Hair can be mischievous,
You never know when it will strike next,
Don't ever let your guard down,
Run when you feel danger,
Or better yet,
Xylophate it,
You must know what that means,
Make no fuss about it if you don't.
Either way, remember:
The
Hair
You
Love
Can...be your downfall!
Use care 24/7,
Let nothing convince you otherwise,
Let nothing lure you into trusting your hair,
Or it will stab you into the back.
Love your dog, but never your hair,
Once you do this, you will be:
SAFE!

Exit paranoia; poem is done.

You threw the glass,
and your anger smashed it.
You cut your fingers on your own hate.
If you only would've been patient,
we would've gotten home,
without bloodstains all over your shirt.

*Dear brother,
you still have so much to learn.

My ma likes to tell
Of me as a babe
Grouchy and contrary
I never went to bed
They'd had to pop me in the car
And before we'd round the block
I'd have nodded off
These days I'm much the same
Huddled behind you
And sheltered from the wind
My hands in your pockets
Sleep comes easy
When we're on the road

Last night I went out for a beer
Down to my local bar
While I was there I do believe
I saw a falling star

I ordered up a beer and shot
Sat down, to waste some time
When I heard a gruff voice rumble
Two seats down from mine

"Shut that juke box off barkeep"
"I can't stand to hear that voice"
"I'd rather rip my ears off"
"If I truly had the choice"

The barkeep wandered back a bit
Turned the sound down for a while
I kept on at my beer and then
I ordered two more, with a smile

"Send one down to him" I said
"Let him pick a song on me"
"He can choose whatever song he wants"
"And tell him, this one's free"

The barkeep served the beer on up
The man turned and looked my way
He said "I thank you for the beer, kind sir"
"But there's nothing there to play"

About an hour passed before
The band took to the stage
They broke into an old, old song
And the man, yelled out with rage

"I don't need to hear that song"
"I hate it, don't you know"
"Play anything else you want to play"
"But, cut that from your show"

The band continued playing
The man got mad as hell
"I hate that song, I told you"
"You can all now go to hell"

I watched the barkeep move in
He whispered close so none could hear
The man, sat back in silence
I wonder what was whispered in his ear

I ordered up a beer for me,
With two shots, and then moved stools
When I got beside me
He said "Do you think that I'm a fool?"

I said, "just have a drink bud"
"Let the band play what they want"
Then he turned and looked on through me
With dead eyes and face so gaunt

"Son, I wrote that ****** song"
"I sang it all my life"
"I wrote it for the one I loved"
"She used to be my wife"

"While I was  singing songs for her"
"She was flat out on her back"
"For everyone who came for me"
"She had two more in the sack"

"I used to play the music boy"
"And I used to play it well"
"Now, I'm just a stinking drunk"
"With one foot set in hell"

"I used to have a tour bus"
"Play two hundred shows a year"
"Now, I sit and wallow"
"I live on charity and beer"

"I started drinking on the road"
"Couldn't sing, I couldn't feel"
"I couldn't sing the words I wrote"
"The feeling wasn't real"

"I fell into a bottle, son"
"About ten years ago"
"I haven't reached the bottom yet"
"I've still a ways to go"

"She took my words away from me"
"Stomped my heart and made it dust"
"She took all I ever had"
"My words, my love, my trust"

"I thank you for the beer boy"
"But, I am just a hopeless case"
"I used to be a someone once"
"Now, I take up space"

The barkeep, set up two more beers
He said "These one's here  are free"
"Your words, they still have meaning"
"At least they do...to me"

The band struck up another
It was one that we all new
I could see him start to shaking
I guess he wrote this too

He told me boy "it's kinda tough"
"Knowing all I had is dead"
"I keep hearing myself singing these"
"But, only in my head"

"Three nights a week I spend the night"
"At the lockup, drunk as hell"
"Because, I just can't stand to hear my songs"
"And the stories that they tell"

I finished up, and shook his hand
Paid my tab and turned to go
From behind me, I heard "thank you"
"I just thought that you should know"

Tonight, I went out for a beer
I went to my local bar
Two seats from me I guess I saw
A real life falling star.

floating words
and touchable sounds
let them fly
let them be
and soon you will feel them
in your bones
in your soul
until one day you find
you are made of this
you are the vibrations
the melodies
and you may even discover
that you can float too

***** spread out like a planned vacation
Got me looking at it like I forgot to eat somethin'
Juicy fruit precipitation drippin' from the conversation
So I lick my lips just to ease the cravings
That tight lipped slit needs an interrogation
Welcome to the police station
Hands up, ******* down, **** out
Now get down and assume the position
Yeah, baby
I'm a Caucasian Freemason inpatient from New Haven
Basement unshaven - I call it the Night Raven,
But when your man's missing and you're
feeling impatient you can call it the ******* Replacement

He was born the year Babe hit 61,
Baptized by the Great Depression,
And confirmed in the South Pacific;
They jokingly called him the Million Dollar Baby.
No one knows why
Because he was one of millions who did what
Was right in a time when if they hadn't
Our world could have gone wrong.

And they expected not even a pat on the back for doing it.
They were beautiful.
He was beautiful, my dad.

He carried me even when I was old enough to walk
No complaints, no expectations beyond that I would
Do the same for mine.

I tried, but didn't do as well as he had done for me.

Now the Million Dollar Baby sits in a geri chair,
Cared for lovingly by his youngest girl.
Fading like his memory of who he was and what he did

But I will never forget.

Heaven will be lucky to get him,
I was luckier to have been his son.