early before dawn, hen’s start peckin
rooster crowin, my blues get goin
my song I’m singin, leads me to the water
under that longing sky, sunrise and sunset
ends where one begins; and for a second
I can see it
and with Kerouac’s godly finger pointed
straight to me and saying…
‘go boy, go! roll your bones!’
all possibility balancing on the end of a baseball bat
saying, take it, try and take it…and I hesitate…
(when you are young, you preach your beliefs
like a loaded canon weighted in proof readers blues
welcoming all to that table, take a slice; how is it?
tastes real; because it is, as real as its ever gets to be
…for that moment… you see it
and once that moment passes late in a staircase not wanting to go home
wrapped in trance that can leave well enough alone
you feel that welcoming again to the table; how is it?
hurts real; because it is, as real as its ever gets to be
…for that moment… you see it
a moments memory is today’s aperitif with leavened bread
the destiny that expectations sweep under the rugs
the mind is willing yet the heart devours insatiable pride
one worth of regret steeped in hardened alibi
that place that lands … character)
I want all my failures back, not to keep but to now show that I could get a passing grade
then apologize for then being in so over my head
I don’t want to blame anyone else for anything anymore
hey, I made choices too… everybody does…
we’ll own up to them together…
when using my cliché I stumbled on my old name and number
so I wondered; how’m I doin? and I go to make a reservation…
welcoming all to the table, take a slice; how is it?
and it tastes real; because it is, as real as its ever gonna be
and it hurts real; because it is; sunrise and sunset
… ends where one begins… for that moment… I see it
December 24, 2007
© woundedlordliterature
ШАМРО
rooster crowin, my blues get goin
my song I’m singin, leads me to the water
under that longing sky, sunrise and sunset
ends where one begins; and for a second
I can see it
and with Kerouac’s godly finger pointed
straight to me and saying…
‘go boy, go! roll your bones!’
all possibility balancing on the end of a baseball bat
saying, take it, try and take it…and I hesitate…
(when you are young, you preach your beliefs
like a loaded canon weighted in proof readers blues
welcoming all to that table, take a slice; how is it?
tastes real; because it is, as real as its ever gets to be
…for that moment… you see it
and once that moment passes late in a staircase not wanting to go home
wrapped in trance that can leave well enough alone
you feel that welcoming again to the table; how is it?
hurts real; because it is, as real as its ever gets to be
…for that moment… you see it
a moments memory is today’s aperitif with leavened bread
the destiny that expectations sweep under the rugs
the mind is willing yet the heart devours insatiable pride
one worth of regret steeped in hardened alibi
that place that lands … character)
I want all my failures back, not to keep but to now show that I could get a passing grade
then apologize for then being in so over my head
I don’t want to blame anyone else for anything anymore
hey, I made choices too… everybody does…
we’ll own up to them together…
when using my cliché I stumbled on my old name and number
so I wondered; how’m I doin? and I go to make a reservation…
welcoming all to the table, take a slice; how is it?
and it tastes real; because it is, as real as its ever gonna be
and it hurts real; because it is; sunrise and sunset
… ends where one begins… for that moment… I see it
December 24, 2007
© woundedlordliterature
ШАМРО
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