At my wedding they'll throw nails instead of rice.

I wanna crucify Cupid on a cross,

Then set him on fire.

The words 'I love you'

I will reserve for myself alone.

Stupid words for a stupid custom.

I'm never Happy on Valentine's Day.

Jealousy

Jealousy endlessly seeps through my mind.
Jealousy often causes me to be blind.
Jealousy is a desperate emotion.
Jealousy is a dangerous potion.

You drink it down.

You feel like a clown .

I've never not felt it.

We've all smelt it.

Desire for what we don't have

Makes us feel so bad.

Jealousy is a curse.

There is noting worse.

I'm jealous of everyone pretty.

Deep down I'm sure they're all shitty.

I'm jealous of lovers,

Deep down in their covers.

Do they know more than me?

Is there something I don't see?

Fuck the pretenders!

There's no happily ever after.

It could be a new hairstyle.

It could be the way they smile.

Everyone is under suspicion.

Even look at their follicles!

Deep down in their molecules,

They all have something to hide.

And I know they're no better.

But still I'm obsessed.

And I always think about the best.

Is money all that makes someone blessed?
Is nothing sacred?
Why do I feel such hatred
For those better off than me?

Jealousy is my clarion call.
Jealousy causes me to feel small.
Jealousy is a burden.
Makes me feel like I'm burnin.
Jealousy is a death knell.
Jealousy is a bottomless well.
Jealousy makes me feel like a sycophant.
The way that girl makes me pant.

The Yolk

Can a painter ever really capture the color of a yolk?

No, this is not a joke!

I'm completely serious.

Not trying to be mysterious.

A yolk is the color of the sun

Just rising on the horizon.

Neither orange, nor yellow.

Maybe it was rendered by Van Gogh.

He sure liked his golds.

Rembrandt, Cezanne, Picasso?

No, I really don't think so.

The color of the yolk is a special hue.

Most amazing pigment I ever knew.

It looks so beautiful on the plate.

In its soft, yet firm, state.

It's a real revelation

If you've got the time for contemplation.

Guess I got too much time on my hands.

But from where I sit, the yolk is pretty grand.

Is it the egg or the chicken

That's got me so stricken?

The yolk is birth and also death.

There was a tiny creature that never had breath.

A beginning and an end in a delicate prison.

There is such beauty in this vision.

Do I sound like an imbecile?

Delicate, cracked and fragile.

Just like the shell on which my mind dwells.

Do you grasp my confusion?

Or am I just losing it?

To find the yolk so moving.

If I could talk with the animals

Elephants have the best sense of humor.

Their ears are so big cause they don't want to miss any jokes.

They find it hilarious when they sit on your car.

You just don't know what their laugh sounds like.

Monkeys like to throw poo.

Watch out they don't throw it at you.

They think humans take themselves too seriously.

I think they're on to something.

The raccoon doesn't know he's scum. 

He just finds beauty in everything

That is discarded and abandoned.

There is wisdom in that.

Rhinoceros think you're ugly

Where is your proud horn?

You look like a fool and a wimp.

The rhinoceros is a pimp!

The deer have such grace.

Why do you smear their blood on your face

To show you conquered them

With your lethal weapon?

The skunk has got the funk.

He's pretty and he's charming.

Why do you find him so alarming?

Think your shit don't stink?

I've never met an opossum.

I don't even know how to spell it.

But I'll bet even he has charisma.

Ok, he's kind of an enigma.

Lions are the kings and queens of the jungle.

Their majesty is indisputable.

They protect their own in their personal zone.

We could learn a lot from them.

A turtle is not the fastest animal.

But they're so cool and gentle.

And they have great navigation.

Don't flush em down for sanitation.

To My Future Wife that Wasn't

We've been married now twenty years my love.

We fit like hand in glove.

You wear the pants in this house.

You know you married a mouse.

I was so nervous when we went on our first date.

That's why I was thirty minutes late.

I couldn't stop my nerves from shaking.

I couldn't stop my heart from aching.

You were so charming and beautiful.

When I dropped you off that night, you said 'Tootles."

How odd and wonderful that sounded to me.

I knew right there and then our love had to be.

Now it's twenty years gone by.

You're still the apple of my eye.

Your beauty has not faded one iota.

Of good looks, you have more than your quota.

I'm a man who's still smitten.

Your raven hair, eyes like a kitten's.

Your sexy walk, the way you sigh

When I put my hand upon your thigh.

Oh love of my life, I'm so glad you're my wife..

The first two verses were part truth, part fiction.
You know I have a predilection
For the fantastic and unreal.
Don't know how to tell you how I feel.
Darling how do I say in verse
That I never ever felt worse
Than that night I didn't kiss you. 
That you're my whole universe?
Well no, that's not true.
But how do I tell you what I never did then?
What was it made me hesitate?
My insecurity and self-hate.
God I know it's too late!

My love for you then has certainly cooled.
And I know that I am the biggest fool
To write to you in the present
And in a future that wasn't.
My thoughts are as disheveled as these words.
And I know that it's absurd
To make art out of a missed chance.
A lonely victim of circumstance.
Guess I'll pour myself another drink
And try not to think about the one that got away.

 

The Wizard

The wizard is blind but the wizard sees.

He looks deep into your soul.

He makes your body whole.

Just from his touch.

It doesn't take much. 

The wizard talks to you but not in words.

Although his sight is blurred,

The wizard has deep vision.

The wizard knows the path you're on.

The wizard can protect you from harm.

The wizard isn't perfect 

But the wizard has a gift.

The wizard is a healer.

He takes away physical pain.

But not spiritual pain.

That's God's domain.
Even the wizard has his share.
To tell you about it, he wouldn't dare.

Instead the wizard likes to drink.

Because it helps him not to think.

The wizard shares his gift with those who are suffering.
The cost to you is next to nothing.
Considering the power he bestows.
And the secret truths that only he knows.
The wizard can put your mind at peace.
The wizard can cause your hurt to cease.
He takes red hot pain and makes it freeze.
The wizard takes what is invisible and brings it to light.
The cause he fights for is always right.
Although he's often misunderstood.
The wizard's intentions are always good.

.

Admit one

Welcome to the show.

We're glad you've come,

I hope you know.

It's about a fabulous creature. 

He's the star of the feature.

A monster all powerful,

With a brow so sorrowful.

Who would never hurt a flea.

If that's what you came to see,

You should know

It's pure mythology.

For there isn't such a being.

The one with might is always killing.

Not docile and kind,

Like the one we've got inside.

But you paid your coppers,

So we can't stop ya 

From seeing the monster

Who's gonna come out and shock ya

With his hideous face,
Yet with benevolence and grace.

This monsters' a real charmer.
We put a woman in his cage
But he'll never harm her.
He'll just gaze at her beauty.
To protect her is his duty.
Watch this lovable brute
Whose ugliness bore fruit
To something amazing.

Come on in, step inside.
You won't believe the monster's pride.
He must think she could be his bride.
What a dubious proposition!
Fantasy and fiction only go so far.
To think on it is quite bizarre.
A beauty with a beast.
A monster with an angel.
You see the angle?
Neither do I.

Music

Music is a balm to the soul.

Music makes us feel whole.

Music is emotive and cerebral.

But music has another level.

A place beyond our senses and thought.

A deeper place that God has wrought.

Music makes life worth living.

Music just keeps on giving.

Music makes you crazy.

Music is fucking sacred.

Music puts a smile on your face.

Music is a spiritual place.

Music tells us stories.

Music makes people make babies.

Music makes a connection.

Music gives us direction.

Music is a unifier.

Music makes you feel aliver.

Music's power is inexpressible.
Music is of the ineffable.
How to tell how music moves.
Or makes your body want to groove.
Or how it can put you in a place and time
Music is sublime.

Music is transcendent.
Music touches everyone
From the preacher to the prodigal son.
From the righteous man to the tyrant.
Even the evil doth music enlighten.
Music comes from heaven.

The Collector

He only wants the good stuff.

But there's never enough.

He's got an obsession.

He finds it tough to lessen.

His desire for treasures.

He's selfish beyond measure.

This guy's compulsion

Would cause some revulsion.

He's always in need.

Bad ideas just plant their seed.

He's full of desire.

Never quenches his fire.

He can't stop the wanting.

He can't stop the longing.

These special things mean everything.

They are precious and dear

And they have to be exquisite.

His thirst he can't shake.

The chains he can't break.

He always thinks about what he covets.

But once he has it, he no longer loves it.

He's truly a beast.

And money's the least

Of his problems.

He always needs to feast!

Oh, oh, oh!

His desire wont't slow.

And his dissatisfaction just grows

Like a malignant tumor.

He's full of aching.

For his desire, there's no shaking.

And for his thirst no slaking.

This beast needs forsaking.

When he looks on his prizes,

No satisfaction arises.

The hunger is infinite.

And nothing is sufficient.

He's a hopeless case.

Scourge of the human race.

Sinner with the saint's face.

With a penchant for high taste.

I can't look on this creature.

With his ghastly features.

His presence I can't stand to be near.

His affliction couldn't be clearer.

You wanna know who the monster is?

You wanna know who it is that sickens?

The one who makes my heart quicken?

I just look in the mirror.

Impossible New Year's Resolutions

I made a resolution to hold hands with the sky.

I made a resolution to spit in God's eye.

I made a resolution to see if the moon

Was really made of cream cheese

Like they told you in school.

I made a resolution to eat someone's thought.

I made a resolution that happiness can actually be bought.

I made a resolution to plant a garden on the ocean.

I made a resolution to run without motion.

I made a resolution to put the sun in my hat.

I made a resolution to squash the Earth flat.

I made a resolution to love without pity.

I made a resolution to make war pretty.

I made a resolution to write a poem in invisible ink

Then send it to my beloved with an eye blink.

I made a resolution to never be sad.

I made a resolution to never be bad.

Those last two were the hardest I ever had.

Last Night

I think I had two cigarettes last night.

I think my coat had twenty.

As I sit in the cold vapor of my car waiting for it to warm,

The cigarette smell washes strong memories.

They say scent is the best evoker of memories. 

I smell something good and something foul.

The good is me and Joel hanging.

Makes me think of 'Two of Us' by the Beatles.

Ineffable memory. Can't be captured or rendered.

Drank cheap whisky with a motley crew of hipsters.

Listened to top 40's and someone's ipod.

One kid stumped me with a Blondie tune. For shame!

Youth of today may not be completely lost after all.

Didn't think kids today knew about rock and roll.

Woman from New York said she was an editor.

Showed her my blog with twenty some poems.

Dismissed them completely, saying something terse.

That witch didn't know shit about verse.

She looked like Edie Sedgwick if she had lived to her fifties.

With a sterner brow and cold cold eyes. 

Her coat probably cost more than an X Box.

Opportunity knocked and said better luck next time.

I met a really cool girl at the party.
Her boyfriend challenged me to write this poem
He never sent me his poem so I guess I won.
Some people are only in your life for fleeting moments.
But they still have an impact.
The hostess left before Joel and me.
She ran off with the kid with the ipod.
The dish ran away with the spoon
By the light of the silvery moon.
It was that kind of night.

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