Do What You Do Best

Sometimes you’re asked to stand in line,
to wait your turn, to give me mine,
to be what someone else defines
but sometimes someone’s wrong,
sometimes someone’s wrong.
Walk where he’s tread, step in her shoes,
somebody tells you you’ve never been blue,
someone thinks he understands you,
but sometimes someone’s wrong,
sometimes someone’s wrong.
Don’t matter if you fail their test,
Don’t sweat what’s said by all the rest
Don’t worry when you’re second-guessed,
Just do what you do best.
There’s a flower in that field out there
that we can’t see, but doesn’t care
‘cause blindness can’t quite be compared
to someone sometimes wrong,
and sometimes someone’s wrong.
And someone sees me late at night
through window panes, guitar upright
against the wall, a writer’s plight;
sometimes I get it wrong,
‘cause sometimes someone wrong.
Don’t matter if I fail their test,
Don’t sweat what’s said by all the rest
Don’t worry when I’m second-guessed
Just do what I do best
Just do what I do best

How About You

Always musicians who played all around me,
my father, his mother who’d play any key,
that kid with that cool guitar sitting outside
in the shade during recess playing all of the chords
to Norwegian Wood, then the rock bands in high school,
and college days avant-garde jazz-like kept playing,
yet I never played, and can’t recall why except
I think I thought I should sound just like them [but]
I’m getting over what
I thought once used to be,
I’m getting over me,
how about you?
And you used to live with those folks’ expectations
about the relations you kept on the side
of the bed, in your head, and around the next corner,
Jack Horner pie-covered had nothing on you.
Just ‘cause he ate berry crust doesn’t mean we can’t
trust his intentions, it’s his life to live
your life ain’t their life even though they thought so,
I think you thought you should be just like them, but
I’m getting over what
I thought once used to be,
I’m getting over me,
how about you?
Once I was with my freinds marching through broken limbs
brave and young, wonderful; everything out ahead
nothing could stop us, tomorrow was nothing
‘cause we all knew everything, and no one knew us
Then something happened the moment I shot that quail
I didn’t know it had babies at home.
I was just aiming good, just like they said I should,
I think I thought I should be just like them
I’m getting over what
I thought once used to be,
I’m getting over me,
how about you?

Angels

I lost my sense of balance, while looking for my pride,
I lost and found my innocence then left my keys inside.
And my reasons weren’t quite good enough, excuses never hold,
the strings I bent weren’t broken in, my words were much too cold,
Then a blindman took me for a drive on a gray-soaked rainy day.
Then he handed me a steel string and I’ve never been the same ‘cause
I can’t build no steel furniture
don’t know no movie stars
but I’ve found angels,
I’ve found angels,
I’ve found angels
in this old guitar.
The first time that I held her I didn’t know my way
my fingers walked like strangers not knowing what to say.
I held her in my arms so close but struggled with my hands
her body rolled across my lap like the hills of some new land.
Her neck was strung with steel, shiny promises to keep,
a someday song, a tune to strum, a note to play and weep,
For someone there’s that morning dawn, a light before the day,
or an evening’s dusk, a twilight place, ten thousand shades of gray,
or maybe nothing stands out like that moon I can’t forget,
a sliver holding up a star, a sun that won’t decide to set.
I’ve seen some wonders, felt the pounding chords that make me hear,
I’ve walked the road alone at night but never will I fear.

Black Sheep

Black Sheep, black sheep against the fence
Why don’t you want to play?
I can’t see how solitude makes sense.
What’s that you’re trying to say?
What’s that you’re trying to say?
I’m not lonely. I’m just all alone
Black sheep, black sheep I’ll never understand
why you give your wool away
Don’t you know that treasures must be kept?
Keep it up you’ll go astray,
Keep it up you’ll lose your way.
I’m not lonely. I’m just all alone
Black sheep, black sheep I can’t hear your voice,
can’t see the things you say.
You see a star that burns away the night,
as night becomes the day,
as night becomes the day.

Crying Again

And she’s crying again like a siren again
Callin’ me in where the cold shadows fall.
And she’s fallin’ again, she keeps callin again,
pulling me in where my ears hear her call
She says she can never be where she can never be.
So I slowly crawl away, another night slips today
And we’re lying again low-flying again
Forgiving our sins where the preacher won’t go
I’m laughing again my caffeine again just kicking in
Where the cold winds can’t blow
She says she can never be where she can never be.
So I slowly crawl away, another night slips today
I hear crying again like a siren again
taking me in where I don’t want to go
And we’re falling again keep calling again
pulling me in where we don’t really know.

Lateral Drift

I get lost on the branches and can’t find the trunk.
I drink for companionship not to get drunk.
I’m a beat up old rowboat just about sunk,
drifting across the great blue,
and if it weren’t for this lateral drift
I’d‘a never found you.
if it weren’t for this lateral drift
I’d‘a never found you.
I’ve got no direction, I wander for days,
don’t know when it’s time for to go or to stay
my missed opportunities can’t mend their ways,
I keep drifting across this great blue,
Like driftwood that floats on the sea to the shore
Washed up for children to find and adore
I’m twisted, and knotted, and gnarled to the core,
Still drifting across this great blue.

I Think It’s Going To Be Alright

Winds blowing,
Sky’s flashing,
Thunder cracks,
trees crashing,
creeks flood,
streets mud,
but I think it’s going to be alright,
and I think it’s going to be alright,
yes I think it’s going to be alright,
alright...
Desert burning,
mothers calling,
children learning,
forests falling,
tables turning,
someone’s stalling,
and I can hear a voice there calling,
but I think it’s going to be alright,
and I think it’s going to be alright,
yes I think it’s going to be alright,
alright...

Black and Blue

Pennies tossed like bargain prayers
they laugh out loud, but never share,
some secrets we can never tell,
like words thrown down the wishing well.
Petals pulled and cast aside
fall down like stars whose burning ride
will disappear like worn out shoes;
no cuts, no scrapes, no bruise.
Black and blue, pants and sweater
she walks in and something’s better.
She asks questions, but he hasn’t a clue,
‘cause all he sees is black and blue.
Nothing hurts if nothing shows,
just give and take, and take the blows,
another song for them to sing
and now they can remember Spring,
the clouds are welcome overcast,
remind us all that nothing lasts
forever, except perhaps those
clouds so black and blue.
She doesn’t know he sees windows in her hair,
he’s lost his way and doesn’t know he’s there.
This could be a passing conversation that won’t last,
or this could be a picture they might discover in their past
black and blue, pants and sweater
she walks in and something’s better
she asks questions, but he’s hasn’t a clue
‘cause all he sees is black and blue.

Twenty-One Years

Let’s play twenty-one, and then play strip poker,
You be the dealer, and I’ll be the joker,
Tease me with trump cards, then I’ll play the fool,
I’m just a jack for your wild queen to rule
Been twenty-one years
over laughter and tears,
surprises and fears,
another twenty-one years
He deals us a good hand then our luck tumbles down
we keep cashin’ in, then send for the clowns
we pick up our cards and discard the rest
keep our chips close together and hope for the best
take your clothes off
won’t you be my best freind
let’s forget what we’re doing
making love ain’t a sin
Been twenty-one years
over laughter and tears,
surprises and fears,
another twenty-one years.
Place your bets, ante up, put your best on the line
take your winnings, your losses and put ‘em with mine,
take your troubles and wishes, shoulder up to the wheel,
place ‘em all on that number, twenty-one’s all I feel.

Everything Goes

First go the ears, then the eyes, then the nose.
I got a pain in my knees that goes down to my toes.
My memory’s fast fading and I can’t find my clothes.
Seems one thing stops workin’ then everything goes.
She came with the Springtime she bloomed like a rose;
through Summer to Autumn when the windy wind blows.
She was gone by the winter and I nearly froze.
Sometimes it seems as though everything goes.
Little hands, tiny fingers, no troubles, no woes.
Awaddling and squaddling and itty-bitty bows.
Oh how quick, without warning, a little child grows;
first footsteps come slowly, then everything goes.
There’s an old saying says that he reaps what he sows,
but I’ve been reaping and sowing with no harvest to show.
Where it’s all going, nobody knows;
one thing’s for certain, everything goes.
We work everyday till the week comes to close.
With a fistful of payday we set drinks up in rows.
When our pockets are empty, the merriment slows;
it’s time to start over when everything goes.

Looking For Acorns

Little voices, little words, little sentences too,
here’s a green one, it’s a young one,
here’s an old one like you.
I laughed, but I listened ‘cause children don’t lie,
their eyes tell the truth, they can’t keep it inside.
Little eyes open up, little fingers climb high
try to poke through the smoke rings that dance and float by.
Just like those smoke rings my grandpa once blew,
each smoke ring spins ‘round, every circle rings true.
Why do the simple things
acorns and floatin’ rings
cow jumping moons
all leave too soon
then, when the children go
I think I can still hear...
Little voices, little words, little sentences too,
here’s a green one, it’s a young one,
here’s an old one like you.
I laughed, but I listened ‘cause children don’t lie,
there eyes tell the truth, they can’t keep it inside.
Looking for acorns, looking for acorns,
Zola, Sophia, and me.
Looking for acorns, looking for acorns,
looking for acorns with me.

This Is The Poem

This is the poem I have not written;
this is the poem I’ve never known.
This is the poem that calls on me constantly
home to the wilderness of mistaken roads,
that forest of mute tongues on fire for you;
for you, again I speak without reason;
Again, for you I reason,
speechless words that refuse to lay down.
This is the voice I have not spoken;
this is the voice I ‘ve never known.
This is the voice that listens too often
to reason that wanders through valleys
through shadows below fallen letters,
chosen mishaps, baptised burdens
lifted off of the page;
and nothing’s determined
but free willy-nilly,
and I know you can hear me
when I speak like a clown.
This is the rest I have not written;
this is the rest I’ve never known.
This is the rest that calls me too often
home to the blood-covered poem;
home to the motherland
wet fertile crescent
forest, first language;
This is the word,
desert spring, temple flood
flowing, but not watered down,
drawn from restless stones,
wrestled from the underground.

Landscape

Big mountains stretch
like a woman in your dreams
fog all over her body,
very still, she might be asleep.
Snake in the canyon
one more time.

Time to Let Go

A gift from a boyfriend she’s long since forgotten
The flowers are gone, but there’s still a guitar
He once gave her a promise to show her some chords
And sing a few songs about love though the rest of the
Story is dusty, outside of the memories she carries like lose change
Dumped into a dish on top of her dresser, some nickels and dimes,
Sometimes it’s hard to let go of the good times,
Sometimes it’s hard to let go of the good times,
but sometimes it’s time to let go.
And she can’t quite remember why she carries her memories
Why she buries her future in her very own dreams
Something ‘bout teachers and tattoos and poetry
and a renaissance minstrel tuning up a guitar
And she’s driving the distance waiting for openings
‘cause most conversations must take their own time
And she’s driving to L.A. so she can get away
From all of the loose change that spilled to the floor
Sometimes it’s hard to let go of the good times,
Sometimes it’s hard to let go of the good times,
but sometimes it’s time to let go.
One day she’ll remember the stories and laughter
About all the kids she helped back to Ithaca
With a hatchet, some glues sticks, and a little sabroso,
They fought, but they listened and discovered themselves
Somewhere between being lost in the forest
No fire, no food, just a twenty dollar bill,
Somewhere in between all the books and Debris
she helped old Ulysses get home from the sea.
Sometimes it’s hard to let go of the good times,
but sometimes it’s time to let go.
Sometimes it’s hard to let go of the good times,
but sometimes it’s time to let go.
Circe will tell you, then the mighty Calypso,
sometimes it’s time to let go,
sometimes it’s time to let go.

Broken Lines

The broken lines on the highway west are calling out my name,
crying like they never cried before
and though I’m leaving Heaven far behind me, just the same,
the dreams aren’t broken on the other shore.
I’ll be singing to the stars along the highway,
another fallen wish for better days,
another dream that could be gone tomorrow,
gone tomorrow if I don’t leave today.
The town was nice but won’t suffice for filling up my dreams,
dreams of fortune, someone’s promised land.
I’ll pack up all my sorrows, and leave room for some of yours,
and hit the road across this desert sand.
The open road remembers me, and won’t forget your name,
the road less traveled’s more familiar everyday.
Sometimes your strength’s my weakness, and my weakness is your pain,
we’ll try riding all twists along the way.

You’re There

When heaven spills, rivers fill,
you’re there.
The earth may shake, bridge may break,
you’re there.
Up to the sky, great mountains fly,
then crumble to the sea.
With every blow, I always know
you’re there.
When waters rise, it’s no surprise
you’re there.
When fortunes fall, I lose it all
you’re there.
That final round when I go down
and no one’s by my side
I’m all alone, I’m on my own
you’re there.
You’re there where no one wants to be,
there when they all give up on me.
When I can’t tell wrong from right,
give up the ghost to fight,
all alone, stripped to the bone,
you’re there.

Where Did I Go Wrong?

Won the bet but lost the fight,
didn’t take too long.
Should’a gone left then I would’a done right.
Where did I go wrong?
Voodoo doll looks a lot like me
makes me sing this song.
My arm’s on fire and I can’t quite see,
feels like I don’t belong.
Where did I go wrong?
Rained all night till the floods rose up,
Clouds that spill don’t lie
Saw my reflection on the slick black road,
then the road asked why?
Where did I go wrong?

All Because of You

You look beneath what no one else sees through,
and no one else sees you;
and some folks say that they may know me too,
but no one else is you.
Darkness sometimes breaks without a warning
and from the East a star comes into view,
the moon, on its way to find the morning,
whispers that it’s all because of you.
Some folks die and some just move away
but not because we pray.
Some folks lie, but some would rather stay,
no matter what we say.
The courthouse chimes remember what they toll,
a song reveals a soul.
A rusty screen that no one else will know,
where you and I can go.