School Boy

He was an outstanding young man
He took his mother’s hand
to the bus stop
the fist day of school
From day one he tried to fit in
But he just wasn’t cool

His clothes weren’t the same name
His house was old
And his bleeding heart
it seemed to warm
for a world much to cold

Spinning out of orbit
in a world much too cold

He was a nice kid
but he made some mistakes
that his parents did
And twelve years of school
didn’t improve his status very well
insecurities ate him up inside
and the slightest complement
was known to make his head swell

Spinning out of orbit
in a world much too cold

Then one cold December day
when he might have gone and thrown it all away
He said: “I know I need you
but what do you want with me?”
The only reply was: “I Love you”

This is a song I wrote circa 1999. I know that the vocals are ruff and the overall sound may be bit amateurish, but I was writing something tonight on my other blog that caused me to revisit this and I just thought that I would share it.

~wwb

Hope

Stolen from her mother’s womb
headed for an unmarked tomb
she cries but we can’t hear her
she’d die but we still need her
when endless starless nights
and the morning afters scream
our voices paralyzed for lack
of nurture only she can bring
if everything is everything
that leaves nothing left unseen
she waits for us to wake up
and she visits in our dreams
tied not with lock and chain
bound not with three fold chord
she wonders restlessly, waiting
on a not to distant shore
separated by a sea of dull yellow
that her captors call dismay
we wait for her to swim to us
while our beaches fade away
she’s chased into the wilderness
by a never gentile tied
that serves as a reminder
of everything thats died

HOPE

~wwb

Gibberish

Nothing fits
losing grip
portrait
money spent
torturous
they want rent
make a wish
gibberish

~wwb

Save this Dance

I can’t sleep and I can’t eat
but this isn’t like before
Every part of you is part of me
but I’m still wanting more

Soon, soon we’ll take the floor
before the music fades
and all the dancers find the door
But maybe if we stayed…

If we’d stay, we’d keep at bay
the impending doom
Maybe we could dissolve this way
would that be fine with you?

Maybe we’ll never leave this room
If doom insists it stay
with you I’d die a thousand times
a thousand different days

It’s the way you shake and sway
I’m repeating ev’ry line
So much more that I’d like to say
but ‘in the blood’ is fine

And if we succeed at stopping time
then I must implore
that we keep whispering every line
out on this dusty floor

~wwb

Beauty in the Swamp (Revisited)

There is an army of ants
circling around my bed
They want to march on my leg
and have a picnic in my head
There is a green witch in the back yard
She wears a black robe with a train
She sits on a burning chair
labeled the sacred and profane

I’m going to Los Angeles
but what’s in a name
A city in any other place
would still glow the same

There is a highway in the front yard
I hope to take it anywhere but fear
But everything I ever hated
will follow me from here

there are spies in the kitchen
There’s an emergency in the air
I’m sick of doing nothing
Doing something can’t compare

There is liberation in the water
Where gnomes and witches can never go
but they stand on the banks
and hope to pacify those who know

We’ve been laboring over language
digging beneath the crag and the moss
Waiting for the music
to convey a feeling that’s been lost
waiting for a place to break bread
while some just stood by weeping
Maybe the true remnant has been keeping watch
while the rest of us were sleeping

~wwb

Slowly Becoming

The Emperor’s new clothes
are tighter than before
vanity is a bitch
that lies naked at my door

Jealousy it eats at me
as I collect wooden spoons
and imagine silver lining
with my fragile ego bruised

Give and take – bake and break
and save a piece for me
so this avarice and jealousy
wont be the end of me

~wwb

In My Lover’s Arms

I want to fall into my lover’s arms
and give myself away
I want to fall into my lover’s arms
stay there night and day

Over her and under her
inside her just the same
right there in my lover’s arms
where she gives me a new name

I want to crawl inside my lover’s heart
and flow through every vein
I want to crawl inside my lover’s heart
where her soul and mine are same

She’s over me and under me
inside me all the same
I’m right there inside her heart
where I whisper her new name

Together now, together then
whether beside or inside space and time
in her arms and in her heart
is where I’ve rediscovered mine

~wwb

The Boy Who Talked to Trees

Could I tell you
who I am?
I bet I could sell you
where I’ve been
lost in a wonder
and I’ve forgotten where I am
you wouldn’t know
because you never gave a damn

I’m the boy who talked to trees
in your backyard but you never knew
I’m the boy who talked to trees
in your backyard and you still don’t know me

When I grow up
If I do before you
although you came before me
I will pull you through
life is a wonder
that can be forgotten all the same
when the one who says they love you
never calls you by your name

~wwb circa 2001

“I tried hard to have a father but instead I had a dad” ~Kurt Cobain – Serve the Servants

In my Lover’s Stare (I Rise Above Their Gaze)

Would you wrap yourself around me
I hunger for your night
In the shade of your garden
Is where I find my light

Take me now at twilight
I’m at your mercy there
I rise above their gaze
to find salvation in your stare

May angels carry this prayer
I’m at your Wailing Wall
I can’t breathe without your air
I’m at your beckon call

Devastate my heart again, love
and listen to my song
If you sing it with me
I’ll know that I belong

~wwb

Blood

I have blood, I have blood
I have needs just like you
I have love, I have love
and I want to see it through

The blood on my hands
taints the taste of your devotion
the love in my glands
mistakes your scent for emotion

I have love, I have love
and I am broken just like you
wear this glove, wear this glove
to catch the seed I’ve sucked from you

the love in my hands
left me full of reservations
the gloves upon your hands
serve in gentle devastations

I have sung, I have sung
the last song I’ll sing for you
I have spun, I have spun
a web we both see through

the song on my lips
taste of quiet desperation
but the movement of her hips
moves me toward emancipation

I have fire, I have fire
it was not just infatuation
but I’ve acquired renewed desire
to possess my imagination

the fire in my sky
burns with warm illumination
the desire in my eye
has found its designation

~wwb