More Old Stuff

Little Boy Blue
Little boy blue,
Go blow your horn
The sheep’s in the meadow
The cow’s in the corn

Little boy lost
Come back to me
Tell of adventures
Had high on the sea

Little boy cold
Let down your walls
Crack me a smile
Return my old calls

Little boy broken
Chin up, eyes down
Cold iron curtain
I smile, you frown

Little boy frightened
Please let me come in
I’m no big bad wolf
Nor devilish djinn

Little boy harrowed
I’ll tread with care
Your skeletons taunt me
But they wouldn’t dare

Little boy tired
Lay down to sleep
Your specters I’ll banish
Your safety I’ll keep

Little boy bitter
Let out the pain
Letting it canker
Won’t be to your gain

Little boy wary
Let down your guard
Mirror my feeling
I’m falling hard

Because I Sometimes Dig Through My Old Stuff

As a warning, this stuff is more structured than what I normally put up. It might not read as smoothly.

Unhinged
Why?
I ask,
A puzzled thing living
On my very own
Breathing, moving
Face

But she just
Smiles that sad smile
Shrugs that weary shrug
And says
Because sometimes people come unhinged

And I leave, breathing anger
Anger, because it’s lies
Lies that they cultivate
And I am so tired of
It
All

And I want to
Lay down,
Let the pebbles bruise me,
Give it up
But
Then I think
That maybe
I am coming
Unhinged


That Boy
There is this
Boy
Down on Avenue 68
I worry
About him, times

He has an old
Beat up
Straw hat on his
Beat up little head

It’s from my dad,
He says,
Hope simply bleeding
Out his eyes
My dad’s gonna
Come right up here,
Take me home
Says the
Straw Hat Boy


Snowgirl
Chilly
Yes, yes,
chilly.
Frustration
Frustration, frustration
frustration
It burrows under my skin
I like my skin
I like the smooth way it feels
I like that is keeps out germs
I like that.
But frustration
Urg
Why won't he stop talking?
Why does she keep looking over at me
after she tells her jokes?
I don't think they're funny!
Get over it!
How old are you?
Well maybe you should start acting your age
And when they do stop
Frustration
Because there's static stuck in my blood
It's in there, I can feel it.
It itches under my skin
My skin that I like
The skin that is so creamy-smooth
And the static turns
Into a bank of ice crystals
No, no, no, no!
Get them out
Get them out
I don't want to be chilly
Turn the thermostat up
Oh, hurry!
I'm not quite keen on being a snowgirl


Bobbin
I'm being forgetful again,
I know,
But have you
Perchance
Seen my bobbin?

It's got purple thread
I know it's here
Somewhere

But my memory is suffering
Would you mind
Coming just a little closer
So I can see
Who you are

My eyes are suffering, too
Is that it?
That purple shining thread just there

That's your hair?
No, dear, I said purple
You heard me?
Are you pulling my leg?
Who told you hair could be purple?
I hadn't a clue that it could be so

I am confused,
Pressure pushing harder on my
Concentration

Too many years
Weighing down my skin
Pulling my face into
Jack-o-lantern grins

What was that, dear?
Something about a bobbin?
What bobbin, my sweet?
No, I was not looking for one!
Do not try to confuse me!
I wasn't!
I promise, I wasn't


Fly Swatter
I bravely
Unsheathed my weapon
Lethal, like those in the War

The hordes of the foe
Right up close to me
And I

Cut my way
Through their ranks,
To their leader,

And I squash him
With my
Plastic fly-spatula


This is a Stickup
I love her
He says,
his voice strained
in a lover’s strain

I wish I could
smile
and jump
and hold
his dry, calloused
comfortable hands

But I can’t.

Because
there
is
a
gun
to my head

Fancifications

I kept a box in the corner
Little box in the corner
Bright colored paper with ribbon
I kept a box in the corner
And dressed it all up
So that no one would find it
Among the other pretty stuff
But now that you've found it
You don't want to let go
You say it's fascinating,
That you're learning things you didn't know
How do I know that
You're telling the truth
How do you do that?
Manage to point out my youth
I've got a little box in the corner
Bright colored paper and ribbon
Little little box in the corner
Where am I going to hide it now?
It's a safe for my letters
And jail for the darkness
A bowl for catching fresh-falling rain
Where am I going to put it now?
It's the closest I've got
To Pandora's chest
But it's still enough to incriminate
Box in the corner, blue satin wrapping
Box in the corner, tarnished brass clasps
Box in the corner, to hold me inside

Laughingly she turns away
She's just whistling in the dark
Just whistling in the dark
Nowhere else to go
So you've got to cry
Go ahead, then
But I'm not waiting for you
Screaming out at yourself
What are you doing?
Do you think you look older than four?
You don't
And I'm not waiting for you
Just hold on for a second?
I don't have a second
I don't have all day
What are you going to do,
What else can I say
There's nowhere else to go
Nowhere else to go

Because I've known too many Vets

Soldier
Look at how we treat our dear young men
Appointed to do our dirty work
While we are sitting down in comfort in our homes
We ask them to murder for our sins

Please do not hold your head down so low
And know that I forgive you from the bottom of
The hollow space that used to be my soul
Before it was stolen in the heartbreak of the world

Their hearts are laden down and bowed
With lead and the things we never should have left unsaid
Those things that are beating through their heads
And bruising all the beautiful clear air

“Little child listen close to me”
But do not hold their words as law
They have not seen the sights
That you wish you’d never saw

Maybe all you want is to go home
To curl up with the blankets up around your chin
To have a hand to hold as memories walk by
To have someone to hold you while you cry

The pain you go through
I do no pretend to comprehend
I will not insult you in that way
I can thank you for the days I live

But how can I apologize
For those who will not see the sun’s sweet light
Even one more time
With their dead and open staring eyes

Please do not hold your head so low
And pay your penance out with honor
Serve your sentence and know
That there is pridefulness in lingering too long
On things that only God above can heal

Let the gentling tide of evening come
But do not walk in shame you did not earn
Perhaps you did things you do not want to own
You thought once that you were serving for the good

My life and the lives of others
You have swayed
Are precious to us and our families
More than diamonds or foreign gems of jade

Please do not hold your head so low
Maybe you feel a debt
But do not walk in shame you did not earn
There is pridefulness in lingering too long
On things that only God above can heal