depression rears it’s ugly head with no desire to do anything
except lay in bed scroll sleep wake up and eat watch tv sleep and sleep
sitting in silence listening to the fan spin and wondering why i bother
why i’m still here when nothing i do even matters
that everyone would be happier without me around to bother them
it’s the kind of time of life where the only real peace of mind to be found is in bob dylan
the old bob dylan that you find in broken cd cases floating in forgotten thrift store music stacks
the songs of a young person who didn’t know where he was going in a crazy and unjust world he couldn’t control as it fell apart around his ears
bob dylan never has any answers for me just rambles on another interlude of mournful harmonica until i remember he told me where the answers are and the answers aren’t easy to find
up there in the sky whistling around bare tree branches holding up birds’ wings letting a lost balloon travel thousands of miles from the tightly clenched hand of the child who lost it
how many years has it been? and i’m still here blowing in the wind
the winds are busy too busy to stop for one second and just give me the answer
why am i even here?
i don’t want to be here maybe this earth just isn’t for me
or maybe i should give up on whatever is left here for me hop on a bus and become some kind of modern rambling man
because i don’t know and almost don’t care what i’m doing here doing right now
all i want is sleep even half conscious muddled sleep anything to distract from the grotesquely realistic nightmare that is real life
or maybe i’ll get utterly wasted on cheap *** and miserable thoughts drown them out until something stronger than the alcohol pulls me down something strong like sleep
because now when it’s time to sleep i find myself completely unable to
i’m trying to look at the positives trying to see this as an opportunity but all i can see is an eternity stretching before me of what if’s and maybe this and why and why not and who do i want to be what do i want to do
a lifetime of indecisions rolls its carpet out in front of my feet
i wasn’t ready i’m not ready now i’ll probably never be ready for anything
what am i even doing
no answers to be found here in this poem just rambling as the cd spins on until it scratches to a halt rub my eyes press play hope maybe on this go round i can find an answer
but the thing i never seem to remember is there isn’t any answer to be found
not when it’s flown away and is up in the clouds watching the sunset and the stars begin to pop out of the deep blue
1You gotta lotta nerve to play it clean You know you gotta play it real It’s a long life and I’ve already seen I don’t expect you to know how I feel You’re insulting my smarts and now he’s gonna lose his spleen
You used to love being with me Took me a lot of niches to fill you see I turned away all other ******* To take care of all the hitches
2We’d been in love since we were seventeen We’d shared class since we could dream Sharing lunch in the canteen Putting insects on your shoulders laughing when you’d scream What went wrong and I had to start wondering where you’d been You gotta lotta of nerve asking why I wonder when was it a tie I haven’t met the guy Nor should I
3But you force me like I need to be a jealous guy Like I still need to be your idea of a man Forcing me till he needs to die And then situating me hanging from ceiling fan The last thought imagining you two sharing a whiskey in rye
I thought you’re used to loving me But sometime I should have made it three But it’s a marriage decree That there should be no polygamy
4You gotta lotta nerve asking me Why we won’t just go for a ménage-a-trois Why couldn’t you just break up with me Instead of waiting for me to get home and go woah But you wanted an idea of me instead of just plain old me
Does he have abs and still love you ***** Or have a flat tummy and has to bend his knee I don’t care if he loves you Because he’s in trouble because it’s not a love that’s true
5You needed me Found me funny and wanted a nuclear family After all for just a kid we didn’t need to call his granny and granddaddy But the dream is gone and probably leaving me I needed us to be three
You’ve gotta lotta nerve stagnating me Now not anymore I’ve found listless liberty And so have you only you have got it free And the divorce the idea of a married me
4We will never share the crimson sky Understand the meaning of old age together Spending dusk drinking tea Understanding the weather Instead of making it our small talk because it comes free
Don’t miss the idea of feeling young When feeling old Only when you’re with a person who has sacrificed to feel the pride of being unsung That’s the beauty of not being bold
3You used love me when you were seventeen Now I know the ways you found to talk to me I was a **** and too bad now to me you were just a teen
2I want to beat that infidel Who’ll end up just like me but instead he’ll ******
1So you gotta lotta nerve to reminisce times because I wished you would marry me so now I'll wait till I'm forty three
A guy walks in on his wife with another guy. And feels forced to **** her lover but doesn't want go to jail. So he'll wait till he's forty three because this relationship was fail.
All your false securities will not protect you in any degree when the Man descends from the sky to see if he or she or them or we will surrender to him finally and gather all most nobly beneath the sun, the Eden tree and bid that man must bend the knee. Will we cast aside our crowns, our pride and recognize that what we idolize - the dollar bill, the satyrized faked-out phoney false franchise that man has made as a disguise to keep distracted the hungry eyes - will not serve to get us by but to keep us down and cold and empty?
A verse inspired by Bob Dylan's "It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)."
The fig tree metaphor Seems to gain much more meaning The older I get. I put a cigarette behind my ear today And when I removed it to smoke I realized that it was wet with the oil From my scalp; I smoked it anyway.
Does smoking my ****** fluids Make me seem a little more Bukowski than normal? Bob Dylan, the unwashed phenomenon Of his day Held no candle (in my opinion) To Phil Ochs But here we are, Marching on Because the Times Are Changing.
Remember me When the draft comes And they forget your sunken eyes and sallow skin. Remember me and how I said That purple and yellow Were my favorite colors.
You were telling him about Buddha, you were telling him about Mohammed in the same breath You never mentioned one time the Man who came and died a criminal’s death.* [Bob Dylan: Precious Angel]
If Christ and His Gospel are offered you you squirm—then dredge up the gods of the East. Your act of avoidance is nothing new— salvation proposed: evasion increased. Waxing socialistic – as if on cue your blustering is consistent, at least. you brandish your anti-Christ point of view. Descending like Darwin: angel to beast. In Babylon’s gardens you disembark to deconstruct Noah, the flood, the ark. On Gilgamesh, Enkidu, in madness you ramble—and it fills me with sadness. There is one truth, undiscerned, unadored. Be still. In silence, acknowledge your Lord.
Proof #1: Man has no natural desire or ability to obey or please God for salvation.
Proof #2: God expressly denies man's will or works in obtaining salvation.
Proof #3: Faith and works are results of salvation, not conditions or means for it.
Proof #4: Jesus Christ saves sinners by Himself without any human cooperation.
Proof #5: The gospel and its ordinances were never intended to give eternal life.
Proof #6: The Bible gives examples of sinners saved without any conditions.
Proof #7: Unconditional salvation is the only doctrine giving God all the glory.
Forever Young** Written and arranged and recorded by: Bob Dylan
May God bless and keep you always May your wishes all come true May you always do for others And let others do for you May you build a ladder to the stars And climb on every rung May you stay forever young Forever young, forever young May you stay forever young.
May you grow up to be righteous May you grow up to be true May you always know the truth And see the lights surrounding you May you always be courageous Stand upright and be strong May you stay forever young Forever young, forever young May you stay forever young.
May your hands always be busy May your feet always be swift May you have a strong foundation When the winds of changes shift May your heart always be joyful And may your song always be sung May you stay forever young Forever young, forever young May you stay forever young.
**Forever Young** Written and arranged by: Bob Dylan
It's dangerous when your biggest role models spent their lives drinking, smoking and gambling but maybe it's worth it if it inspires you to write something that is at least 1 % as great as their works cause 1 % of their greatness is ******* amazing
For my four favorite writers: Charles Bukowski, Dorothy Parker, Bob Dylan and Tom Waits.