(dancing machine)

"Disco Dancing"

I want to meld into you. You and your rock and roll stories, your slacker stance.

I will brush against you. I will touch your arm to make a point. I will use all the patented moves that my drunken mind can recall.

You will bring your ukulele to a laser light rock show. You will wear snow shoes to my beach.

I will speak of angels to an atheist. I will speak of crime and punishment to a burglar. I will clap at the wrong time, wrong place.

total eclipse

[originally posted on myspace on February 11, 2010]

I had several thoughts last night, which I decided (in the warmth and comfort of my lovely bed) I'd remember them in the morning...but I'm stuck. I should have gotten out of bed and written them down. Can't remember a thing. Back on track with the gym, as of this morning, so that's good. Yup. Not remembering. I had a cute little title and everything. Oh, well...here's a 'poem' type thing written a few weeks ago...enjoy.

"seconds"

Trembling tattooed ribbons down his sleeve, he makes the sign of the cross in the parking lot.

His head is someplace else and you won't be the one to bandage up his broken heart tonight.

There is no urgency in your desire. I cannot see what you once saw.

I think I'm happy but I'm going nowhere.

the boy with a poem in his eyes

[originally posted on myspace on Thursday, March 19, 2009]

"our girl is here"

When you stand in my doorway in a medicined hazed and say “absolute power corrupts absolutely” (it’s so hackneyed, I know), there is something so beautiful, so preachy yet genuine that surrounds you. Makes my throat ache, makes me want to run away from here, if only for an hour, and commit petty misdemeanors. Analytical if left to your own devices. You don’t know me but don’t I know it.

you should be dancing, yeah

[originally posted on myspace on November 20, 2008, Thursday]

I just read that the Amazon publishing contest that I entered last year (that temporarily crushed my spirit last year) is back! Yea! I have until beginning of February to get my shypt together. Also, this year, they added a new rule - a word minimum of 50,000. Which means my entry submitted last year was probably just considered too short (I made it short on purpose, very short attention span feel) and (possibly) not just considered not good!! That feels good.

Anyway, yeah, open mike Tuesday and I wrote more words down. I think when someone performs their own songs (rather than cover Cake or Amy Winehouse, snores) and actually has some intelligent lines in the lyrics, it makes little flurries of sentences shake in my pretty snowglobe head. I also figured out that, in the future, I need to sit towards the back (and not on the front sofa, under a bright lamp, right in front of the stage) because, as much as I admire everyone for getting up there (backpeddling before the kill), I can't keep a straight face if someone is awful. Or has technical issues. Repeated technical issues.

Tuesday's performances inspired this...

"losing your rock and roll"

Playing hard to get from across the room, our view blocked by unintentional 'fros and old men spouting ten cent words, blocked by tables littered with left over dollar bills.

Waiting for Jesus to walk in, as he'll come through sooner than you.

Feedback scratches my ears, while I find solace in my protected sofa.

(you pronounced 'solace' wrong)

They smashed your headlights in a fit of jealous rage.

They bought a keyboard.They bought a new guitar.I

loved you when it didn't matter.

You always left my throat dry.

yellow red letter day

[originally posted on myspace on December 8, 2008, Monday]

I was chewing BubbleYum (mmm) and my brain told me to type this:

" 'Recessionista' is an ugly word. "

We bond over mocking small children

And crushing their dreams like sugar laced bubblegum wrappers.

Are we right, are we the only ones with talent, brains and the know how

or are we just old and bitter and making up for lost time?

old notes play in my bloodstream

[orginally posted on myspace on Tuesday, July 24, 2007]

It's good to document people, places and things, so you are never tempted to fall backwards, to repeat the same mistakes.

"Broken needle on a worn record (and another)"

Have you ever been asked to change, to adapt to another's liking?
Did you do it? Did you try?
Or did you hold true to your own stubbornness?
Or did you just keep your mouth shut and wait for this to also pass?

It was there. I saw it. I read and reread it, analyzed and interrupted it.
The sidewalk divides and makes you just another stranger.
Bite your tongue. Don't fuck this one up.