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#giovanni
It was a hot summer night Nearly ninety, I'd say When out back of Giovannis The Bluesman sat down to play He pulled up his crate Took a sip from his flask "This here's my med-cin" "In case someone happens to ask" He started a story That we'd never heard We're the folks of the street And we followed each word It's a tale of James Withers A man in need of a hand But to us on the street He was the Sand Castle Man The bluesman strummed gently He didn't want the words to be lost For this was a story That had a hell of a cost You see, James the sand man Lost a life to the sea His grandson, young James Drowned when he was just three Each day James went down With his grandson in tow They'd make castles together Some fast and some slow One day the pair Were at the end of the pier When a rogue wave hit hard And took what James held most dear His grandson...swept out Lost at sea, never found They searched for three weeks But the poor boy was drowned James kept a vigil Every day on the beach He'd look out on the water His heart out of reach He kept making sand castles As he did with young James With shells and old driftwood And he gave them all names He'd have non-existent armies Fight non existent wars In his hard packed sand castles He carved windows and doors There was make believe dragons In pools by the sea Guarding make believe princesses Who no one could see There were turrets and moats And each day he'd build one To be lost to the tide As the days work was done Each day a new castle Each day a new war But, nobody knew What he was building them for The tide would come in And would sweep it away All that hard work Gone at the end of the day But, each morning he'd come Build one more for the tide With invisible armies To flow away for a ride People would watch him Make the castles of sand With imaginary soldiers In imaginary lands The bluesman sang soft Took a sip once again From the flask on his hip It's just medi-cin The crowd didn't stir We were like moths to the flame As we heard the bluesman finish his tale about James I asked him one morning If he ever would end Building castles of sand He said, Bluesman, my friend I know that each castle Will be washed out to see And I hope that my grandson Gets a message from me I make each sand castle Like we both used to do I come back every day And start another anew It helps with the closure I send my soul to the sea And I hope that my grandson Knows they're for him made by me He finished and thanked us And we went on our way All of us changed some From what the bluesman did play Next time I'm out wandering And see the castles of sand I'll know what he's building Now...that I understand
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Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
The Man Who Made Sand Castles
It was a hot summer night Nearly ninety, I'd say When out back of Giovannis The Bluesman sat down to play He pulled up his crate Took a sip from his flask "This here's my med-cin" "In case someone happens to ask" He started a story That we'd never heard We're the folks of the street And we followed each word It's a tale of James Withers A man in need of a hand But to us on the street He was the Sand Castle Man The bluesman strummed gently He didn't want the words to be lost For this was a story That had a hell of a cost You see, James the sand man Lost a life to the sea His grandson, young James Drowned when he was just three Each day James went down With his grandson in tow They'd make castles together Some fast and some slow One day the pair Were at the end of the pier When a rogue wave hit hard And took what James held most dear His grandson...swept out Lost at sea, never found They searched for three weeks But the poor boy was drowned James kept a vigil Every day on the beach He'd look out on the water His heart out of reach He kept making sand castles As he did with young James With shells and old driftwood And he gave them all names He'd have non-existent armies Fight non existent wars In his hard packed sand castles He carved windows and doors There was make believe dragons In pools by the sea Guarding make believe princesses Who no one could see There were turrets and moats And each day he'd build one To be lost to the tide As the days work was done Each day a new castle Each day a new war But, nobody knew What he was building them for The tide would come in And would sweep it away All that hard work Gone at the end of the day But, each morning he'd come Build one more for the tide With invisible armies To flow away for a ride People would watch him Make the castles of sand With imaginary soldiers In imaginary lands The bluesman sang soft Took a sip once again From the flask on his hip It's just medi-cin The crowd didn't stir We were like moths to the flame As we heard the bluesman finish his tale about James I asked him one morning If he ever would end Building castles of sand He said, Bluesman, my friend I know that each castle Will be washed out to see And I hope that my grandson Gets a message from me I make each sand castle Like we both used to do I come back every day And start another anew It helps with the closure I send my soul to the sea And I hope that my grandson Knows they're for him made by me He finished and thanked us And we went on our way All of us changed some From what the bluesman did play Next time I'm out wandering And see the castles of sand I'll know what he's building Now...that I understand
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104
he wanted to be the redwood tree among the giants but she refused to be his sun he wanted to be the lion hunting in the wild but she refused to be his jungle he turned every direction and became dizzy and looking for his balance he turned to her but she refused to be level he tried to become a romance but she was too hurt he turned himself into light but she always carried a blanket of dark he decided to become a man and though she refused to still be a woman he decided to love her anyway
0
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
Man
If there's doubt it's probably wrong If it burns it's because it's hot If it breaks it was never strong If it's real it can't be bought If it rains it's bound to pour If it makes you crazy you should run If it truly sees you it won't ignore If it's intended there's probably a pun If it's perfect it's definitely flawed If there's no proof then it's not legit If it perpetrates it's a bonafide fraud If it's not the right size it's not a good fit If it meets you halfway that's not enough If it hurts it can't possibly be true love
0
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 9:12 AM UTC
What It's Not