Go To Sleep - poem/lyrics

A new one I've been working on

Grown too old.
So mean.
Hate the earth and stars.
Everything in between.
Angry, bitter.
Left to wallow in misery.
Please please please.
Put me to sleep.

Where is the love?
How about that peace?
Ammo for all.
Sure builds a community.
Fighting fire with flames.
All on a losing team.
Please please please.
Put me to sleep.

Repeated offences.
Generational bickering.
Ignored forgotten pasts.
Or selective memory.
Not a single new event.
More people listening.
Please please please.
Put me to sleep.

Cast away from the herd.
Didn't feel like playing.
Off in my own world.
Learning and thinking.
All the pieces fit.
Doomed from the beginning.
Please please please.
Put me to sleep

Stop! - new poem/lyrics

Stop!
We've heard your facts before.
Shouted loud like a lions roar.
Repeated as you wish.
Can't change the historical record.
Just stop.

Stop!
The bickering and namecalling ruse.
The whole nobody's been more critized than you.
Everytime you type.
The more we lose.
Stop, please.

Stop!
Words can inspire actions.
Can be used to invite violence.
Hot heads are childish.
Use your head before offering any kind of response.
Please, stop.

Stop!
Giving each side fuel.
Acting like a bully at school.
Work for all, unify us.
A job well done can't be denied if it's true.
Until then, I beg, please just stop.

Rid The Horns - poem/song

This is loosely inspired by the Great Depression and Great Recession.

Lost my job, took my car, took my home.
The banks bailed out yet they still foreclosed.
No remorse from Wall Street.
They can't be told no.
While they party with a bonus I paid for.
I'm out here foraging for food.
Tell me, how is that fair in a sensible world.
Where the quality of my life is determined by a bull.
Should have never been let loose.
Now they're too big to prosecute.
Need to rip the horns out and watch him croak.

Make a new home by the river.
I don't care if the economy gets better.
Big brother can give him all the money he wants.
If I'm not important enough to be saved.
Then I'm done playing these games.
We figured you out, you've got caught.
Tell me, how is that fair in a sensible world.
Where the quality of my life is determined by a bull.
Should have never been let loose.
Now they're too big to prosecute.
Need to rip the horns out and watch him croak.

Could the system be fixed?
Needs a deep cleaning and a whole lot of common sense.
With some work we might get it on a right track.
All this speculation needs to go.
No room in this rodeo.
A new bull in town is ready to fight back.
Tell me, how is that fair in a sensible world.
Where the quality of my life is determined by a bull.
Should have never been let loose.
Now they're too big to prosecute.
Need to rip the horns out and watch him croak.

The Winner - poem

I like watching the trains in the yard.
Loading up and speeding out into the dark.
My only wish is to be on one.
Run past the fences and dodge the security guard.
Run up beside and jump into the boxcar.
I don't care where it's going, if the ride is long.
From this town I've been banished.
They were too scared of understanding.
Who knew differing ideas would lead to trouble.
As quick as lightning.
Took to the street rioting.
But it only seemed to hurt my cause.
Now my eyes are back on these trains.
Bailing is sounding good again.
Maybe the next place will welcome me with open arms.
Succeeding will make them look like fools.
After all, they tried destroying my tools.
Revenge could be swift, but the gloating is better in the long run.
I can be kicked out.
Friends threatened with death if I'm even thought about.
Should know better than to push too much.
You've seen what it can do.
Turns the crowd against you.
And I win by playing the victim.

Did Not Answer - poem/song

I hear the bell ring.
As I'm climbing the stairs.
Walk through an empty hallway.
Towards the lab to see if anyone's there.
Hope I'm the first to get back.
Can't stand those awkward stares.
Take a big deep breath.
Reach the corner, on my last steps.
The faces inside hold the torments.

Struggle every day.
With my own demons.
Forced to interact.
With people who just encourage it.
Wears a person down.
Like your not worthy of being human.
I pray that they get theirs.
An unpleasant surprise from their maker.
To feel what it's like to suffer.

They say you are your own worst enemy.
Well today that's true.
Always results with a loss somewhere.
Communities frantically looking for clues.
Always a could have, never a should have.
Compassion can't be taught, should always be part of you.
Be a friend when one is needed.
Who doesn't need someone to listen?
Who doesn't need a friend?

Time Will Erase You - poem

Take a gander.
The view should outrage.
Lucky the dead can't act.
You'd be torn apart and destroyed again.

Wanted to make a point.
Determined
A star in another life?
To the living your nameless.

Did you think twice as you pushed the button?
Consider anyone else?
Too blind with faith.
Leaving lives in ruin.

Not a way to get compassion.
Won't be winning any voters.
Outrage, not support.
Condemnation for any violent action.

The public might be lazy.
Not ignorant
They'll stand together.
Collectively oppose any brand of extremism.

I Only Enjoy 2 Months music video

A little video I made. Not much to look at, but the main focus is the song. It's just a rough demo of the track, but it gives an idea.

Hamburger Hill - poem

Woke up and grabbed my piece.
Stormed out the door, a grimace on my face.
Several weeks of ongoing battles, today is the day.
Didn't join up to watch the inside of a room.
Putting up a good fight making heads go boom.
If death is what the man wants, we'll be meeting the quota soon.

Told not to take prisoners.
They just bark or whine.
We tell them to be quiet.
Or shove a grenade down their throat.
Try not to show excitement.
After they explode.

Running up that hill.
Adrenaline running high.
Nerves through the roof.
Shot at by bullets of every size.
Bodies roll to the bottom pit.
Most dead, but a few still alive.

Make it too the top.
And there's nothing to see.
A bombed out crater.
Littered with corpses shred apart like hamburger, no grass, no trees.
Regardless of where I go.
The sight is embedded in my memory.
To this day I can't eat a cheeseburger.
So I'll take a chicken sandwich please.

The News - poem

Nothing can bum you out more than the news.
Depressing and mean-spirited with a bit of lies and a sprinkle of truth.
The anchors read their stories.
No emotion, like they're set on cruise.
Thinking they deserve attention.
Just because they're "handsome" or "cute".
I'm not really interested in watching the news.
Each segment is lame.
Not newsworthy at all.
Do sports really need a dedicated hour?
Who cares who kicked, hit, or threw a ball.
Accidents occur.
I feel bad for the family whose son took a head first fall.
But shoving a camera into his crying mothers face.
Camera guy, come on.
The weather girl is gorgeous.
Just as long as she doesn't talk.
The only way you can sit through it, is by turning the sound off.
The guests are all horrible.
Smug and completely out of touch.
Refuse to hear anyone else's voice.
So I refuse to give a F/.
Opinions passed of as fact, that's what theses stations have sunk to.
That is why I'm not keen on the news.

Another One - poem

Sometimes I'm in a group.
But mostly by myself.
Sometimes I am rude.
I curse and I yell.

My actions are violent.
Though directed internally.
Few have ever noticed.
I've adapted to be discreet.

Of whom I have met.
Only one I can rely on.
With my age that is a disappointing fact.
One which time has stood on.

Need A Big Yard - poem/song

Something a little different...

One on the line.
Two in the shed.
Three in the ground.
Four more going in next.
Just meeting their fate.

I feel some remorse.
But I get wrapped up in the moment.
I'm never gonna show it.

The line stretched out.
The shed's gotten dirty.
The ground's all muddy.
Weigh the boxes down.
Or they'll just keep reemerging.

I feel some remorse.
But I get wrapped up in the moment.
I'm never gonna show it.

Waiting for rain.
To wash my conscious clean.
What's done is done.
Can't go back, I have no time machine.
Reserved to our own destiny.

I feel some remorse.
But I get wrapped up in the moment.
I'm never gonna show it.

Washed the line.
Cleaned out the shed.
Plant flowers on the ground.
Have to find me a new spot.
A bigger yard with a higher fence.

Stop The Clock - new poem/song

Something new that's just finished. Not sure I like it that much, but hey, they can't all be winners.

Becoming too content.
As you do with age.
Search for adventure.
But too afraid of change.
Eyes glued to the clock.
Twiddling thumbs, never blinking.
Growing older and older as the hands tick and tock.
Can't escape the clutches, the hands pulling you down.
Life isn't a sport you can turn off or on.
Time works against you, you can't stop the clock.

Stressed beyond belief.
Not a chance for relief.
With myself I sit alone.
Finishing off another Viet Coke.
My brain is racing.
The alcohol kind of helping.
Easing the crazies.
Relaxing the unease.
Life isn't a sport you can turn off or on.
Time works against you, you can't stop the clock.

Broke beyond repair.
Deserves to be thrown in the trash.
Not enough resources.
Not enough cash.
No amount of reprogramming.
Could salvage our wasted time.
Sing a song of hope.
To deceive our minds.
Life isn't a sport you can turn off or on.
Time works against you, you can't stop the clock.

Thanks Ivan - poem/song

Walking alone in the West Wing.
Thinking of days gone by.
Only one power.
No action contested.
Seen as the only good guy.
Had our enemies.
They knew better than to start strife.
We had the bomb and the media on our side.

Along came a Red with a promise.
"We'll show you!"
A laugh was had.
Eyes rolled.
Seriously, who knew.
Internationally taken as a joke.
No way it could be as strong as our own.
Wanted to appear to not fall for this ruse.

A new monster created.
In a race not yet won.
60,000 pounds
26 feet long
A yield of 50 megatons.
Dropped in the Arctic.
Surely those who seen it panicked.
At the sight of a fireball brighter than the sun.

The entire world took notice.
We watched, a little fearful, but mainly jealous.
We would never have the support to try this.
How dare they test our role as the major player.
In this age of MAD, even we can be crushed.
At the end of the day.
Big Ivan succeeded.
Still I dream, that we're number one.

Have You Ever Seen An Elephant? - poem

You'll never catch me alive.
In my T I drive.
Scouring the midwest and south.
Armed to the teeth, and letting my anger out.
Bank to bank.
Shoot 'em up.
Leave no witness.
My finger is attracted to the trigger of my gun.

Why must I do what I do?
Stealing pleasure wherever I go.
Told too many times my head is on loose.
Seeking out revenge for my stolen childhood.

No town is safe.
They will all feel my wrath.
They'll fear my name.
Tremble when I walk past.
Rob each city blind.
A Tommy in my hands will leave a bloody trail behind.
And me with bags of fortunes.
That's what you get for not taking my side.

I made a big mistake.
Hit all the spots in one place.
Followed by a pig on a bike.
To my hideout in Westchase.
I tried to run, but he kept up.
Then I brought out my gun.
Bang, bang I though I got a hit.
Turns out I missed.

The copper returned fire.
I hit the ground a second after.
Regret immediately fills my head.
I take a bullet to the arm.
My shoulder feels like it's been ripped off.
Throw my piece and raise my hands to surrender.
He starts walking closer.
I realize a capture is not what he's after.
As he points, lifts the magnum and pulls the trigger.

Big Red House - Poem

A new poem kinda inspired by the "olden days" for some reason.

Thankfully I finish when the sun dims.
I struggle to walk back home.
Because I can't afford the trolley.
It might only be a tent.
But at least it's something.
Take a couple swigs of my flask.
Hope to numb these body pains.
If the mines don't get me.
The poison will most definitely.
Will rest for an hour or so.
To let the medicine flow.
Then I'm off to hit the town.
To find a cure for the blues.
No credit to my name.
Only a ten in my hand.
Not interested in gambling it away.
The parlors have already taken what I had.
No, I need a place where I can be treated like a man.
That big red house on the corner.
Where I'm lucky regardless of what I spend.
The girls line up as I enter the door.
Smiles on their faces until they notice it's a regular.
Look for my Pauline, a brunette that stands apart.
The others are blondes.
With whom I've only chatted, I've seen no hearts.
Spotted alone at a table.
Looking incredibly bored.
She glances my way and asks,"Back for more?".
Shaking my head yes we make our way upstairs.
I'd marry this woman in a second.
But she only sees me as another customer.
Reaching what I call "our room".
We are alone at last.
On the wooden bed she sits, and again I ask.
"Will you marry me now?"
With an eye roll she pouts.
"Not this again, how much do you have to spend?"
Saddened, but not broken I hand over my ten.
She knows sometime I'll try again.
In that big red house on the corner.
My love works.
And I wait.

Never, but whatever - Poem

I will never have the pleasure.
Of gazing into your lovely eyes.
The sensation of holding each other.
During a rough day, or when falling asleep at night.
The contours of your body.
Snuggled up against mine.
Knowing this, kills me inside.
Like a knife stabbing my heart.
But I'm too sad to die.

I will never feel your soft skin.
Or our hands intertwined.
The thrill I would receive.
When you tell me "You are mine".
Your voice would be all I need to hear.
Link up our brains.
Connected, two peers.

I confess I made you up.
I only want something to love.
No pause, for celebration.
Out there is nothing for me.
A world that has turned me into a hermit.
Seven billion people.
I can't even find one.
You don't even exist.
All part of my over active imagination.

Texas Bride - New Poem/Lyrics

My bags are packed up.
I'm ready for the flight.
Take the shuttle to the airport.
Get anxious in the security line.
Gaze around the room.
To see if anyone here catches my sight.
None of them will do.
I need to flee and find.
My Texas bride.

So I fly back home to Houston.
A layover in Dallas made for a surprise.
Seen two brunette ladies while waiting.
They ended up boarding the same plane as I.
In a window seat I heard talking.
They both sat down to my right.
I stole a couple of glances, what would that hurt?
I heard one tell the other, they were headed home to Denver.
Man, I had to let out a sigh.
I almost imagined either of them could be my Texas bride.

After landing at Bush, I grab my carry on and disperse.
Call for a cab and rush to wait outside.
Standing by the curb, I see a cute blonde in a skirt.
All types of thoughts run through my mind.
I casually walk over, but she walks off before I can get near.
Hear a honk and notice it's my ride.
To the Galleria, I say. The driver mumbles OK.
And we're off into the night.
To find my Texas bride.

After some quiet moments.
We finally arrive.
He asks for a tip, I say I don't know what that is.
All I see now is the cabs taillights.
Walking over to the waterwall, my heart has never been as strong.
I feel at peace in this city of mine.
Do I deserve love?
Can I have a child or wife?
How long must I wait?
To find, my Texas bride.

Blame - Poem

The beat is fast.
Engaging and loud.
The treble piercing.
The bass making the speakers bounce.
My ears can't take it.
They start to bleed.
I can't help but dance, to the funky beat.

Pull my hair out.
Grind my teeth.
Brain is overloaded.
From the song that's playing.
Makes me want to shout.
Makes me want to scream.
Makes me want to buy a gun.
Fire at random, shoot everything.

It's not only the music.
Also video games and movies.
Comics, books, and toys
And suggestive tv.
When around these crutches.
I do as they tell me.
I'll go the whole nine yards.
As a brain washed dummy.

I could pass the blame.
To friends or family.
Say no one was ever around.
That nobody loved me.
None of it would be true.
A way to scheme.
One thing I won't do.
Is accept responsibility.

Remember This? Road To Nowhere record

This is a 12in Promo Single of the song Road To Nowhere by the fantastic Talking Heads. From the 1985 album Little Creatures. I do admit I enjoy the song Television Man slightly more though, which on the album is the song right before this one.

First Lady – a Poem about nobody in particular

First lady, first lady
Can you come stand beside me.
I'd like to capture your elegance with a picture.
Dress in black and white.
Your smile the only light.
Strike a pose, say cheese hear a snap.
And it's all over.

Walk back towards the plane.
We watch in a haze.
Shattered thinking this visit is the last.
On the stairs you turn and wave.
The crowds spirits are raised.
What a pleasant end to the act.

I hope the rumours aren't true.
We found a discrepancy in your review.
Suppressed stories of rage.
Shouting contests with interns.
Slapping your drivers.
All from the lips of a spiteful aide.

I see you now as human.
A mistake or two is common.
Owning up is our only request.
Step back from the public.
They want you humiliated.
First lady, first lady
Sooner or later you'll have to answer to us.

WZ