Sunday, June 14, 2009

Scrambling to keep up with the joneses - Bluetry #13

I never fit in with them anyway
A misfit, a bad fit perfect sit gimmee some tit, I never had any I just want someone to love is all I need
some nurturing spell my lungs a little tongue hung by a thread keep treading shredding papers there’s no end to trend starters
Call me one anyone someone no relief in sight
You’re right it’s so trite, frightened stay on the side of the good fight, I’m tight
You tried that elevator before - broken down on the ground floor
They keep telling me you’re a loser, I know you’re a poser and a lover not a chooser
I keep writing poetry
My life loves the word, worships the word is my shepherd I shall step lightly trip the light
The word leads me to lush pastures, maintains my poverty, my soul aglow
I want to be cured of the word
Word assuages my misery, my destiny lost and re-found
Refined this new york city landscape triggers my sensitivity
A wilderness of avarice device – my honesty misfired desensitized
I am woman warrior I warned you off the stuff again and again
Each card turns, Mount Everest - show and tell
Let me go home
Take me back to earth solid gold sold lust to trust dust me off cure me of this malady – it’s a fallacy – living in a helix galaxy
I didn’t want to do it … I didn’t want to do it
Thunder strokes the sky lightening cracks open mimicking my life
Reflected in images of why you do me this way
Pray stay a while ‘honey chile’ time’s a wasten' no more haten'
Hat’s off to Danny Kaye not too many know he worked for UNICEF
for three years under a one point five million dollar contract
Fifty years ago – what would that be today?
I’ll get out the calculator
Wow today in 2009, that's one billion ninety one million
Siften' cash through sand papered hands
hard cold cash stayen' in fashion
my heart’s with Danny Kaye
Bought a house sold it a second before foreclosure
Got some tequila to wash down the seizure
Ommmm shanti talliwacker zoom zoom to the moon
I want some poon-tang some boom boom in the poom poom
poetry in the poor house
I’m dancing with Danny Kaye
Moving on up
Lay lady lay lay upon this big brass bed