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Sjr1000 Sep 25
They give you the wings
To fly,
Music makes you smile
Allows you to glide
Allows you to cry

The old man with the dementia
sings along with every lyric
He remembers from the prom

Music takes the mood
turns it into something new
Blows the emotional weather

Music gives you Grace
Takes you into it's embrace
Songs say what you mean
reveal what you see
reveal what you've seen

Every break up
Every getting together

God comes and goes
in gospel tones

Every one knows
About war and peace

The rhythm of the heart
is the music before sleep
The sound track of our lives .
Sympathetic empathas saying words,
That are read from a script,
No one knew how to write,
It's early and cars,
Driving to,
Another paid bill,
Or whatever Thomas said,
Expierences fulfilled by fuel,
Maybe they aren't driving,
Or drinking,
might just be,
making babies in the,
Or whatever Keats said,
Distantly dancing,
To kindergarteners and,
cancer patients,
Just another Thursday,
With mystic music,
Lofting around,
The empty dance halls,
Falling up,
With Christopher Robbins,
To the stars,
The bus is on time
Or whatever Dylan said.
Sjr1000 Sep 12
My life is an onion peeled by time
An artichoke one leaf at a time
The heart of the matter lays within
Where the tears, the love and acceptance reside.
Sjr1000 Aug 14
Have you ever had a Dusty Baker year?
We're talking baseball for a moment here.

Went from .320
To .230
Forty homeruns to three

Every decision made was the wrong one
Every one you should of made
You never did.

Reoccurring themes pop up
Like fireworks on a low cloud night sky
Your dancing on fire
Burning up inside

It was all so right for a while

Now out of the groove
Out of the zone
It all feels so wrong
A Dusty Baker year if I ever saw one

They all kind of end in the end
But every time
You leave that man on third
When you coulda sworn that curve ball
Was going to be outside

It makes you wonder
If it's going to begin again
Not quite that bad for Dusty, .290 to .260 (1977) poetry not history
Sjr1000 Aug 1
My name is Robin
I'm an alcoholic
I'm a drug addict too
'May cause drowsiness '
I'm coming for you

I used to be sexually addicted
****** from the Motel 6
On Hollywood boulevard

Long nights
One more web site to go

I'm a compulsive gambler
'The game ain't over
The cigarette money is gone'

QVC & Christianity
They had my number
The fourth bankruptcy was denied
My parents, they had died
Where does salvation come from

Ran a rehab
Functional as a goliath
Never had any excess funds
Ran the fine line between
playing it straight in supermarkets and certifibile madness
The oldest living road show in America

I'm ready to turn my life over
I surrender
I thought I knew it all
My best thinking got me here
I don't know much about anything
I'm ready to learn about everything."
Sjr1000 Jul 19
People come
People go

People stay awhile
People leave

Until that last exit sign
I'll be staying here with you.
Nonsense hiding in an autobiography,
Starting down dusty roads,
Where you truly found yourself,
Daring the mountains and questioning the cold,
To high rises with coke that guy you didn’t know too well brought,
She was there naked and gleaming,
Maybe she had od’d but ****,
She’s great at acting,
Just ask her mom,
You saw her face before,
In flashes of hot breath playing against,
Folk songs and guitars in a punk bathroom,
You didn’t know the faces then,
But you will,
Trust me,
You will,
Weren’t you there at the great protests,
Arm bands and water riots?
You saw what they saw,
But really,
“it’s poetry, not an autobiography”
Spelling errors speak to those who are deaf,
And you say it like it’s fact,
What else do you got?
You remember staring down a gun,
That didn’t belong to you,
In fact it wasn’t aimed at you,
It was aimed at them and all you could do was shake,
But the shakes don’t change when you,
Wake up the same,
You cant shake you,
You told me that while we layed in the sun,
Pointing out constellations,
I said,
It’s morning,
Why talk?
All I heard was a sigh,
But through the onomatopoeias,
I heard things like,
You cant see the stars but the sun still shines,
Whatever that means,
the rest of the day didn’t matter,
and you traveled again,
where’d you go now?
Maybe your letter will help,
Or maybe the call you sent is the way you,
Tried to send a pick-me-up,
Or maybe it’s just *******,
Either way,
Either way,
We’ll answer.
For my father.
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