I'm a 'Dumb Blonde' people say
It hurts more then people see
I hide it well
Go along with the mocking
Inside I cry But I simle on the outside
And wish it would all go away
People don't realize
Most blondes are smart
High Honor Roll student
That's me all around
I wish they stop
It's killing me now
I'm dreaming of doing the unthinkable
Dying my blone locks brown
what if i were a blonde bombshell
would it be different if i changed
would it be a little better
could i be a pulse on your radar
a blip on the screen
a little bit of static flipping through the channels
or maybe just me
could i have a place in line
a moment of your time
would it be different if i changed?
patient yet forlorn on saint valentine's day
People wonder why I forgive.
I wonder why they don't.
Mistakes are taken.
It is a duty,
A necessity to forgive.
To apologize for others,
When they won't for herself.
My dad asks me why I let myself get used,
I tell him
We use amazing things every day and smile.
He doesn't get it.
Every plus has a minus.
having decided that your duty is to bring music
and a little bit of danger to the lifeless streets
of suburbia, you draw yourself up as a rebel with a cause,
hold your arms out like the spirals of the milky way,
sending the glowing children congregating around you
into a feverish whirl, because space is curved
and so are the suburbs you traversed across to bring them here,
winding through hills and streets to conduct
this sermon on a mount, so even the things that
appear to move straight are really spinning around.
you have stolen your father’s turntable,
and his old records, and his oversized coat,
and while the sunset begins to stain things
in a golden light, you put the needle
on the vinyl and open old wounds
while the only voice you have ever loved
claws its way out of the box and into
the grooves of the sky, making the stars
scratch and whir, and time instead
settles into the beats, breaks its lineage,
and begins to, like everything, spin.
With her blonde hair down and her pink shades on
Rocking like some cool chick back in Eighty One
Tight blue jeans and black diamante shirt
Sun kissed shoulders and a licence to flirt
A heart of glass empty and requiring more
Bottle of red wine emotions she couldn’t pour
She said she would call me one way or another
Left me hanging on the telephone for some other
And now the tide is high and I’m right back at the start
An atomic bomb just exploded and raptured my heart
Street signs, snow flakes
Twinkling in the darkness
Among All the Automobiles
Racing too and Fourth Ave
Burning through tires and caffeine
Under the influence of peppermint dreams
Can these be, nostalgic memories of a
Kaleidoscopic futuristic collective
State of being?
Relax. Take a sip. Don't lose your grip.
Unruly Howlingdays to follow;
Need all the free coffee and tea i can see.