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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 *whistles* 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 remembering 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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