A Hurt Lover’s Lonesome Night

 A Hurt Lover’s Lonesome Night

 

Late night hush

Silence transcends to heavenly stars

Eternal lights never knowing sleep

Countless secrets they keep

No horoscope, no divination could give insight

And Allmighty God chose not to speak that night

Just like yesterday

Or the day before

And before and before and before

But one day, some day, we hope for more

 

Ten thousand agonies of a heart broken

Emotions overflowing yet nothing spoken

Except for the screaming of her misty tears

And the sounds of creations that have been echoing for years

It is not that there is no voice

It is that we refuse to hear

And that is by choice

 

Who has not known woe?

Or felt the bitter pain?

That nobody could know

Let alone explain

 

And so she remains in her solitude

Cept for the infinite stars above

And thus we conclude

Keeping in tact the mystery known as Love

POLISHED FRAGMENTS

Poet To The Poor

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Chancellor Avenue

Chancellor Avenue

 

The stars don't frequent

Chancellor Avenue

But on the odd chance

That they do

It won't be cause

They are flaunting the laws

And counting the cost

No they would be

Simply

Lost

 

In the White House

They have celebrities galore

Every day on the plate

They got some more

Phony and fake

As the politician's smiling promise

 

So why the great divide?

We're all equal

Huh

When they need cannon fodder

Brave patriots

To kill and die

They'll flood Chancellor Avenue

With an impeccable lie

 

But let me get you some related news

About Chancellor Avenue

You can get the best of the best

To be your honorary guest

No matter who

We'll out do you in the blues

It's true

On Chancellor Avenue

  

POLISHED FRAGMENTS

Poet To The Poor

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They Must Be Friends Of Yours

They Must Be Friends Of Yours

 

Slept late Friday morning sky was lazy gray

Tried to write a song but had nothing to say

My mistress Muse refused to give me rest

I just wanted to say I love you the best

 

They must be friends of yours my lonely one

They must be friends of yours cause I got none

For once in my life I want to have some fun

They must be friends of yours my lonely one

 

Echoes of dreams scrolling the computer screen

The moment steams on the edge of obscene

Right and wrong are more than words in a song

Though you may be powerful you’re not strong

 

They must be friends of yours my lonely one

They must be friends of yours cause I got none

For once in my life I want to have some fun

They must be friends of yours my lonely one

 

Wicked gnomes were laughing late into the night

Bullies bully until you get into a fistfight

God I got a list of things that just ain’t right

Life is beautiful when you walk in the light

 

They must be friends of yours my lonely one

They must be friends of yours cause I got none

For once in my life I want to have some fun

They must be friends of yours my lonely one

 

And here we are pounding the concrete of a lonely street

Searching up and down for something to make us complete

I must report life is short there’s hell below heaven above

The meaning of life is simple it’s all in the word love

 

The scientists insist on evolution

The realists persist in revolution

Bottom line there’s one solution

We gotta recreate the institution

 

They must be friends of yours my lonely one

They must be friends of yours cause I got none

For once in my life I want to have some fun

They must be friends of yours my lonely one  

GREAT BOOK OF SONG LYRICS

The Big Book Of Song Lyrics, Check It Out!!

Chaos That Is Life

Chaos That Is Life 

 

A trillion quadrillion quantum infinitely pure

Respect the Googleplex

Bow down genuflect

Dancing quarks superbly agitated

What was will be once more

And thus, the universe created

In the absolute anarchy

Somehow one and one became three

And what we know as reality

Came to be

Physics fails

Randomness prevails

Go fill your sail

With the soft winds of a gale

Search for Atlantis

Search for the land of the free

It matters not as long as you are with me

So, slip on my lips a gentle kiss

Together husband and wife

In this chaos that is life

Falling off the edge of the Earth

To the realm where the gods were given birth 

POLISHED FRAGMENTS

Poet To The Poor

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Death Machine

Death Machine

 

It’s life on the funny farm

Safe away from life’s harm

Tell me what can you do

When the world’s crazy like you

The whole world is insane

It really racks my brain

 

Death Machine

Keep that motor clean

Got that nuclear power

To end it in an hour

 

Tell me Mr. Preacher

Predict the future

Are we lost

To nuclear holocaust

What about Jesus

Won’t he save us

Before I go

I need to know

 

Death Machine

Keep that motor clean

Got that nuclear power

To end it in an hour

 

They’re destroying the Amazon

Soon it’ll be gone

Just another memory

Like the Navaho and Apache

Man sings like the rains

With each drop he complains

When will man see

To let things just be

 

Death Machine

Keep that motor clean

Got that nuclear power

To end it in an hour

 

It’s life on the funny farm

Safe away from life’s harm

Tell me what can you do

When the world’s crazy like you

The whole world is insane

It really racks my brain

 

Death Machine

Keep that motor clean

Got that nuclear power

To end it in an hour

 

Tell me Mr. Preacher

Predict the future

Are we lost

To nuclear holocaust

What about Jesus

Won’t he save us

Before I go

I need to know

 

Death Machine

Keep that motor clean

Got that nuclear power

To end it in an hour

 

They’re destroying the Amazon

Soon it’ll be gone

Just another memory

Like the Navaho and Apache

Man sings like the rains

With each drop he complains

When will man see

To let things just be

 

Death Machine

Keep that motor clean

Got that nuclear power

To end it in an hour 

GREAT BOOK OF SONG LYRICS

The Big Book Of Song Lyrics, Check It Out!!

Gravy Train

 Gravy Train

 

                                                                           By Richard Wolffe and John Kaniecki

                                                  Copyright 2007

 

 

Chorus

Wooohoooooooo Wooohooooooo

Here comes the gravy train.

Racking your brain driving you insane,

Here comes the gravy train.

Wooohoooooooo Wooohooooooo

 

Coming down the tracks, full in all its racks

Here comes the Gravy Train.

Man I know I’m sane

And life ain’t in vain.

Here comes the gravy train.

Wooohoooooooo Wooohooooooo

 

I’ve got me that hunger

And I’m not getting any younger.

It’s just another day

And life will be okay

Let me explain.

Here comes the gravy train.

Wooohoooooooo Wooohooooooo

 

Chorus

Wooohoooooooo Wooohooooooo

Here comes the gravy train.

Racking your brain driving you insane,

Here comes the gravy train.

Wooohoooooooo Wooohooooooo

 

Its evening time, five-oh five

I’m happy to just be alive.

Where is that coming foretold?

My bones ache and I’m not old!

It’s five o’ five in the evening,

And I’m still believing.

I’m still believing,

Still believing,

Believing.

Here comes the gravy train.

Wooo Ooooh!

Check out my book of song lyrics "Without The Music"

The Masters at Church

 The Masters at Church

Fred Masters hurriedly signed the blue check his pen darting frantically. In anticipation his head turned toward the soon to arrive collection plate. The shiny golden plate was being passed hand to hand by the congregants. The contorting of his body caused pain in the lower back of Fred Master as the pew was hard and unforgiving. His hands ripped out the blue paper along the perforated edges. In one fluid motion the man folded the check in two concealing the writing.

The metal plate approached closer as the organ sounded out a sixteenth century dirge. Nobody sang along though the priest had directed the congregation to the proper page where the lyrics had been translated from the dead language of Latin. Eagerly the Masters’ hand was about to deposit the check when another hand darted out restraining his. Fred was familiar with the touch; it was his wife’s hand.

The Masters’ eyes met his lady’s as she gave him a quizzical look. The woman’s hand squeezed her husbands at first soft but then the grip turned painful. The Master was familiar with the dreadful ritual and relented handing the blue check to his lady. She in turn opened the paper to examine the contents of the offering. The grotesque look on her face revealed all that was on her mind, but to make no doubt in the matter she harshly spoke, “We can do better than we are!”

Fred Masters’ hand retrieved the check and tossed it into the plate and then past the plate on. He would have hell to pay later of that he was certain. Meanwhile the lady in the presence of the church restrained her true feelings. After all there were rules to be followed in this so called house of god and speaking one’s mind was forbidden. 

Both Fred and his lady were aggravated. The lady was upset that her husband would put such little money in the offering plate; after all God had been good to them, the Masters were blessed abundantly. They had two houses a regular one and a vacation house at the shore. Then there was the Mercedes, the Porsche and the Ford Explorer. They needed something to pack all their stuff in when they went to the summer home. Heaven forbid they had to be cramped up in their Porsche. Then there was all her fines clothes and jewelry.  ‘Why they had everything that life could offer,’ thought the lady as she sighed verbally, ‘except happiness.’ But joy was God’s work, God would bring that joy. And that more than anything else is why her husband’s twenty dollar check was just not good enough to please the Lord. Why it should at least have been forty dollars!

Fred Masters hated giving money to the priests. Why he had seen those sons of bitches several times at the liquor store. Weren’t they satisfied with the sacrificial wine? Of course on such occasions these ‘men of god’ did not wear their funk outfits and ceremonial robes. No they just looked like ordinary people. The Masters’ mind raced on, ‘those sons of bitches just work one day a week’. He bitterly recalled his parents’ deaths. Fifty years straight the elder Masters gave sacrificially to the church. They were present every Sunday and holy day. And in thanks of a life of loyal dedication Fred Master was handed a sizable bill for the funeral.

So in the house of god, Fred Masters sat next to his wife in silence with a hurting back against a hard and unforgiving pew. Fred noticed that a few people were making their way out of the church and Fred longed to be one of them. But he dare not tempt his wife with that notion of freedom considering her state of mind.

They priest got up to do his thing. He started of about talking about Jesus’ command of Loving one’s neighbor. The priest then went on to explain how the troops in Afghanistan and Iraq were doing just that, loving one’s neighbor. Fred couldn’t follow the logic behind the reasoning, how soldiers, killing people and blowing things up were loving one’s neighbor. But Fred never expected to church to make sense any way. The priest contended that the troops were defending the country’s freedom so that they could have all the nice things that they had. The conclusion of the matter was that we should be grateful to our troops making the supreme sacrifice and the priest led a moving prayer for their safety and success. Then without missing a beat the priest went on to advertise bingo night and a special collection that was going to be held for something. Fred didn’t know what that something was except that it was made clear that is was absolutely necessary and very costly, so the congregation should be prepared to ‘fork up the money’.

While the priest carried on in his antics Fred peered upwards and marveled at the beautiful architecture. In particular how the ceiling arched being supported with massive beams. Then taking his eyes down from the heavens he gaze upon the stain glass windows which glimmered in the sun’s light. Down to Earth he looked over the gold that lined the church. He viewed the statues of saints that people bowed before to make prayers. Fred had a thought, ‘Whoever created this religious business was one shrewd man!’

After saying the final amen for the closing blessing the priests walked out. A young acolyte swung a golden censer which spelled a poignant fragrance into the air. ‘Hope they ain’t molesting that boy!’ thought Fred in his first genuine prayer of the day. Then the masses fled the church, everyone trying to leave as quickly as possible. The Master noted it was the first time the people were smiling during the whole service.

Fred and his wife were doing their best to leave so they could do something useful with the rest of their day. As they shuffled toward the exit the crowd was delayed by the priest who was attempting to shake hands with the faithful. He was calling everybody ‘my son’ or ‘my daughter’. Fred noted that the priest was not related to anybody and most likely didn’t know but a few of the names of the people in the flock. Fred made haste trying to avoid the unpleasant interaction. For some reason the priest extended his hand towards the Master. Repulsed Fred could do nothing but restrain the truth and he shook the hand of the man dressed in black. ‘God bless you my son’ spoke the priest repeating his favorite mantra. Fred noted he was a good ten years older then the priest.

Fred Master gingerly strolled from the church with his wife as they were heading towards where their Mercedes Benz was parked. Fred looked fine and dashing in his handsome blue suit which its jacket had sleeves short enough to show off his Rolex. His companion in turn was looking mighty fine as well. Her hair elegantly made up and make up was applied transforming her looks to a woman ten years younger. Her gold earrings and pearl necklace made a fine combination with her fur coat. The couple turned the corner.

There beside the wall their eyes fell upon a wretch of a man. His tattered green army jacket was not a fashion statement but an authentic one. The obvious fact that the man’s right arm was missing could not be avoided nor missed. The man was slumped against the wall beside him lay a hat with a few scarce coins laying in it. The soldier stuttering in the cold called out the words “spare change, spare change” as he shook spasmodically.

The lady clung closer to the Master. The pair quickly hastened their steps to flee as quickly as possible from the wretch lying on the side walked. A comment was made, “There’s no helping some people!”

Story Of The Scarecrow

Jupitar

Jupitar

To EXPERIENCE Jupitar

I promised you our first stop would be Jupitar.

Jupitar

I want to go to Jupitar

Jupitar

Do you think there’s war

On Jupitar, Jupitar

We could have a cosmic cruise

If we loose we loose

I want to go to Jupitar

Jupitar

Way up on a star

That’s where the good ones are

On Jupitar, Jupitar

Captain John and his merry band

Would sure like to lend a hand

On Jupitar

You can be a star

Dance up on the bar

We all know where we are

It’s Jupitar

Touch down landing

Are you understanding

We’re in heaven high

On Jupitar in the sky

If you search you’ll find

Jupitar is a state of mind

Let’s all go to Jupitar

Jupitar

Ain’t no hardship or war

On Jupitar, Jupitar

Let’s take that cosmic cruise

Ain’t no way we can loose 

"From Chaos To Cosmos"

Murmurings Of A Mad Man

 How can one describe mental illness?

There are of course the complex psychiatric definitions. But what do these cold hard diagnosis tell you about the heart? Or the feelings one has? Or the spiritual trauma? Murmurings of a Mad Man is a book of poetry written by myself. It deals with my time spent inside of Graystone Psychiatric Hospital. I am a sufferer of bipolar disorder.

I don't think the poetry is what anyone would expect from a psychiatric patient. It is written in strict rhyme with strict rhythm. Here's a sample.

Abandoned in Dorm Sixty Two

Beauty is a pleasing thing to the eye

For a lovely women men kill and die

Charm is a warmth eternal for all days

Conquering hearts as they lift subdued praise

But those things are a wave on the ocean

Life’s greatest treasure is plain devotion

As I sit in dorm number sixty two

Insane thoughts tornado right unto you

Not a lover, nor brother, nor friend

I am just something you liked to pretend

An uncomfortable being ignored

Seen with scorn, in contempt I am deplored

Not a visit, a call, nor a note

“I am the least of these” to give a quote

Abandoned ship when it hit disaster

Seeing a leper you ran the faster

Oh if you but knew our dear sweet Master

For Love is something worthy to die for

To give everything and then give some more

I needed just a hand to hold in hell

I believe you understand it now well

Fly away, to another discover

I desire you not as friend or lover

I am the summation of all holy

For even the greatest begun lowly

But do not pout nor have a frown on face

There’s always grace

Murmurings of a Mad Man come hear it

God is a lunatic and a Spirit

Dorm sixty two was the dormitory that I was in. Graystone State Psychiatric Hospital is a place where only committed patients are held. Those that were deemed as a threat to others or to themselves. It's most famous resident was Woody Guthrie.

In the book I use three figures to represent my ego, superego and id. These being Joe Hill, Woody Guthrie and Crazy Horse. One thing about mental illness is that it takes away your pride. Any semblance of arrogance vanishes. It is in this low state that one feels a connection with the common man. That one learns compassion for the oppressed and down trodden.

Murmurings of a Mad Man is definitely a statement about life. It looks at the world from a unique perspective; one that many are unaware exists. I ask you to take a moment and use the eyes that have been thrust upon me. It will lead to greater understanding of the world around you and even yourself.

Sylvia

My love she lies beside me sleeping our dream

My breath is hushed as my pen dictates scream

She is the angel that makes life easy

She is the devil that knows how to please me

Lover, Friend, Doctor, Nurse, Mother and Wife

The steadfast anchor the Love of my life

How many angry words have you forgave?

How many times my life came to save?

I do not have any greater desire

Then to kiss your lips and embrace your fire

You are fantasy a lady and more

In agony the woman I adore

When the well is empty from you I drink

When my mind is barren your thoughts I think

You are my black rose delicately tough

I ask for more I’ll never have enough

I pray your inner hopes of righteousness

Will awaken you with fulfillment’s soft kiss

I am the sage you humble to a fool

I am a god your life I cannot rule

Sleep dear child as I chase futility

You will never know what you mean to me

Murmurings Of A Mad Man