I'll Never Go Back Home
2003-08-23 14:15:19 ET

I wish I had your problems
then they wouldn't be mine
then we could laugh
laugh laugh laugh
instead of cry

if I had a dollar
for every time
then I'd be a poor poor,
poor poor man
with a whole lot of wine

I have gone
many a ways
I have lost
man a days
still I wander, yes I wander
and I'll never go back home

I saw you talking
with sweet Joan of Arc
yeah, I saw you tie her to that tree,
you said it's just a spark

yeah I found your secret
up there in the dark
when you try to make it on that bench
with squirrels in the park

I've seen many a face
I've seen yours, and what a disgrace
still I wander, yes I wander
and I'll never go back home

I saw you talkin
wit Adam and Eve
and they were sayin
if you or that snake
were safer to believe

I found your knife, sharp
there in your kitchen sink
but instead of drippin virgin blood
it was just printers ink

I have lost many a day
I have thrown many away
still I wander yes I wander,
and I'll never go back home.
and I'll never go back home

*insert killer whistle solo here*

and I'll never go back home
yes I wander

and I'll never go back home
- Vic Ruggiero

2003-08-23 13:59:59 ET

I'm trapped
with the door wide open
i'm paralyzed by
doubt and indecision
by apathy and worry
I'm stuck in my room
an open field
and a feeling of freedom

the Poet's night out
2003-08-23 13:58:26 ET

Principles are easily broken
Hate only goes so far
ideals always hit the ceiling
art is boundless
says the man with the pen
sitting at home
tired and alone
talking to the cats
writing poems about the past
and hoping for the future
while still not sure
what to do or what to say
to see that he gets his way
the Future's a black hole
History's a hazy blur
written by those who've been there
But a man can pave his own road
the pen scratches to a halt
eyes wander again
his mind a blank
the cat plays with a shoelace
something clunks upstairs
the artist puts down his work
and goes to see what they broke.

2003-08-23 13:54:00 ET

Black, white, gay, straight
it doesn't matter a bit
when you're trapped on a planet
run by damn, dirty apes!

2003-08-23 13:53:19 ET

Been working in Allentown, PA, and just sitting around evenings at my ex-professor's house, reading and writing more shitty poetry. so here goes some -

Why do cats climb on boxes?
Why do they look in bags?
Why do they grab at things on the ceiling
and see if they can hang?

Don't they have anything better to do?
Can't they better use their time?
Better to enjoy your short life
than toil it away like yours and mine.

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