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I think Alison Krauss and her band are the best today. The same goes for Rick Skaggs and his band.

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We Are The Same...

gas rices up,
fuel prices up,
grocery prices up,
heating prices up...

and the poor man's dollar
is still a dollar!

cant afford sickness,
cant afford hospitals,
cant afford shelter,
cant afford, cant afford.

it's time to band together
in small communities,
and be neighbors again.

we cannot rely on the government,
on churches, on the elite...
we have each other,
and that is all!

forget about differences.
skin color, religion, politics...
let it go.
we are the same!

same needs, same desires,
same prayers, same love...
red blooded, dirty, stinking
human beings...
human beings in need
of each other!

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We Are The Same

I present to you a woman
who wishes she were not
judged by the color of her
skin and the clothes she wears.
Why must I because I’m
different be a target to
your insults and your
ignorance. I am human
like you.
So I talk with a slang and
dance different some of you
dance just like me.
Yeah our skin color is different,
but we are the same.
Like you I want respect
I deserve respect. I do not
want to be stereotyped
because of my Friday nights
outfit. I do not want to be
discriminated against when
I’m working and you see
me wearing pants that show
off my round butt or my top
that show my breast when I
bend over to give you your
dinner.
We are God’s creation and God’s
children once at heaven’s gate
there will be no color because
love, respect, and acceptance
has no color.

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We Are The Same

I present to you a woman
who wishes she were not
judged by the color of her
skin and the clothes she wears.
Why must I because I’m
different be a target to
your insults and your
ignorance. I am human
like you.
So I talk with a slang and
dance different, some of you
dance just like me.
Yeah, our skin color is different,
but we are the same.
Like you I want respect
I deserve respect. I do not
want to be stereotyped
because of my Friday nights
outfit and I do not want to be
discriminated against when
I’m working and you see
me wearing pants that show
off my round butt or my top
that show my breast when I
bend over to give you your
dinner.
We are God’s creation and God’s
children once at heaven’s gate
there will be no color because
love, respect, and acceptance
has no color.

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A Pantoum - You Are The Only One For Me

You are the only one for me,
I wrap my pillow in my arms,
When memories invade my spiritual infinity,
I start remembering those days.

I wrap my pillow in my arms,
Your face was there in moonlight,
I start remembering those days,
When your magnetic eyes were watching me.

Your face was there in moonlight,
Each every single day i lived,
When your magnertic eyes were watching me,
My heart felt safe and rich.

Each every single day i lived,
When memories invade my spiritual infinity,
My heart felt safe and rich,
You are the only one for me.

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We are the all...

Mystical and magical all are the same
Without doubt none singular is to blame?
Except all meaning and question your finds
For all opposites in all climbs, chime?
Truth is a chemist, who doctors all
Simply put we are the immeasurable.
We are the all...
Whatever the size large or small
We are the all...
At transgressions fall...?

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You Are The Only One

I love you,
You're my everything...
You are the only one for me
Well, well, well
And everything that i do
Is for you and me
So never leave
(i can't breathe without you)
Just stay with me
Oh, 112, tell me
You are the only one for me, baby
And everything that i do
Is for you and me
So never leave
Just stay with me
[repeat until fade]

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Who Are the Embarrassed Ones

We had a special spark inside
Liquid fire spurs our souls
A moment of pure passion
Deep under the silver moonlight
We cover all the basis of mush
A whole grouping of love
In every part of ourselves
We seductively brought together
All moments of sexuality
Until it is known we are not alone
And we see the gathering here
Curiosity maybe at our lust
And full passion we did display
Now who are the embarrassed ones
For they don’t tarry when the lights are on

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Candy and Music are the same

As a friend of mine said once music is like candy you have to throw away all the rappers. That friend of mine is right.
Music can make you smile, laugh and sad all at the same time but all the rappers take our music and add there cussing and dirty way then it can no longer be called music cuzz rappers take away the meaning and the emotion so now it is no more then some one yelling out cuss words and ditty things now I ask you please open your candy and throw away the rappers so all that is left is the sweet emotion

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I do not agree with the extremists of either the left or the right, but I think they should be allowed to speak and to publish, both because they themselves have, and ought to have, rights, and once their rights are gone, the rights of the rest of us are hardly safe. Extremists typically want to squash not only those who disagree with them diametrically, but those who disagree with them at all. It seems to me that in every country where extremists of the left have gotten sufficiently in the saddle to squash the extremists of the right, they have ridden on to squash the center or terrorize it also. And the same goes for extremists of the right. I do not want that to happen in our country.

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You Are The Man

Verse 1:
Nobody touches my heart like you do
I swear Im just hopelessly fatal for you
Cause I cant go through a day without
Thinkin bout kissin you places all over
All over your body and you body all over me
Chorus:
You, you are the man I want
There is no other love
You give me what I need
You are the only man for me
Verse 2:
You can see it in my eyes how much Im feelin you
Theres nobody else in this world would do,
I would do
Cause you will, you will go places
That Im not usually tasted
And it just makes me go crazy
And I cant deny Im obsessed over you
Chorus
Cause you
Long time ago stole my heart
You broke me down from the start
And nothin has changed since the 1st day
That we made sweet love
Chorus

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Im so sorry

I'm so sorry
Sorry for making you think all men are the same
Sorry for making you feel naked
Sorry for sharing my dreams with the outside world
I'm so sorry
Sorry for taking late night calls in your presence
Sorry for not making you my number one
Sorry for not saying thank you
I'm so sorry
Sorry for the tears I've made you cry
Sorry for not answering when you called upon my name
Sorry for waking up and not finding me there
Sorry for making you feel unappreciated and unloved
I'm so sorry
Sorry for not saying Happy Birthday
Sorry for being a nightmare in your life
Sorry for making you my punching bag
I'm so sorry
Sorry for making you say sorry when it was not your fault
Sorry for the promises I made but never kept
I'm so sorry

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Love and Pain are the Same | Poetry / Lyrics

Four letters deep, they penetrate
Divided in to equal parts in a human brain
Feeling the same inside a heart
Love and pain

Blinding like the sun heat
Hurting like a sun burn
Bright like the sun shine
Furthest thing from planet earth

Around ball of fire
The hottest thing I’ve ever seen
Love and pain seems to be the same damn thing

You stained my heart with your love
And left a scare on my soul with your name Mr. Pain

It makes no sense, you can’t see the different
Pain is hope, it will pull you threw
Pain’s the thing that proves you
That love exists too

Blinding like the sun heat
Hurting like a sun burn
Bright like the sun shine
Furthest thing from planet earth
Around ball of fire

The hottest thing I’ve ever seen
Love and pain seems to be the same damn thing

Can you feel the love in my pain
I haven’t given up on our sun shine
It just clouded up, and left me in the rain
I’m soaking wet, and waiting for the sun to shine again

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Brighter Are The Days Ahead

Brighter are the days ahead,
For the ones of faith.
Brighter are the days,
Ahead.

Brighter are the days ahead,
For the ones who held on.
Brighter are the days,
Ahead.

With sacrifices made.
And dues that one has paid,
Will find their burden shoulders...
Lightening up.
Suddenly all are gone,
Every trouble suffered long!

Brighter are the days ahead,
For the ones of faith.
Brighter are the days,
Ahead.

Suddenly all are gone,
Every trouble suffered long!

Brighter are the days ahead,
For the ones of faith.
Brighter are the days,
Ahead.

With sacrifices made.
And dues that one has paid,
Will find their burden shoulders...
Lightening up.

Suddenly all are gone,
Every trouble suffered long!

Brighter are the days ahead,
For the ones of faith.
Brighter are the days,
Ahead.

Suddenly all are gone,
Every trouble suffered long!

Brighter are the days ahead,
For the ones of faith.
Brighter are the days,
Ahead.

Brighter are the days ahead,
For the ones of faith.
Brighter are the days,
Ahead.

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Metal Militia

Thunder and lightning the gods take revenge
Senseless destruction
Victems of fury are cowardly now
Running for safety
Stabbing the harlot to pay for her sins
Leaving the virgin
Suicide running as if it were free
Ripping and tearing

On through the mist and the madness
We are trying to get the message to you
Metal Militia
Metal Militia
Metal Militia

Chained and shadowed to be left behind
nine and one thousand
Metal militia for your sacrifice
iron clad soldiers
Join or be conquered the law of the land
What will befall you
The metalization of your inner soul
twisting and turning

On through the mist and the madness
We are trying to get the message to you
Metal Militia
Metal Militia
Metal Militia

We are as one as we all are the same
fighting for one cause
Leather and metal are our uniforms
protecting what we are
Joining together to take on the world
with our heavy metal
Spreading the message to everyone here
Come let yourself go

On through the mist and the madness
We are trying to get the message to you
Metal Militia
Metal Militia
Metal Militia

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We Are The World - Usa For Africa 1985

There comes a time when we need a certain call
When the world must come together as one
There are people dying, oh, and its time to lend a hand to life
The greatest gift of all
We cant go on pretending day by day
That someone, somewhere will soon make a change
Were all a part of gods great big family
And the truth, you know love is all we need
We are the world
We are the children
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So lets start givin
Theres a choice were makin
Were savin our own lives
Its true, well make a better day
Just you and me
Well, send them you your heart so they know that someone cares
And their lives will be stronger and free
As God has shown us by turning stone to bread
And so we all must lend a helping hand
We are the world
We are the children
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So lets start givin
Whoa, theres a choice were makin
Were savin our own lives
Its true, well make a better day
Just you and me
When youre down and out
There seems no hope at all
But if you just believe
Theres no way we can fall
Well, well, well, let us realize
Oh, that one change can only come
When we stand together as one
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
We are the world
We are the children
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So lets start givin
Theres a choice were makin
Were savin our own lives
Its true, well make a better day
Just you and me
We are the world
We are the children
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So lets start givin
Theres a choice were makin
Were saving our own lives
Its true, well make a better day
Just you and me
We are the world (we are the world)
We are the children (we are the children)
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So lets start givin (so lets start giving)
Theres a choice were making
Were saving our own lives
Its true, well make a better day
Just you and me (all right, let me hear you)
We are the world (we are the world)
We are the children (said we are the children)
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So lets start givin (lets start givin)
Theres a choice were makin
Were saving our own lives
Its true, well make a better day
Just you and me, come on now let me hear you
We are the world (we are the world)
We are the children (we are the children)
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So lets start giving (so lets start givin)
Theres a choice were making
Were savin our own lives
Its true, well make a better day
Just you and me, yeah, yeah
We are the world (we are the world)
We are the children (we are the children)
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So lets start giving (so lets start givin)
Theres a choice were makin
Were savin our own lives
Its true, well make a better day
Just you and me
We are the world (we are the world)
We are the children (we are the children)
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So lets start givin (so lets start giving)
Theres a choice were makin
Were savin our own lives
Its true, well make a better day
Just you and me
We are the world (we are the world)
We are the children (we are the children)
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So lets start givin

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Walt Whitman

Great Are The Myths

GREAT are the myths--I too delight in them;
Great are Adam and Eve--I too look back and accept them;
Great the risen and fallen nations, and their poets, women, sages,
inventors, rulers, warriors, and priests.
Great is Liberty! great is Equality! I am their follower;
Helmsmen of nations, choose your craft! where you sail, I sail,
I weather it out with you, or sink with you.

Great is Youth--equally great is Old Age--great are the Day and
Night;
Great is Wealth--great is Poverty--great is Expression--great is
Silence.

Youth, large, lusty, loving--Youth, full of grace, force,
fascination!
Do you know that Old Age may come after you, with equal grace, force,
fascination? 10

Day, full-blown and splendid--Day of the immense sun, action,
ambition, laughter,
The Night follows close, with millions of suns, and sleep, and
restoring darkness.

Wealth, with the flush hand, fine clothes, hospitality;
But then the Soul's wealth, which is candor, knowledge, pride,
enfolding love;
(Who goes for men and women showing Poverty richer than wealth?)

Expression of speech! in what is written or said, forget not that
Silence is also expressive,
That anguish as hot as the hottest, and contempt as cold as the
coldest, may be without words.


Great is the Earth, and the way it became what it is;
Do you imagine it has stopt at this? the increase abandon'd?
Understand then that it goes as far onward from this, as this is from
the times when it lay in covering waters and gases, before man
had appear'd. 20

Great is the quality of Truth in man;
The quality of truth in man supports itself through all changes,
It is inevitably in the man--he and it are in love, and never leave
each other.

The truth in man is no dictum, it is vital as eyesight;
If there be any Soul, there is truth--if there be man or woman there
is truth--if there be physical or moral, there is truth;
If there be equilibrium or volition, there is truth--if there be
things at all upon the earth, there is truth.

O truth of the earth! I am determin'd to press my way toward you;
Sound your voice! I scale mountains, or dive in the sea after you.


Great is Language--it is the mightiest of the sciences,
It is the fulness, color, form, diversity of the earth, and of men
and women, and of all qualities and processes; 30
It is greater than wealth--it is greater than buildings, ships,
religions, paintings, music.

Great is the English speech--what speech is so great as the English?
Great is the English brood--what brood has so vast a destiny as the
English?
It is the mother of the brood that must rule the earth with the new
rule;
The new rule shall rule as the Soul rules, and as the love, justice,
equality in the Soul rule.

Great is Law--great are the few old land-marks of the law,
They are the same in all times, and shall not be disturb'd.


Great is Justice!
Justice is not settled by legislators and laws--it is in the Soul;
It cannot be varied by statutes, any more than love, pride, the
attraction of gravity, can; 40
It is immutable--it does not depend on majorities--majorities or what
not, come at last before the same passionless and exact
tribunal.

For justice are the grand natural lawyers, and perfect judges--is it
in their Souls;
It is well assorted--they have not studied for nothing--the great
includes the less;
They rule on the highest grounds--they oversee all eras, states,
administrations.

The perfect judge fears nothing--he could go front to front before
God;
Before the perfect judge all shall stand back--life and death shall
stand back--heaven and hell shall stand back.


Great is Life, real and mystical, wherever and whoever;
Great is Death--sure as life holds all parts together, Death holds
all parts together.

Has Life much purport?--Ah, Death has the greatest purport.

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Strongest Men are the Most Lonely

Apart from all men,
That have taken the world
Of genders, ambivalent or certain
Might have blunted themselves
Like stones on the shore

And in all their hearts,
Cancel the robust, omit the womanizers
Isolate the drunkards, and ostracize the blissful
One would remain, and straight with candor,
I will tell you this: he is the strongest.

Robust men, who pilfer the weak
And the womanizers with a blarney so obsolete
That it has overstated what stain these men hold
In their souls, that is why they fail to enrapture women
I too, have failed to enthrall, with or without love.

For the air is as scintillating,
As for the air that women share with men,
And that, as we ostracize the ebullient,
And talk about their tedious work during supper
We would be pondering over the unnoticed:

Where are all the lonely men?
You wouldn’t know, and you wouldn’t be sure
Because their tears are the most pure,
They ensconce pain because they’d rather see you there
In bejeweled beds, or waterbeds, making love with a drunkard

I shall quote Ibsen, like Bukowski did
For the quote justifies and vindicates the deed
The strongest men are the most lonely.” You dare talk to me about somber
The somber felt in the loss of one’s reputation, without love
Then I shall tell you a story, where I have lost love before it took off.

In a thousand hazy nights, I do not drink with people
Stupid people, sullying with the same kinds of men and women
Who know nothing about pain, or what mystery lies
Behind the strongest men, for society has dictated
That a broken man is either confused with gender, or not that sharp with women.

I will tell you why I am not sharp with women,
And I shall tell you about my prayers
With my hands folded in the soliloquy of nostalgia and sallow nights
As my pallid lips utter words, words of the strongest men,
We do not pray for merriment, we pray for torture

Because men are forged with experience,
And not with cheap thrills of sex, alcohol, lust and indolence
If you do so, then you are not forged,
You are a child, in a playground, wan and wild
But devoid of all learning

Do if you must, conquer if you shall,
I tell you, I have been there, but not with lust and indolence and sex
But with alcohol perhaps, because a lonely man deserves a drink
From a goblet, in a narrowing room, and in a world that shrinks
Right before his feet, feet of stone.

So again, do not be envious
I am lonely, perhaps then, I am strong
Or maybe, I am wrong
Because with love, or without love
In the eyes of one woman, I am in distraught

The strongest man gets to be laughed at,
Jeered at, with stabbing convictions tousled in some bed
Not of cotton, but of sand, quicksand maybe, buried underneath it
No rescue has arrived, it is okay, for he is chivalric
Perhaps a gin tonic would do, if the circumstance permits.

I tell you again, I drink until I die,
Or at least, until the birth of the dawn,
But I never forget to kneel on both knees to pray,
Never did I avoid my pains, trust me, I cry at night
And cringe with the pain that I feel, perhaps, I will not be all right.

I am staunch in my beliefs,
That when one suffers here, animate, then he must be
Entitled to some kingdom far off, when time tells him so
Because the strongest men do not have place here on Earth,
They will never be approved by the mirth of the Gods.

I do not know if I am strong, let’s say,
A woman has left me; I will weep, and yes a woman has left me departed
In the morose dusk, I would feel unwanted,
As I unravel and unsheathe my scrawny shin,
I weep like a river, with my tears trickling down my chest

I would not advise you to give everything,
Because if love is a gamble, then it must be hinged
Or manipulated, fabricated or done with hearts on halves
Yet, I still did, wagered everything, gambled my whole life
As if to say, that in the conclusion, I will have my wife

Yet, my voyage is devoid and null
Look at me, I am categorized among the strongest men
Though not strong, for society has dictated again: “A man does not cry.”
Did you even ask why?
Maybe not, for men are scared of the truth.

In the littlest gist of allegories,
In poetry, prose, novels and short stories,
I have encountered men, who are the same as I am,
In times I long to live in a book, in the lines of a narrative
So all of you could see what lies behind this face

And so apart from all men,
The strongest are the loneliest
And so when the abandonment sets loose in a tempest
You will watch them weep, with or without love
But never did they flee. They never did.

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Hurry Up Please It's Time

What is death, I ask.
What is life, you ask.
I give them both my buttocks,
my two wheels rolling off toward Nirvana.
They are neat as a wallet,
opening and closing on their coins,
the quarters, the nickels,
straight into the crapper.
Why shouldn't I pull down my pants
and moon the executioner
as well as paste raisins on my breasts?
Why shouldn't I pull down my pants
and show my little cunny to Tom
and Albert? They wee-wee funny.
I wee-wee like a squaw.
I have ink but no pen, still
I dream that I can piss in God's eye.
I dream I'm a boy with a zipper.
It's so practical, la de dah.
The trouble with being a woman, Skeezix,
is being a little girl in the first place.
Not all the books of the world will change that.
I have swallowed an orange, being woman.
You have swallowed a ruler, being man.
Yet waiting to die we are the same thing.
Jehovah pleasures himself with his axe
before we are both overthrown.
Skeezix, you are me. La de dah.
You grow a beard but our drool is identical.

Forgive us, Father, for we know not.

Today is November 14th, 1972.
I live in Weston, Mass., Middlesex County,
U.S.A., and it rains steadily
in the pond like white puppy eyes.
The pond is waiting for its skin.
the pond is waiting for its leather.
The pond is waiting for December and its Novocain.

It begins:

Interrogator:
What can you say of your last seven days?

Anne:
They were tired.

Interrogator:
One day is enough to perfect a man.

Anne:
I watered and fed the plant.

*

My undertaker waits for me.
he is probably twenty-three now,
learning his trade.
He'll stitch up the gren,
he'll fasten the bones down
lest they fly away.
I am flying today.
I am not tired today.
I am a motor.
I am cramming in the sugar.
I am running up the hallways.
I am squeezing out the milk.
I am dissecting the dictionary.
I am God, la de dah.
Peanut butter is the American food.
We all eat it, being patriotic.

Ms. Dog is out fighting the dollars,
rolling in a field of bucks.
You've got it made if you take the wafer,
take some wine,
take some bucks,
the green papery song of the office.
What a jello she could make with it,
the fives, the tens, the twenties,
all in a goo to feed the baby.
Andrew Jackson as an hors d'oeuvre,
la de dah.
I wish I were the U.S. Mint,
turning it all out,
turtle green
and monk black.
Who's that at the podium
in black and white,
blurting into the mike?
Ms. Dog.
Is she spilling her guts?
You bet.
Otherwise they cough…
The day is slipping away, why am I
out here, what do they want?
I am sorrowful in November…
(no they don't want that,
they want bee stings).
Toot, toot, tootsy don't cry.
Toot, toot, tootsy good-bye.
If you don't get a letter then
you'll know I'm in jail…
Remember that, Skeezix,
our first song?

Who's thinking those things?
Ms. Dog! She's out fighting the dollars.
Milk is the American drink.
Oh queens of sorrows,
oh water lady,
place me in your cup
and pull over the clouds
so no one can see.
She don't want no dollars.
She done want a mama.
The white of the white.

Anne says:
This is the rainy season.
I am sorrowful in November.
The kettle is whistling.
I must butter the toast.
And give it jam too.
My kitchen is a heart.
I must feed it oxygen once in a while
and mother the mother.

*

Say the woman is forty-four.
Say she is five seven-and-a-half.
Say her hair is stick color.
Say her eyes are chameleon.
Would you put her in a sack and bury her,
suck her down into the dumb dirt?
Some would.
If not, time will.
Ms. Dog, how much time you got left?
Ms. Dog, when you gonna feel that cold nose?
You better get straight with the Maker
cuz it's coming, it's a coming!
The cup of coffee is growing and growing
and they're gonna stick your little doll's head
into it and your lungs a gonna get paid
and your clothes a gonna melt.
Hear that, Ms. Dog!
You of the songs,
you of the classroom,
you of the pocketa-pocketa,
you hungry mother,
you spleen baby!
Them angels gonna be cut down like wheat.
Them songs gonna be sliced with a razor.
Them kitchens gonna get a boulder in the belly.
Them phones gonna be torn out at the root.
There's power in the Lord, baby,
and he's gonna turn off the moon.
He's gonna nail you up in a closet
and there'll be no more Atlantic,
no more dreams, no more seeds.
One noon as you walk out to the mailbox
He'll snatch you up -
a wopman beside the road like a red mitten.

There's a sack over my head.
I can't see. I'm blind.
The sea collapses.
The sun is a bone.
Hi-ho the derry-o,
we all fall down.
If I were a fisherman I could comprehend.
They fish right through the door
and pull eyes from the fire.
They rock upon the daybreak
and amputate the waters.
They are beating the sea,
they are hurting it,
delving down into the inscrutable salt.

*

When mother left the room
and left me in the big black
and sent away my kitty
to be fried in the camps
and took away my blanket
to wash the me out of it
I lay in the soiled cold and prayed.
It was a little jail in which
I was never slapped with kisses.
I was the engine that couldn't.
Cold wigs blew on the trees outside
and car lights flew like roosters
on the ceiling.
Cradle, you are a grave place.

Interrogator:
What color is the devil?

Anne:
Black and blue.

Interrogator:
What goes up the chimney?

Anne:
Fat Lazarus in his red suit.

Forgive us, Father, for we know not.

Ms. Dog prefers to sunbathe nude.
Let the indifferent sky look on.
So what!
Let Mrs. Sewal pull the curtain back,
from her second story.
So what!
Let United Parcel Service see my parcel.
La de dah.
Sun, you hammer of yellow,
you hat on fire,
you honeysuckle mama,
pour your blonde on me!
Let me laugh for an entire hour
at your supreme being, your Cadillac stuff,
because I've come a long way
from Brussels sprouts.
I've come a long way to peel off my clothes
and lay me down in the grass.
Once only my palms showed.
Once I hung around in my woolly tank suit,
drying my hair in those little meatball curls.
Now I am clothed in gold air with
one dozen halos glistening on my skin.
I am a fortunate lady.
I've gotten out of my pouch
and my teeth are glad
and my heart, that witness,
beats well at the thought.

Oh body, be glad.
You are good goods.

*

Middle-class lady,
you make me smile.
You dig a hole
and come out with a sunburn.
If someone hands you a glass of water
you start constructing a sailboat.
If someone hands you a candy wrapper,
you take it to the book binder.
Pocketa-pocketa.

Once upon a time Ms. Dog was sixty-six.
She had white hair and wrinkles deep as splinters.
her portrait was nailed up like Christ
and she said of it:
That's when I was forty-two,
down in Rockport with a hat on for the sun,
and Barbara drew a line drawing.
We were, at that moment, drinking vodka
and ginger beer and there was a chill in the air,
although it was July, and she gave me her sweater
to bundle up in. The next summer Skeezix tied
strings in that hat when we were fishing in Maine.
(It had gone into the lake twice.)
Of such moments is happiness made.

Forgive us, Father, for we know not.

Once upon a time we were all born,
popped out like jelly rolls
forgetting our fishdom,
the pleasuring seas,
the country of comfort,
spanked into the oxygens of death,
Good morning life, we say when we wake,
hail mary coffee toast
and we Americans take juice,
a liquid sun going down.
Good morning life.
To wake up is to be born.
To brush your teeth is to be alive.
To make a bowel movement is also desireable.
La de dah,
it's all routine.
Often there are wars
yet the shops keep open
and sausages are still fried.
People rub someone.
People copulate
entering each other's blood,
tying each other's tendons in knots,
transplanting their lives into the bed.
It doesn't matter if there are wars,
the business of life continues
unless you're the one that gets it.
Mama, they say, as their intestines
leak out. Even without wars
life is dangerous.
Boats spring leaks.
Cigarettes explode.
The snow could be radioactive.
Cancer could ooze out of the radio.
Who knows?
Ms. Dog stands on the shore
and the sea keeps rocking in
and she wants to talk to God.

Interrogator:
Why talk to God?

Anne:
It's better than playing bridge.

*

Learning to talk is a complex business.
My daughter's first word was utta,
meaning button.
Before there are words
do you dream?
In utero
do you dream?
Who taught you to suck?
And how come?
You don't need to be taught to cry.
The soul presses a button.
Is the cry saying something?
Does it mean help?
Or hello?
The cry of a gull is beautiful
and the cry of a crow is ugly
but what I want to know
is whether they mean the same thing.
Somewhere a man sits with indigestion
and he doesn't care.
A woman is buying bracelets
and earrings and she doesn't care.
La de dah.

Forgive us, Father, for we know not.

There are stars and faces.
There is ketchup and guitars.
There is the hand of a small child
when you're crossing the street.
There is the old man's last words:
More light! More light!
Ms. Dog wouldn't give them her buttocks.
She wouldn't moon at them.
Just at the killers of the dream.
The bus boys of the soul.
Or at death
who wants to make her a mummy.
And you too!
Wants to stuf her in a cold shoe
and then amputate the foot.
And you too!
La de dah.
What's the point of fighting the dollars
when all you need is a warm bed?
When the dog barks you let him in.
All we need is someone to let us in.
And one other thing:
to consider the lilies in the field.
Of course earth is a stranger, we pull at its
arms and still it won't speak.
The sea is worse.
It comes in, falling to its knees
but we can't translate the language.
It is only known that they are here to worship,
to worship the terror of the rain,
the mud and all its people,
the body itself,
working like a city,
the night and its slow blood
the autumn sky, mary blue.
but more than that,
to worship the question itself,
though the buildings burn
and the big people topple over in a faint.
Bring a flashlight, Ms. Dog,
and look in every corner of the brain
and ask and ask and ask
until the kingdom,
however queer,
will come.

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Just One Of Those days

I'm so tired I dunno why..
I feel like I been working like a dog.
It's funny cus I haven't done
anything the whole day,
but sit lazily on this chair.
Its the weather, there's so much pressure
Its draggin me around
I really hate it.
September and April are the worst months of the year
transition months
I wish i could sleep those two months,
you know, writing a notice that goes like,
'wake me up when October comes' and
sleep all the way through September.
The same goes for April, but change the October to May.
The internet connection is awfully lazy today.
Maybe it is the weather again.
It's not worth downloading anything during the day
Funny how the weather is ruining everything.
I feel like doing something else
besides sitting on the computer
and writing this.
The weather is again to blame.

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The Last Lovely Rose Of The Fall

Her pink petals lay on the short grass beside the red brick garden wall
By the thorny mother that bore her the last lovely rose of the Fall
White butterflies flit in the garden in the warm sunshine of mid day
And the shrike thrush he pipes on a low branch in his cloak of light brown to gray,
The rose tree has lost her last and her finest daughter next year new roses she will bear
And the rose tree in her flowers does look lovely than her there is none quite so fair
And her flowers they must return to Nature and on Nature's bosom decay
And the rose tree herself sooner or later must return to Nature one day,
The dark willy wagtail he sits on the brick wall his long black tail he wags to and fro
For him 'tis a very good Season on butterlies fat he does grow
Each life form serves a purpose in Nature for one to live one has to die
And what comes from Nature goes back to Nature and the same goes for you and for i
The pink rose petals lay on the grass by their mother on this warm March day in the Fall
And of all of the flowers in the garden in bloom she was the fairest of all.

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