Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
A five-dollar garage-sale record player
A five-cent-piece Scotch-taped onto the arm
A plastic K-Mart special from long ago
A groovy thing for a junior high kid

But he was a thirty-something day-laborer
And in the silent cell of his solitude
Wanted to spin some tunes in the darkness
Just like he did when he was a junior high kid

A five-dollar garage-sale record player
Wagner, Sinatra, McKuen - and hope
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is: Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com

It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  THE ROAD TO MAGDALENA, PALEO-HIPPIES AT WORK AND PLAY, LADY WITH A DEAD TURTLE, DON’T FORGET YOUR SHOES AND GRAPES, COFFEE AND A DEAD ALLIGATOR TO GO, and DISPATCHES FROM THE COLONIAL OFFICE.
Ours is a time in which crazed youths leave their homes, weapons in hand
Ours is a time in which skin colour and place birth mean more than they should
Ours is a time in which the rich rule the poor and the poor long to be rich
Ours is a time in which the temperature is rising, but engines keep running
Ours is a time in which true hope is in short supply but anger abounds
Ours is a time in which security is longed for but denied to so many

Ours is a time in which everything must change

Because times like these cannot continue
22 die in El Paso Walmart shootings
9 die in Dayton Ohio shooting including the assassins sister
Recognize me
If I had floral eyes
Reasons to live:
1) New releases
2) Color
3) Cats (Milkshake)
4) Lamps
5) Windows
For the first time
In a long time
I looked at the mirror
And saw myself
Or a reflection
Of what's left of my shadow
And I realized
Life is a soundless song
And I have forgotten
How to dance
To its tune
Come and lay
Hold me close
Don’t explore

Just be still
Shut out the world
Clear the sounds
Close your eyes
Inhale
Exhale

Feel my warmth
Feel my love

Touch my face
******* lips

Our tongues dancing
To the sound of Debussy
Our hands wonder

Our souls meet
You are inside
Don’t leave yet
Don’t stop
Don’t move

We wake
To the sound of Debussy
You never left
You didn’t move...
I can't begin to understand,
What it's like to walk at your side,
Hand in hand.

It's always been a dream,
Yet so far it seems.
And sometimes I tear
And fall apart at the seams.

It takes a moment,
To make or break a heart.
Just a word from your lips,
And love starts,
Or falls apart.

I wish you could hear my heart,
And wish yours would beat the same,
Because at night I stare at the ceiling,
And I just think of your name.
You are
Gold dust
Rare

You are
Gold dust
Shine

You are
Gold dust
Precious

You are
Gold dust
You are amazing
Next page