| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/1/2008 11:40:34 AM | A weed is a state of mind
sometimes wish I was blind
in the backyard I could fill twenty crates
Can’t they just peacefully move to the States?
thistles that whistle lions that roar
crowds of new ones bloomed more and more
I can see procrastination fully in store
pulled the shades and slammed the door! | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/1/2008 11:53:27 AM | pulled the shades and slammed the door!
no more will I be your whore
find yourself another fool
to lie to when you're feeling cruel
I watch you while you run your lines
I can't believe I missed the signs
the scales have fallen off my eyes
for I can see right through your lies | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/1/2008 1:09:07 PM | for I can see right through your lies
My own are more elusive.
They know their target, me, too well,
And flatter and cajole him.
Honesty is a game of Indian poker.
We can easily see another's cards,
But without that mirror,
We can only guess our at our own. | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/1/2008 4:14:05 PM | We can only guess at our own.
i turn my head and pick up the phone
for just like you, i dont wanna be alone
but i still wont be an ***hole
I would rather be like hawkeye pierce
walk round in my bathrobe and still be fierce
downshift to not hit the truck that just dropped gears
i will continue just playing my role | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/1/2008 4:14:16 PM | We can only guess at our own.
i turn my head and pick up the phone
for just like you, i dont wanna be alone
but i still wont be an ***hole
I would rather be like hawkeye pierce
walk round in my bathrobe and still be fierce
downshift to not hit the truck that just dropped gears
i will continue just playing my role | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/1/2008 4:14:29 PM | We can only guess at our own.
i turn my head and pick up the phone
for just like you, i dont wanna be alone
but i still wont be an ***hole
I would rather be like hawkeye pierce
walk round in my bathrobe and still be fierce
downshift to not hit the truck that just dropped gears
i will continue just playing my role | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/1/2008 11:30:10 PM | i will continue just playing my role
i will continue just playing my role
i will continue just playing my role
DAMN, my role player's skipping
Stop playing with your food
I hear my imaginary Mommy say
You misunderstand, you misunderstand, you misunderstand
There's no roll on my plate, Mom, just beans and nothingness | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/2/2008 3:28:14 AM | There's no roll on my plate, Mom, just beans and nothingness called spam
you know the scam they pull on some without a key or ram
that door of opportunity is shut, bolted and has a welded jam
I'll cram some more down that gullet before I get the pram
baby is crying like every other minute of the night
not that you don't help cause the fright
with sights and sounds as if we were living in hell
I still love that rock and roll spell | |
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longte
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Joined: 10/18/2004
Msg: 4684 | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/2/2008 5:31:58 AM | metallica will always rage
but take me back further to the age
when rock n' roll was supreme
and the riffs really mean
jethro tull, jeff beck, jimi and the doors
buffalo springfield, blind faith, so much more
their words still live today
they have sooo much to say | |
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longte
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Joined: 10/18/2004
Msg: 4686 | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/2/2008 7:18:50 AM | so much now just seems absurd...
its not like what I thought I heard..
a new perspective now looks back...
at who we were and what we so did lack
I see that what we thought was so...
in panormamic view fully does show
so leave the mirror of the past
gazing to the future, a new shadow cast | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/2/2008 3:57:01 PM | gazing to the future, a new shadow cast
Who hurt that shadow? (It had to be asked.)
Plastered in Paris, that shadow, at last
Had a drunken accident in the Rue D'Orsay
And now lumbers rather than flits
A shadow, sadly, with its own sad shadow
Given to fits, (and starts)
Accross Paris, plastered, in parts | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/2/2008 10:05:52 PM | say a quiet prayer...it could easily be you
Up on that cross, nearly naked and nailed
Not knowing, 2,000 years later
A bejeweled ex-Nazi in robes
Will front for you in Rome while
Here in the USA
Homophobes and haters
Invoke your name | |
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longte
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Joined: 10/18/2004
Msg: 4691 | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/3/2008 8:54:54 AM | Reaching for the sun
Fingers out stretched in desperation
Caressing a flames as likely to burn as to soothe
No cares for the future nor cares for the past
Then passing the torch once more
From a moment beheld in splendor today
To the next which is as easily forgotten tomorrow | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/3/2008 9:18:41 AM | To the next which is as easily forgotten tomorrow
That is where I want to go
To the next, to tomorrow's lack of recall
Of what will be yesterday's sorrow.
Tomorrow's 24 hours will be plenty of time
to forget today, its tasks and duties waiting
To tomorrow, to amnesia of all that will be past
with 24 hours all promising to be mine. | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/4/2008 9:02:53 AM | hope indeed does float.
though life's tide oft carries under..
it drifts and waits reach
even for a heart torn asunder.
hope indeed does float
awaiting that tweak of perspective
when desire through new eyes..
for life ,again is infective. | |
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| LAST LINE BECOMES YOUR FIRST LINE OF AN 8 (EIGHT) LINE STANZA
Posted: 7/4/2008 9:47:16 AM | just don't teach me no metric
i'd rather it be tough and hectic
12 inches= foot, 3 feet=yard
wtf...now that is hard
math is the language of science
and i don't want to be defiant
but poetry is the language of love
that is what i feel from above | |
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