Tag Archives: Wishes

You Have It, But You Choose How

I share with you a secret

That you think cannot be true:

That everything to ever be

Exists solely for you,

That every book and every shell

And every coin and bill

And every star and sunrise

And every sloping hill

Exist as in a melody

From one eternal voice,

That you might seek to claim them

Through your only power: choice.

For if you choose to value wealth

Then wealth you will attain

Through labor, luck, investment,

Or through theft and threat of pain.

Perhaps you value honesty

And see all worldly truth,

Or perhaps you choose your body,

To sustain the light of youth.

But though the universe is yours

You cannot hold a star

For the heat of it would burn you up

(And also, it’s too far).

So too, if wealth should pass you by

Or youth and strength should wane

That too’s the gift of everything

Preventing unseen pain.

So if you wish to value

That which pleases most of all,

Don’t wish for that which others give

(Or to be six feet tall)

But choose to value where you are,

To dream only to be,

And you shall live in paradise

For all eternity.

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Hallelujah

There lived a man who wished to die,

With lips malformed so when he’d sigh

The anguish that emerged was like

The first sunrise of Spring.

The humans that he’d never known

Had from all places to him flown

With no intent to comfort him

But just to hear him sing.

The singer sang, the cryer cried

To oceans deep and mountains wide

And every human listener thought

The singer read their mind.

The speaker spoke, the moaner moaned.

His sorrows said, his hopes intoned

Leaving unspoken just enough,

Ensuring seekers find.

He screamed at them in loneliness:

A girl in far too short a dress

Confused by why she couldn’t find

A man who’d stay ’til morning

And, to the men who eyed her, said

To see her heart before her bed

But all they heard were pretty words

And not the singer’s warning.

He sang to those who owned the gold,

The young who’d never gotten old,

The old who’d never been a child,

To those without a penny.

His sharing was his means to cope.

His medicine was spreading hope

Perhaps to you, the listening few

Among the mindless many.

The living listened as he cried,

He sang also to those who died,

A song for all who made mistakes

And sought to change their fate.

Some say that Satan turned to hear

And even shed a single tear.

Although the angel fell from grace

His wings might still bear weight.

No one asked the singer’s name.

To his wake no listeners came

For clouds above were pearly white

And sky above was blue.

Thus did the singer move along.

No longer needed was his song.

The singer lives forever

Even though his wish came true.

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Paper Heart

Twenty years or so before

I turned the age of 24

I feared to give a paper heart

To that one special lass.

Ten years after, now 14

I’ve had my eye on other queens

But my feeling for the paper heart girl

Never seems to pass.

In the present world we find

Our troubled and still childish mind

Called to give the other sex

Eternal loyalty.

I’m loyal to who understands

My paper heart and shaking hands.

Does she still exist? Perhaps

In ten more years we’ll see.

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Nice Guys Finish Last… It’s A Gift

All I want for Christmas

Is a lump of coal.

I hope I get one soon.

My only problem

Is I’m a good boy

And also that it’s June.

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The Placelandian National Anthem

Placelandia! We celebrate

The nation that is not a state,

The place where politicians come to die!

Where residents have common sense

And our plan for national defense

Is not to be a dick to folks nearby.

Placelandia! We celebrate

Our lack (so far) of Watergate

Or other nasty scandals of that kind.

Where citizens think differently

And something backs our currency;

A country built with happiness in mind.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

A nation that can safely be ignored.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

Where drama-seeking tourists will be bored.

Placelandia! We celebrate

That here nice guys can get a date

And nobody is told they must comply.

Where everybody owns a Glock

And Fox exec Rupert Murdoch

Would not have had to cancel Firefly.

Placelandia! We celebrate

A place mostly devoid of hate,

Where legs just shave themselves if given time.

We hope you have enjoyed this song

And pop stars didn’t sing too long

Before the very easy ending rhyme.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

It’s a pretty snazzy kinda joint.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

Okay, okay, okay! We get the point!

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Filed under Lyrics, Poems, Songs

My (So Far) Unpublished Picture Book

Bobby was an antelope

That lived out on the plains.

He had a happy smile

To conceal his inner pains

‘Cause though he was an antelope

What Bobby always sought

Was to turn into a camel.

Eventually that’s what he got.

Bobby’s story is inspiring

A lot like Forrest Gump.

He was a horny animal

Who just wanted a hump.

He had a little surgery

And moved to the Sahara.

To his family he said “bye”

And, to his troubles, “sayonara.”

But it turns out as a camel

Bobby suffered from great thirst.

Before he made his change

He should have thought about it first!

So Bobby died alone

Among the cacti and the sand.

He got exactly what he wanted

But it wasn’t what he’d planned.

Bobby didn’t go to heaven,

Nor to limbo or to hell

Because there is no afterlife

For our heroic trans-camel.

So if you really want something

A little or a lot

Use Bobby’s tale of woe

To eliminate that thought!

🐮🐪😁🌵☠️💡💔

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Impression: Los Angeles

I stood out here once before

Seeking what could not be found

Head to toe in the neon cloak of midnight

Listening for the absence of a sound.

I saw humans crawl past empty sidewalks

Burning gas and paying fares

On the way to work that will empower them

To buy their surplus worries and cares.

They seek comfort in a glasses, pills, and needles,

Pray for hope through a politician’s lies.

Paychecks promise them the satisfaction

Of being happy in someone else’s eyes.

Red-eye pilots flee this urban heaven

Carrying those with sense enough to flee.

I just read my scripts and idly wonder

What it’s like to see a real tree.

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