intro . . .
Have you ever noticed how many wild-guys out there through-out the world-over who have a wild-streak that are named Jim or James or Jimmy?
I mean take a look at the personalities of the many famous and not so famous men who are just a bit left-of-center and rebellious in nature.
For instance Jimmi Hoffa or take wild guitar man Jimmy Page or the great actor James Cagney or James Mason. Now consider Jimmi Stewart or James Garner.
What about everyones favorite spy James Bond. The wild genius of Jim Carrey. The old time character vaudvillian master Jimmy Durante. What about the historical
Jimmy-The-Greek. The rebellious outlaw Jesse James. What about the many musical legends like James Taylor or Jimmy Buffet. Who isn't amazed by the one and only
James Brown? What about Jim Morrison of The Doors or one-of-a-kind Jimi Hendrix. Then there's the wonder of James Dean himself - the ultimate hellion.
Well I wrote a song for them all... it's an original number called...  

Jimmy Rebel

by:  David Wayne Clare   aka David John clare

Hard Rockin' Country  (Rebellion Theme)

You've been upset for so long, at your dad, and at your sister
We heard your mom, she run and gone, well you're not sure to where but you know you'll miss her

Fed up with all the lies, never found true family ties
Not much, to leave behind, got some friends, but theyre not your kind


Well... Jimmy Rebel, meaner than the devil
His world is so hard to understand
Whoa... Jimmy Rebel, you got a score you got to settle
Youve taken all you can, stupid kid . . . brilliant man

You dont get pushed around, though people put you down,
Yeah, some would even throw rocks at you
You were born to speak out loud, without making any sound
Known by some ***** looks, a collection of scars, lifes true tattoos
You've lived the black and blues

Whoa... Jimmy Rebel, badder than the devil
This world's so hard to understand
Jimmy Rebel, you got a score you got to settle
Come on you know the plan, ugly boy... **** man

Feels like everybody hates you, yet you never run and hide
You're from a broken mobile home; yet your heart is double -wide
No matter how strange youre made to feel, you wont get pushed aside
Standing tall in a cruel crowd, not many a man could out survive
Out survive...

Jimi Rebel, stronger than the devil
some say...
Hes got the master plan
Jimmi Rebel
Gotta score you gotta settle
Now he knows they cant understand just what it is...
Yet I can...  yet I can... yes I can understand

Jimi Rebel

Stranger in a strange land
Viscous one deserves a medal
He knows they cant understand, just what it is...

Yet I can, Yes I  can, yes I can
YES... I  Can . . . .

D. CLARE   (c) In Perpetuity  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
JET-SET  21ST  CENTURY  PRODUCTIONS
Clairvoyant Music / BMI

Following les Beat en less path
A little mixed up
Yup

One sweet dream came true today
Came true today
Came true today (Yes it did)

One two three four five six seven
All good children go to Heaven
One two three four five six seven
All good children go to Heaven
One two three four five six seven
All good children go to Heaven
One two three four five six seven
All good children go to Heaven
One two three four five six seven
All good children go to Heaven
One two three four five six seven
All good children go to Heaven
One two three four five six seven
All good children go to Heaven
One two three four five six seven
All good children go to Heaven (fade out)

Where did the ring go?

Writing
about writing
is pathetic,
so instead
I’ll write about that time
in March when we went
hiking along ridgetops and
firetrails, and the sun
baked the rocks hard and impassive
to our boots. The orange-and-white tracks
folded back upon
themselves and seemed
so illogical that we thought
somehow we were going
in circles
(round the Sun we missed
that one it felt like we
weren’t moving)

For lunch you had squished
peanut butter and
sardine sandwiches because
you’re odd and idiosyncratic
like that, and I had apples
and muesli bars because I’m
too lazy to make lunch
at 6 in the morning.
We ate on a huge rock
overlooking trees and Lucy
in the Sky with Diamonds was
playing on the radio.
It felt as if we were two
enclosed in a small
self-erected hazecloud
where birds and lizards
and just breeze mingles
surprisingly well with John Lennon’s
recollections.

I remember the sun-scored rocks
had stored up warmth
from years of Marchdays like
today, they stayed warm slightly
longer than the air did.
We tasted each other’s
post-lunch mouths (you were
sardine and kind of gross)
and pretended like
our hands were ants,
scuttling aimlessly
(we had an aim)

I liked to think my fingers
were all elegant and smooth
as the moon.
I love you and I want
to make you happy here,
I love you and I want you
to make me happy here,
i should sleep – you should sleep –
we should sleep together.

I still remember that Marchday
when we went hiking and I’ve
written about it
dozens of times before in different
modes with other characters
but
to be honest I
don’t want to write about
anything else.

I set a paper rocket flyin', and it hurtled into space
breaking off gravity - all the way to Mars orbity!

Now everyone's surprised, coz a mere paper rag
flew up high and reached that rarefied lile where
only the costliest of junkets lounge leisurely by.

They said you're stupid, you got a paper twit to beg
and you've wampered even that away: how dares
a hungry haggard send missives down the skies?

I stand staring, starry eyed. This is an old squint,
that I got learning to look the other way as
my brothers starved and pottered on the streets
when cotton and coal funneled to Manchester leets.

But last heard, papa John's makin' paper boats
to swim by them snooty stars and there's a scramble
at my yards to get some ******* to the Moon.

If yet I have not all thy love
For loving is never enough
I must do more than pray
Both increased by gratitude

And the desire to love more
If yet I have not all thy love
I thought, dream it, enjoy it
I cannot deny, I share it

Fiercely and without restraint
If yet I have not all they love
I who am so little wise, so humble
So simple, deare perhaps I

Shall never have thee all
My stature was made small by
Nature, my wit outbid by
More generous fates, my time

More short and partial to trials
If yet I have not all they love
Be it said that love’s riddles were
Unpublishable to me, triumphs

As if out of reach, treasures
Undeserved, comforts unmet
If yet I have not all they love
Do not bargain but say farewell

Deare, well I know, I shall never
Have all of thee, never know thy
Full heart, love doth every day admit
The worthy choice of my lost destiny.

In the bag of death he lay,
all zipped up, here to stay.

Upon his toe, there hangs a tag,
Dead on Arrival, lies on the slab.

Eyes closed shut, red everywhere.
Taken away,  nobody cares.

His pain is gone, he cries no more.
Silence is simple, down to the core.

Shot in the chest, wouldn't you know?
Another victim is gone named John Doe.

falling out of love with you
was like falling asleep.
first slowly and then all at once.

If people were rain…
Then I must be drizzle,
And you…
A hurricane.
It’s the way people present themselves,
A first impression.
You came in and left destruction in your wake.
Destruction was everywhere… in everyone.
Including me.
You were one of those hurricanes that they named… although the name, I never heard.
Funny, because no one else saw, heard, or felt the effects of you like I did.
I was the sole survivor….
And the only one who experienced the hell you brought forth.
Me, being the drizzle… I came, and then left.
I only lasted for a couple of minutes.
Some days I think about what the world would be like if you hadn’t come as a hurricane.
If you hadn’t destroyed every ounce of my self-confidence… self-determination...
If you came as a monsoon, or a tsunami… both similar, yet with different lasting effects.
Instead you chose a severe storm, a high wind.
The effects on me, you never bother to figure out, because you’re too busy being unhappy yourself.
You see me, right? I moved on.
So why can’t you?

“How do I get out of this Labyrinth of suffering?”
“Straight and fast.”
“Forgive”

There’s never really an answer.

I met you.
Friends, yeah. That’s how it started out.

But friends… almost never stay “just friends” forever.

Think about it.

Kindergarten. You thought they would be there by your side forever.

Junior High. A giant wake up call. Those people you thought you knew? They aren’t the same.

High School. New people. A new chapter. Okay, great. Make friends. Make promises you can’t keep.

Now.


Things complicated themselves in a way I would have never imagined.

I looked at you the same way I always did.

You were my best friend. You told me things that made me realize that life… it’s not so beautiful. I stayed awake every night. Wondering if you were going to live to see the next day, to see me. Wondering if I would be the last person you told:

“I love you, past Pluto”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”
“I promise.”
Or
“I never meant to hurt you.”

Well you did. It was never the kind of physical hurt that left you in agony for only a few hours. No, this was an emotional hurt. The kind that left you scared, worried, anxious. The kind that knew it was all your fault. That knew you were the reason they hated themselves, the reason they wanted to die.

Yeah, that kind of hurt runs deeper.

So I sat there everyday. Not able to focus, not able to think about anyone but you.

And then…


Bam.

You hit me with news that I didn’t know what to do with. So I told. I told her everything. It’s not like I could keep it piled up. I would have drowned. Both mentally, and physically. Yeah, you didn’t realize it. But it was that bad.

Well, it’s not like I told her everything. She figured out most of it.

And after, I felt awful. Like I broke a promise. I’m pretty sure I did, but at least I told someone whom I knew you trusted also. It was a heck of a lot better to have someone to talk to about everything. Someone else that I knew would try her hardest to understand.

See my problem? Of course not. I haven’t told you everything.

The news. Right. How could I forget?

You told me you loved me. Not the “you’re-my-best-friend” type of way, but the “I-want-to-date-you” type of way.

So here’s a question. What do you do when your best friend:

1) Self harms (sometimes because of you)
2) Loves you. Like, really loves you.

My answer: I don’t know.

You think I have all the answers. But I don’t.

I don’t know why you self harm.
I don’t know why you love me.
I don’t know how to make things better.
I don’t know why you’re so upset.
I don’t know what to do.

I love you. I’ve told you that before. But not the way you love me.

“It’s not the same.” You say.

I know it’s not. And I feel worse and worse every day because it’s not the same. I know it hurts you.

I don’t want to hurt you.

There’s my problem.

Back to the labyrinth.

Straight and fast: There’s no way that’s happening. I’d **** both of us in the process. You, because you would never know how much you mean to me. How responsible I feel for you. How much I love you. You would never know.
Me, because I’d **** you. And because of that, I’d have to go.

Forgive: That’s not the answer, in my case. Who do I forgive here? I can’t forgive myself. Because I’m the reason you hate living. I can’t forgive you. You’ve done nothing wrong.

So when asked the question:

“How do I get out of this labyrinth of suffering?”

My answer is simple.

“There is no way out.”