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T.S. Eliot

Humor is also a way of saying something serious.

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No Good Way Of Saying Good-bye

The truth is too painful
This moment too real
Saying good-bye
But loving you still
Too late to start over
Weve tried that before
And I just dont have it in me
To try anymore
Chorus:
But I know Ill miss you
And I know Ill cry
I know you loved me
And I know youve tried
Its the hardest thing
Ill ever do in my life
But I know no good way
Of saying good-bye
2nd chorus:
I know Ill miss you
And I know Ill cry
I know you loved me
And I know Ill ask why
I know Ill have moments
When Ill want to die
But I know no good way
Of saying good-bye
Tag:
And the longest night
Ill ever spend will be tonight
cause I know no good way of saying

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A Bad Way Of Saying Goodbye

(trace adkins/sam hogin/jim mcbride)
You left without saying I love you
And that makes three days in a row
Now that youre tired of pretending
Its time that I let you know
I dont disagree with your feelings
We both need to find a new life
But this aint the way we should end it
Its a bad way of saying goodbye
There must be a better way of sayin' its over
Where nobody walks away with tears in their eyes
When you stay til regret is all you have left
Thats a bad way of saying goodbye
When I think of you Ill remember
How you looked at me when we met
But the way that youre looking at me now
Ill do my best to forget
Its not your fault, but its not mine
We both made mistakes though we tried
So leaving without syaing Im sorry
Is a bad way of saying goodbye
There must be a better way of saying its over
Where nobody walks away with tears in their eyes
When you stay til regret is all you have left
Thats a bad way of saying goodbye
Thats a bad way of saying goodbye

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Art of Humor

The parody, the comic
The irony, the slapstick 
The comedy, the joke
There are many names of humor

A little flirt, a bit sway
A random bait, a strike catch
A prick of crack, a needed pain
So far we go just for humor 

Because it is fun, because it is crazy
Because it is refreshing, because it brings laugh
Lightening the mood, building emotion
Always use humor in a good way

The situation, the mimic
The trap, the surprise 
The movement, the style
Only human could understand humor 

The witty question, the innocence answer
The spontaneous expression, the awaited performance 
The dilemma, the mistake
Everything could turn into humor 

To tease, to distract
To criticize, to attract 
To break the ice, to open the gag
Don't take humor too serious 

In critical condition, in awkward moment
In relaxing time, in happy hour 
In strange fact, in life experience
Do you know that God also has a sense of humor?

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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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And I also trust that there's more than one way to do something.

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I just don't like people coming up to me and saying something. It immediately makes you become insincere. There is no way you can react to it sincerely.

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Along The Way

along the way
there was something wrong with my life
i stepped upon a very sharp stone
i fell over and was not able to rise again

i was waiting for your helping hands.
that was the worst thing that i did.

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Something About The Weather

Dear sister, you have no idea
About the weather here
The earth is dry
We haven't seen any rain
For the past few years
And hunger is striking.

Looking out through the window
Father is trying to forecast the weather
And he has been saying something
But no one heard what the exact words are
For he's talking to no one, but himself.
Oh! how terrible things are here
The weather is bad, so bad that
I am beginning to believe what father has said.

'This is not weather, but a curse laid upon us.'
23/03/2004

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Hide and Seek

Wrap the shawl of twilight
Around your shoulders tonight

Come out and play
Hide and seek
In the cementery

Stand still as a stone
Don't you even breathe
Lest your presence now
You'll give yourself away

Dash from tree
And stone to stone
And all along the way
You're humming nonsense songs
No complaints or now they say

See the orange and weary moon
Raise his orbic head
Saying something, not quite sure
He's muttering to the dead

There is no sound, none what be
Except your beating heart
Evening mists drearily insists
Not a soul be found

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The New Way

You're alright, you're alive, you're the number one
They said that you're not ashamed of what you've done
Everyone makes mistakes
Make it up you'll be OK
That's what they tell you
You won't get the special treatment
I don't care what you do or say
Don't let them tell you what you're already thinking
It's a no win situation
Well enough of the old way
It's not working and the rules have already changed
What we need is a new way
There's something else just a little bit better
It's on the way
You're a drag, you're a bore, you're a rainy day
You take offense to almost everything they do or say
Everyone makes mistakes
Make it up you'll be OK

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Unisex Alco Metaphor

I ain’t no alco you know
I just sometimes take a drink
A drink a drink for a big think
‘Cause I’ve got no G G for a horse
Like
I ain’t no vice president
But the vice presides in me
Don’t worry I’m a nice also metaphor
‘Cause I can stop before I ‘plop’
Into saying something quite smart
Such as
Tequila lemon salt
Guerilla demons halt
Or something quite unique
Such as..er
We’re all those things we aren’t
And not always those things we are
Which is
Quite unisex I think

Should anybody sane be reading this
You might slip into a hush hush thought
Thinking this ‘Socrates’
Is really ‘spoiling the youth’
And the metaphor will stand
Quite defenseless
So just…say nothing.
No comment, please.

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Fresh

Chrousx2
Fresh
Fresh
Girl you are something else
You are
Verse 1(jamal)
I kniw this girl
Always walk with me
But she talk to steve
Also talk to d
How could this be in my world
I dont know to do
Honey your so cool
I wanna be yor fool
Cause shes...
Chrousx2
Fresh
Fresh
Girl you are something else
You are
Verse 2 (olamide)
The way she smiles
Something up her sleeve
I wish it was me
But the girl is just a tease
Please wait until you see youll freeze insteantly
But all she wanna be...
Chorusx3
Verse 3 (imajin)
Party people
Imajin out to let you know
That girl will steal your show
Never been so could
Party people
(party people)
Imajin out to let you know
That girl will steal your show
Never been so cold
Chorus till fade

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Just The Way I Am

i'm not perfect,
but who really is,
i'm different and unique,
that just all me,
there more to me,
then meets the eye,
just wait and see,
it don't take long,
i'm a person that act normal,
but, is different than you know,
that's okay,
because along the way,
i found somebody great,
somebody who remain true to herself,
because she realize,
she was perfect just the way she was,
everything about her,
is what made her who she is,
without all of differences,
she'll just be like everybody else,
playing is safe,
because they're afraid to take a chances,
in what life has to offer,
she may back down at first,
like i said,
nobody perfect,
but, never getting back up to try again,
is a way of saying you will never win.


5-02-09

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Boss Of The Nethers

The cupped cervix sat
on the coffee table.
We tried not to stare,
like our pupils would get fried by its brightness.

Perhaps my ex-wife left it as a reminder of the time
when human beings had hips, back when we had bodies.

Yes, that was fun-a cupcake of breeze disintegrating
on our cheeks, a banana muffin undressing in our nostrils,

but bodies broke down too,
and things are easier now.

Strange, how we see further without eyeballs. Our eyes tricked us
into thinking a wall was something not be seen through.

Mouths got in the way
of saying what needed saying.

When they were invented
mouths were only supposed to be used in emergencies,

but we couldn't resist,
which made god so mad

he ripped our ear in half,
and still we didn't listen.

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Luritja Way

There's no highway to luritja way
I listen I listen for it now.
There's no turnoff to luritja way
one moment one moment for me please.
I'm reaching out for you across a thousand years
I'm reaching out for you.
Joining the dots at luritja way
there is something hanging in the breeze.
Empty space at luritja way
no richer one picture of discontent.
I'm reaching out for you in a valley full of tears
I'm reaching out for you.
And I don't want to go home
gasoline junkies dance stoned
it's better than drinking alone.
Oh guiding light you will shine you'll pick me up
you'll hold me up
oh guiding light you will shine
you will shine on me in eternity.
Love is bought and sold
wobbegong tooth of gold
no one gets to get old.
I'm reaching out for you cos I still believe in you.

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Point Of Know Return

I heard the men saying something
The captains tell they pay you well
And they said they need sailing men to
Show the way and leave today
Was it you that said
How long
How long
How long
Was it you that said "How long"
They said the sea turned so dark
That you know it's time to see the sign
And they say the point
Demons guard is an ocean grave for all the brave
Was it you that said
How long
How long
How long
How long to the point of know return
Your father
He said he needs you
Your mother
She said she loves you
Your brothers
They echo the words
"How far to the point of know return"
"Well how long"
Today I found a message floating
In the sea from you to me
You wrote that when you could see it
You cried with fear the point was near
Was it you that said "How long
To the point of Know Return

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Something Stupid

I know I stand in line
Until you think you have the time
To spend an evening with me
And if we go someplace to dance
I know that there's a chance
You won't be leaving with me

Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place
And have a drink or two
And then I go and spoil it all
By saying something stupid
Like I love you

I can see it in your eyes
That you despise the same old lines
You heard the night before
And though it's just a line to you
For me it's true
And never seemed so right before

I practice every day to find some clever
lines to say
To make the meaning come through
But then I think I'll wait until the evening
gets late
And I'm alone with you

The time is right
Your perfume fills my head
The stars get red
And oh the night's so blue
And then I go and spoil it all
By saying something stupid
Like I love you
I love you...

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Something You Said

M. lunn/a. gorrie
I didnt stand a chance
I heard a voice within
With just a passing glance
You made the walls cave in
You were gone baby, without a word
I got the message loud and clear
Couldnt help but hear
As you were walkin away
It was somethin you said...
Now I wake up in the night
Strange things in my head
Oh, you did it with your eyes
It musta been something
Musta been something you said
So say it again
Im just delirious
Caught in a waking dream
Did you mean what you said
An did you say what you mean
Mere words - fade away
You had a language I couldnt miss
It was on your lips, but
You didnt get me that way
It was something you said
Now I wake up in the night
Strange things in my head
Oh, you did it with your eyes
It musta been something
Musta been something you said
So say it again
In the middle of the night
All alone in my bed
It was nothin you could write
It musta been something
Musta been something you said

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Someday

(branson/mindel)
Theres only one way to go when youre up too high
Youve gotta come down; youve gotta come down
And theres only one way of saying the word goodbye
Youve gotta come down; youve gotta come down
Youve gotta be sure youre not throwing your life away
You know I can say youll regret it someday
But someday, many tears and far away
Theres gonna be something thats gonna make you want to stay
And if someday you should wake and want me near
Ill still be here
Theres only one thing to do when you reach the end
Youve gotta let go; youve gotta let go
And theres only one scene when its all pretend
Youve gotta let go; youve gotta let go
Youve gotta be sure youre not throwing your life away
You know I can say youll regret it someday
And you know that someday, when theres no one sleeping on your mind
Youre gonna wake up and see tomorrow isnt hard to find
And if years dont heal the memories you feel
Ill still be here
Someday
And if someday you should wake and want me near
Ill still be here
Someday

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A Rainy Day Enjoyed

Waking this morning is unhurried, even slow –
the weather is saying something to the body.
The forecast for the day, it seems, is rain.

Time, then, for that ease of human living –
a day of light and measured pleasures,
to be indulged in, not too briefly,
not too long; to love each thing at home within itself;

open all the windows, and perhaps the doors –
let in that rain-washed air, conditioned, cool,
be inside and yet outside; it once was said
that rain comes only after sacrifice;
this rain is holy.

Idly open a drawer not opened for some time;
find there a children’s toy or game;
live for some minutes as a child again,
smelling rain as you once smelled it,
full of the promise of a lifetime not yet lived.

Be that child again, in this loving house;
love this rainy day as children do,
living life the way it’s offered; all
too present to need future dreams;

let the golden present sift gently through your fingers,
you, unhurried, loving life
as it now, today, loves you.

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