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 Jul 2010
Corkey Hawley
How dose your Ship Float?
Corkey Hawley
1982
How dose your Ship Float?

What do you do when
You lose the feeling

When your heart gets
Broken and you need healin’

Does another’s arms
Calm the storm for the night

Or does your ship sink
In the dark and quite

How many holes can you
Put into your ship

Expecting it to stay afloat
While on deck you flounder and slip



CH

New York City alive and
Live’n still

If the roaches don’t
Get ya, the taxes sure
Will

It’s ***** all year and
It stinks as bad as hell
But the actions so exciting
It gives ya such a thrill

1982



You & Me, Baby

You’re a lady
who needs a tender touch
You don’t like anything
That’s rushed….too much

I’ve seen the disappointment
In you eyes
I’ve tasted your tears
When you cry
We’ve been closer than
Any I believe
I’ve stayed longer then some
Should I leave?

You know it’s down to
You and me
Sometimes I think I
Should leave
Buy those baby blues
Plead please stay

Sing for me one more
Refrain for today
Please no more
Rain today

I’m not quite the bargain
You thought I’d be
I’m not as cheap to keep
As I claimed to be
I spent your dime
Take’n my time
Now heartache is the
Only thing I find in rhyme

I’m just that lonely
Guitar picker you found one night
Lookin’ for a home, some warmth,
And a feelin’ that felt right
You’re the one who saved
Me from myself
I could have died lonely
Without any help

When those who called
Them shelves my friend
Were stabbing me in the back
You showed me
that it wasn’t the end


CH ‘82



Street Music

There’s a lot of good people
Play’n music in the streets
Singing really fine for all
Gett’n little change for
Something to eat
They never ask for anything
They mostly sing and play for free
Freeze in winter, thaw in spring
Boogie in summer, the fall they never see
Most people don’t stop to listen
They’re to busy going by
They don’t know what they’re
Miss’n they don’t even stop
To wonder why

Street people play’n music
There’s a lot to pick from
Street people play’n music
Catch a song on the run
Street people play’n music
Lord knows I’ve been one




Wiley Words of Wit
Corkey Hawley  11-79

The hounds are hiding behind
Their burning bushes and
In flaming tongues they find
Some wisdom there in Whitman
And metaphysics in Donne’s
a kind
Of wily words of wit

These flaming, dancing tongues
Bound between the hounds
While beyond all burning tongues
A silver fox is found
Who leads the hounds upon a run
With wily words of wit

The bushes, they have burned
And scared the fox so deep
Now it’s the hound’s turn
To see and feel the heat
As the hounds pursue and yarn
For wily words of wit



Oh The Tropics


Living in the sunny tropics
That would be the life for me
Lying on the sands
With some *** in my hand
Toasting to the stars and the sea

Eating crab meat all day
Watching the palm trees sway
Never give a care for tomorrow
Just living down by the bay

Chorus:

They don’t make a Pinacolada
Like they do
in the South Seas
And the sun don’t shine
Like strawberry wine
Except in the South Seas

I’d strum my guitar on
Some old sand bar
And tan my form in the sun
Lay down for a while, and stay
With a smile until the day is done

Picking fruit form the trees
As much as you please
And taking more then you could eat
Find a friend on the beach
And give her a treat, maybe she’ll
Stay for a week



What A Way to Go

Met him in Seattle, he bellied up
To a bottle tellin’ lies in the Blue Moon Bar
His face was hard and traveled
And, as the lines unraveled I saw a man
Who could laugh about his scars

He said,” I got shanghaied in Vegas
By a painted woman
Hog tied by a ****** in Ohio
Derailed by a dancer down in Detroit
Lord women goin’a be the death of me
But what a way to go”

He said, a girl named Nancy
Once tickled his fancy
And he backed it up
With a fifty dollar smile
He laughed when he remembered
The pain of sweet surrender
But heartaches never seemed
To cramp his style

He said,” I got tongue tied
by a teacher in Tallahatchie
French fried by a waitress in Idaho
Way laid by a widow in Wyoming
Women goin’a be the death of me
But what a way to go”

CH ‘82



This Must Be Love

The sun came shining
Through my window today
Waking me from pleasant
Dreams I wished would stay
Then I felt your body
Next to mine
Warm’n my cares away
I almost thought that
Your love had gone astray

Chorus:
Is this love, love, love, sweet love?
All these feelings I’ve got inside
Is this love, love, love, sweet love?
All these feelings I can’t hide

The sound of, I love you,
is ring’n in my ears
As we hold each other tight
We draw each other so near
All I ever want or need
Are those precious words to hear
But then you know, the feelings
I’ve got aren’t quite clear

Chorus:




Here’s to…

Here’s to the morning light
Which I so seldom see
Here’s to the woman who
Cares for and comforts me

Here’s to the songs I write
Which are so seldom sung
And here’s to every blessed
Little thing I’ve ever done

The night it lasts forever
When I try to find some rhyme
That fits within the meter
And keeps a steady time

I could spend the night
Awake searching lines inside my head
Instead of turning in my pen
And taking comfort in my bed

She never understands
The reasons or the whys
For my midnight madness
Sometimes it makes her cry

I’ve never meant to hurt her
With my all night writing sprees
I just want to leave behind
some songs
A little part of me

CH
These R Poems & Songs 4 a forthcoming Book, "Corkey's poems, pix & songs, 4 & from a Pilgrim" due out summer of 2010, they can B used 4 nonprofit, anywhere-anytime. 4 profit contact CHa1953@aol.com
 Jul 2010
D Conors
When I walk alone and by myself
for a day or two or perhaps a minute,
nothing makes sense and everything does,
and I want to write without words
and love myself while hating me, too,
and prove to you the world is ours
or maybe just yours
when all is paved in pain
like some puzzle missing pieces vital.
But only when I walk alone.

When I have to be with you
for an entire day or a few minutes,
it all makes sense and it doesn't
and I want to talk in silence
and be your friend and maybe more
and prove virility while wrestling the lions
or just by simply holding you
when the tears fall from your eyes
like the blood from one thousand wounds
but only when I have to be with you.
D. Conors
c. 26 July 1988

"Pieces Vital" was my first ever officially published work.
I still have the publisher's proof in my files.
 Jul 2010
D Conors
Coffee and Tea, I'll take them both,
Light me up another smoke,
Have a piece of Shoo-Fly pie,
Hear the birdies in the sky,
Take my pen in trembling hand,
Compose some poetry, if I can.
D. Conors
09 July 2010
 Jul 2010
D Conors
I am,
however, no hero,
just a lowly poet
in the always
and forever
quest for the pursuit of
truth...
D. Conors
08 July 2010
 Jun 2010
D Conors
i think about you all day long
no matter
how soft the thought
or dear sweet the song...
d. conors
c.22 June 2010
 Apr 2010
Sam S.
This is not really a poem, but a song...

It's a corny little song for saying goodbye to everyone.

VI:
Goodbye,
We’ll meet again,
I’ve said it so many times.
That’s why
There’s no pain,
It’s ok, I don’t hurt inside.
You might
Forget my name,
But I’ll still recognize on sight.
That’s why,
I’ll say this
One more effing time...

Ch:
Goodbye and farewell
I’ll see you someday
In a year or maybe 12.
See you soon and au revoir
I’ll miss you some days
And I won’t on others.

VII:
So why
Bother to cry?
I’m not exactly dead.
I’ll try
To dream you at night
To call you so you won’t fret.
Let’s defy
The social norm
And still be our best friends.
That’s why
I’ll say this
From miles away this time...

Ch:
Goodbye and farewell
I’ll see you someday
In a year or maybe twelve.
See you soon and au revoir
I’ll miss you some days
And I won’t on others.

The VIDEO is here - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XRkNhYhkSb4
Watch so you know what it sounds like :)
All rights belong to Sam S.
 Mar 2010
Absent Minded
Paul sang of the winding road
that Papa said aint got no rules.
But there’s a million miles out there of highway
always begging my soul to move.

Sitting still at the speed of light
counting seconds and I’m watching minutes.
It seems as you move down along the bank
it’s all in how you spin it.

Fluid motion like a raging stream
got a heart like a rolling stone.
That never passes on that next big bend
and just rests them bones at home.

So as the moments well they fly right by
you never see what the gardner grows.
Long before the leaves they turn to brown
and the sky begins to snow…

Don’t know where I’m going,
I only know where I been.
I can’t find the end of the rainbow
and it’s starting to rain again.

— The End —