The Platinum Chord

i. …and I’m Feline Good

Beneath twilight’s dusty speckled sky
sits a lonely figure cut against a streetlight’s goading shine.
A version of Nosferatu more laughable than fearful
passing time with Jack Frost and his infinitesimal army,
blowing smoke rings from his near-to-the-filter cigarette.
He flicks it away into bushes, which ignite
and burn this whole sorry world to ash.

A black cat meanders, pauses, meanders some more,
then rushes into a field for a mouse.
A brief company, he thinks, momentarily blinded by hope,
a flash in the pan extinguished as hastily as bad memories
flitting around his head like a masquerading ballerina
trying to ensnare him in her overpowering elegance and beauty.

He is a passé style of man, once lauded, now forgotten
in the trends of a brand new generation of idiots and losers
all harbouring ambitions lesser than a mosquito’s ability to recite Nietzsche.
But, as with all things, he has a saving grace;
the platinum chord on his gold guitar,
the wingèd nymph in his glaucoma-riddled mind’s eye,
the fruit of the Tree never touched by Man.
He has a saving grace,
the man he is not which will surely be.

ii. …Because it Fell From the Sky

We are nocturnal or else we would not find wonder in the stars
or gaze at a full moon and imagine how it would feel to look back,
to see the tiny blue marble whistling across the dark sky.
We are diurnal or else we would not appreciate colour
or walk beneath the bellowing sun hand-in-hand with Love,
and feel that everything fits perfectly in our own little worlds.
We are cathemeral or else we would be born blind and die sad.

This is the thought train that arrived in his terminal
and he began thinking where it could have possibly come from.
It fell from the sky,
God’s honest truth and His worst curse,
because it fell from the sky.

iii. …Well, He’s Only Human After All

He stands up, walks a few yards, then sits back down on a stone wall,
overgrown with moss and colonised with families of fungi.
Gypsies have carved rudimentary signs into the stonework,
crumbling and eroding until eventually nothing will exist
and no one who passes by in the future will ever know
that this figure of black glass ever sat there and wondered of existence.

He is human, and as such, he is prone to dilemmas everyone faces,
such is the gift of sentience, that great quarrelsome ability.
He knows he will die, so he imagines it, as you do too.
Of course, he only ever thinks of the pain he will suffer,
because with sentience comes selfishness, a farcical attribute we all need.
He is afraid of change, and death is the greatest change of all.
Well, he’s only human after all.

He lights another cigarette, and another five minutes passes by silently,
harbouring death’s stench and bloodlust, although he feels the slightest of breezes
gently kiss the side of his neck and the chill runs down his spine.
A shiver, slight, elegant, cruises through his body and he stands up,
terrified of nature, of the cold and the dark and the sky.
He runs and runs until he can run no longer.
He has no idea where he is.

He is lost, and a parable arises but other thoughts vanquish it.
It has been proven that humans, with no object of reference,
will walk in complete circles when hopelessly lost.
Sometimes the diameters of those circles are just a couple dozen metres.
In the field he is standing in, he has walked less than fifty paces,
having unknowingly completed a full circle and more.
He’ll find his way eventually, but how he gets there is unimportant.

iv. …But If He Doesn’t Wake Up, What Then?

Four in the morning is the time he eventually fell asleep,
after wandering in the dark, alone, afraid, for three hours,
listing all the things he wants to do in his life,
not knowing he will accomplish only one of those,
that when death eventually comes, it be painless.
He might die tonight, who knows. I am no seer.
But if he doesn’t wake up, what then?

Then I will find someone else to follow,
someone who is so despairingly depressed
that the pull of his or her anorexic ego will draw me in,
like a planet orbiting too closely around its parent star.
Then I will be able to create another story like this,
one with new ideas on life and death,
with different views of the sky at night and the clouds in day.
If he doesn’t wake up, I will be lost, if just for a little while.

v. …and Don’t Look Behind You

…for you will not see me melt into the air.

Writer of the Month for February!

What an amazing month this has been for Platnium Writers.  The writer of the month is Devout Depressionist /Steve Bowden.  Congrats to Steve and his beautiful poems that earned him this title.

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING *

in such a
lovely, lovely dream
I stood
there in your room
watching you
as you slept
such sweet tranquil repose
that it was
until you so lovingly called
out my name
and I nearly wept
rushing to you
I soothed and
consoled
as best as I could
languishing together
there as we lay
in images of
tenderness untold
you clung to me
half bereft
so very certain you were
that I was but a dream
and as much as it hurt
to admit
I could not lie to you
such beseeching disbelief
held your eyes as mine
they scanned
as if to say please, please
my love just tell me
that you are real
and this will not end
for all its beauty warmth
and intent
I held you kissing your
confused yet hopeful brow
and apologised profusely
in such sweet sorrowful lament
I am but a dream
yes
for now I crooned
but I won't always be
and I promise you
with everything that
makes me, me
that I will return fully
real in the flesh
and live out my
allotted years
solely with the
so weep not my
tortured disbeliever
allow me to go now
as much as I hate to
while you are
deep in the safety
of your sleep
and wholly unaware
and this lovely dream
we two can cherish
so closely in our hearts
and reminisce of
when we are at the height of
our lives' eternal love affair......................
(Feb. 28, 2011 356pm)

One, Two, Three

One little gene
POP, POP, POP
Comfort I will never know
Two little bees
BUZZ, BUZZ, BUZZ
Soon I will only have
The music in my head
Three little words
I LOVE YOU
Pierces through my body
Each and every day

What Happened?

What Happened?
What happened she had the nerve to ask
I will tell you what happened
It was hard and I didn't care
Perhaps you shouldn't either
What happened?
What happened she had the nerve to ask
I will tell you what happened
You need to wake up and see the world
Perhaps you are just that arrogant
What happened?
What happened she had the nerve to ask
You need a new audience or get a new writer
Perhaps one day you will wonder
What happened to you

Kelly

Somewhere there is a girl named Kelly
She is sitting by the phone
Last night she wrote her number
On a dollar bill and gave it to a guy
Today he came into pizza hut
And put that dollar in my tip jar
Not sure whether it was
An accident or on purpose
Pretty sure Kelly is not
Getting that call
Poor, poor Kelly

The Seed

The day you left I was given a seed
The seed was ordinary as any other
It was black with white vertical lines
It was a black walnut seed
It sat on my desk for weeks
I didn't know what to do without you
You were my north star, my compass
One day while cleaning my room
I came across it again
So I put it in the ground like I did you
It is growing into quite the tree
It looks over us just like you
So its like you never left at all

Remembering

I drove past it again today
The constant reminder you are no longer here
Two pieces of wood haunts me
Nothing will ever be the same
No matter what I do I can't avoid it
Its always their mocking me and that night
Of the decisions we made
How stupid we were to think we were invincible
What I would do to take it all back
Or at least switch places with you
Never again will I make the same mistake twice
I drive past it again and again
The constant reminder of the friends I no longer have
Three crosses on Cherokke Road

Lori Petty to play Ms. Hall

Lori Petty has been on the down low for the last couple of years.  This would be the perfect vehicle for her to come back and shine.

Erin Daniels to play Latimer's Mom

The site has gotten alot of hits since my compagin to get Stacey Farber to play Susan began yesterday and got some positive feed back I have decided to expand to all of my picks for the movie.

I love Erin Daniels and would love to see her in this movie.  Like with Stacey to join the petition just put 'agree' or 'yes' in the comment section under that actor's post.

Stacey Farber to play Susan

As you can tell from the blog one of our amazing writers has written a book called 'One Year'.  Though nothing is official yet me and my friends who have read it all agree a movie will be next.  In Courtney Ella's 'joke' cast she has Beatrice of York playing Susan but after seeing Matthew-Thomas's tweet this weekend and watching a couple episodes of Degrassi and 18 to Life she has made a mistake and it should be played by Stacey Farber.  So today I am starting a compagin to get her cast in the movie as Susan.  To participate tweet @staceyfarber18 or under the comment books type 'agreed'.  I think we have a good chance in getting her to do this.

My First day @ blogger School ( um so to type!)

I am not entirely certain who gave me a heads up about this blogger idea but I enjoy a broad variety of on line interactions so I thought why not and here I am. For the most part, my blogging will be a fluid sharing of my poetry and that will take some time. I had a previous web page that shut down called Writer House and it seems some of the members there are trying to get it back up again and running but I won't hold my internet breath any longer waiting for THAT to happen. Still, I look forward to starting this blog . I had entertained the idea for quite some time but had never been invited to blog before and I suppose that is all it really took was an invite so here I am.
By the way, whoever invited me (if you are human that is and not some random generation of wide spread invitations to any email ) please email me revealing your semi genius thought behind such intent. Would be nice to learn you were just some appreciative fan of mine on post poems but I refuse to hold my breath over that idea too. Anyway welcome one , welcome all to 'My First Day @ Blogger School' (um so to type!) sincerely, a truly most appreciative p_h....................

Each and Every

With each and every turn of your monocoque,
your gauge of emotions, the hardware of the hard-wired,
some pitiful pestilence of pastimes and propaganda plays
delivered out of key and out of tune.
With each and every fall of your quivered words
like cherry-blossom petals falling between bullets,
like dead pheasants plummeting amidst the butterflies,
broken bumblebee wings ostracized for being impossible.
With each and every arch of your back as you paralyse yourself
and demand attention for being so damn beautiful,
a Nefertiti-esque paralogism in the determination of war.

Why must you dirty your face with cholera-water
when you stand on the shores of the Sea of Galilee?
Each and every quirk unnoticed logistically unsound,
and yet the more I hate you, the more I want you.
The more I want you, the less I need you.
The less I need you, the more I demand you.
With each and every thought, you move further away.

With each and every dream
you become less real.

Happy Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day to all the writers out there. Post your love poems today.  You can email me at platniumwriters@yahoo.com to join the blog.

Power Of The Blade

Power of the Blade


It can cast a shadow
It can cast a shine
There’s no more powerful object
Than that sharp blade of mine

I slid it out of my drawer
You could hear the scrape of metal
The sensation won’t hurt
Feels like the brush of a nettle

Depending when you do it of course
If it’s while you’re prepping food
It hurts like hell, but when it’s to release
It sets the perfect mood

Tonight it’s for release
I hold it limp in my hand
I think and I think
The rest... Is unplanned

I swiped a slash
At my bare-skinned wrist
With fury and aggression
Re-living our first kiss

At the time it was heaven
The memories taste sour
I loved you so much
Until our final hour

I hate that you’re still with me
Right here in my head
So many moons have been and gone
Sometimes I wish I was dead

I have another hack
And observe what I see
Deep red sadness flows
I ease onto my knee

I feel light headed
After five or six shreds
I fall into a trance
Swaying by my bed

Pulsating veins submissive
To the greater powers above
Who’d have thought this depression
Would develop from true love

I sit here cold and still
In a red bloody mess
I took as much as I could
Would I do it all again?... Yes

7/12/2010

Flirt

Flirt

The rain poured hard
Hard as rock
I looked at the ground
I was still in shock

I opened my hand
The shovel fell out
She never struggled
Not even a shout

You did the right thing
She deserved what she got
Just the once she said
…. I think not

She fell so quietly
Quiet as a mouse
I had to get her out
Away from the house.

I drove and drove
To where we used to lie round
I would never have thought
She’d lay underground

I dragged her to the hole
Her lips.. so soft
I kissed them once more
Then backed away and coughed

I sobbed and cried
As I patted the last spot of dirt
This serves you right
You cheating flirt

Burning Desire

Burning Desire

I crept up to her house quite late at night
I peered through the window to a wonderful sight
I saw her undressing, getting ready for bed
I could even see the pillow crease as she rested her head.

When I knew she was sound in her sleep
I broke in through the window, my breathing was deep
I tip toed to her room, not intending any good
My desire for her, no-one understood

I’d tried to win it, I tried to win her heart
When she mocked me, it tore me apart
How fucking dare she humiliate me
I got down onto my knee.

I peeled back her bed cover
Down past her feet
She was sleeping so innocently,
I was in for a treat.

I reached up her night dress, her skin was smooth and soft
I felt her tenderness; it was just how I imagined
She began to move, I thought she was waking
I started to panic, my hands, they were shaking.

She awoke and let out a cry.
I didn’t want to beat her badly, I thought she might die
I grasped my hand over her mouth
And gagged her and grabbed down south.

She sobbed and moaned
But it made me feel alive
I took a deep breath
And counted to five.

She was lying there, helpless
I let my hand stray down below
There was an awkward silence
As moved my finger to and fro.

I pushed my fingers inside and out
It was warm and it was moist
My heart at this stage was racing
I was fully aware of what I was facing.

I knew I couldn’t let her live after this night
I unzipped my trousers and gripped her throat tight
I inserted myself in her, and began thrusting away
As if it were another day.

Her moan weakened, she was short of breath
She knew that she wasn’t far from death
She shouldn’t have rejected me
That’s clear for her to see.

Once I had finished I did not feel tired.
I pulled out a gun and just fuckin’ fired.

She lay there motionless
As I began to flee
I felt no shame
Maybe even some glee.

I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was caught
I was willing to pay
I didn’t see any other option to sleep with her
That was the only way.

I was caught running a block or two from her house.
I didn’t know where to run.
I knew I had to do something
‘Ah yes’ I still had my gun.

I whipped it out and opened fire
My punishment would be more than dyer.
I killed maybe two or three
Then got pinned up by a tree.

The officer was obviously new
He didn’t know how to tread.
He called me a sick pervert
Then shot me in the head…

June 09’

Perfect Paradise

Perfect Paradise

Endless golden sand
Pressed warm beneath my feet
Cool wind blowing off the sea
Is a lovely added treat

Snorkelling down the crystal clear ocean
Astounding shades of blue
Fishes bask all multi-coloured
The term ‘paradise’ is true

A water snake swims into sight
Majestic in its ways
Black and white patterns dance
I could stay and watch all day

I break the surface to catch my breath
Can’t wait to go back down
I submerge again and the snake is gone
I gave a little frown

An hour had passed, I returned to land
I felt that it was best
I was getting tired from all that swimming
I should really have a rest

I clumber upon my warm deck chair
And pop on my sun shades
I recline the chair so it’s laying flat
“Man, I got it made!”

Hours had passed as I sat up straight
The sun was starting to set
Pinks and purples and even some red
I’m not ready to go yet

The time had come to go back home
Much to my dismay
Time to go and face reality
I’m glad I got away.

Dec 10’

F*ck Friendship

Fuck Friendship

I can honestly say
With a smile on my face
I want to kill you
And I won’t leave a trace

I guess you’ll want to know why
You didn’t think I knew
I cannot fucking believe
I came and cried to you

You knew how beat I was
How much I was a wreck
You completely abused that
You will hit the deck

I don’t know why you chose her
From all the slags you meet
You choose to pursue the one knew
And ask for her to cheat

Not just to get with
Like she’s a stranger in the crowd
She was my fucking girlfriend man
I used to call you a friend, and be proud

Not now, you’ve blown it
It wasn’t just this one time
The more I look into this
You’ve got a mountain to climb

You lied to my fucking face
You told me it wasn’t true
You don’t know what you’ve done
You got no fuckin clue

I can put on a smile for now
Even act like it didn’t take place
But I’ll never forget to get you
I’ll ruin your beautiful face

Our ten years of being best mates
Has all gone to shit
Fuck this fucking friendship
Won’t miss it one bit.

Winters Kiss

Winters Kiss – 17/06/2010

Purple haze of sunset
Mixed with shades of red
The sun is setting by the lake
I stroke and kiss your head

This winter’s been so perfect
Constant joy and romance
Walking through white painted woods
Snowflakes whisper and dance

Feeling tingles of coldness
As I scrape together snow
Rolling it up into a ball
Cheeks a perfect glow

Chasing after me for getting you
We fall down in a heap
Rolling around, it didn’t hurt
The snow was just that deep.

We lay there in ecstasy forever
Looking at each other with bliss
You leant in and closed your eyes
That perfect winters kiss.

Crash

Crash

Crash! Smash!
Spinning around
Whack! Crack!
A terrible sound

Screeching brakes
Scratching of metal
A four car pile up
The wreckage has settled

Muffled sounds
And distorted voices
So much commotion
From stupid choices

People running over
I can’t hear a thing
I look to the driver
She’s not moving

Why didn’t I drive?
She said she was fine
I knew she was tired
“Look, I’m driving, don’t whine!”


It wasn’t just our fault
The surface was wet
We saw a car skid
Destiny was set

We were destined to collide
Death was there at the scene
He was rubbing his hands
At this poor dead late-teen

She lay there so still
It was clear she was dead
Lying back-bent, so awkward
Blood stained hair down her head

I was taken to hospital
In the early hours of day
Lights were fading
Fading to grey

Parents at my side
I’m staring at them weep
My eyes closing slowly
I’m falling to sleep…

11th Feb 2011

Martin's Bridge

There is a bridge in Davidson, Wisconsin. The name of the bridge is ‘Martin’s Bridge’. The bridge is named after the man who built the bridge, Robert Martin. Martin’s Bridge isn’t much of a bridge, just a series of two by fours in a row, connected with metal links, and then two metal chains about three feet above that for support. Robert Martin built the bridge so that the workers of Martin Quarry could easily get across.

One night, when the quarry first opened, there was a horrible storm. Robert Martin being the leader he was he made sure that everyone got to safety before he did. Robert Martin was getting the last group across when the bridge started shaking.

“What’s going on?” one of the workers asked.

“It must be the wind.” yelled Robert Martin. “Hurry up!”

The shaking became more and more violent. The last worker got across in time to turn around to see Robert Martin go over the chains and into the quarry below.

The others saw this too and proceeded to run to their cars.

“What are you doing? Did you not see what just happened to Mr. Martin? We need to go help him.” The last worker across the bridge yelled.

“It is a 75 feet drop. No one can survive that. The storm is getting worse. I am going to safety, it’s not like he is going any where. We will come back in the morning when the storm is over.” The first worker across said.

The last guy across realized he was right and ran to safety with the others.

The next morning when the storm let up everyone was talking about Robert Martin’s death. ‘What a tragedy’ everyone said. ‘What a horrible accident’ the newspaper said. ‘Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy” the television said.

It didn’t take long after Robert Martin’s death that Martin’s Quarry closed. It was a good business; it was the workers who really closed it. No body wanted to take over his shoes as boss. Some workers didn’t think it was right to go on without him. Some workers were just plain too scared to go back, afraid they were next.

Over time the quarry filled with rain water and people went swimming in it. They planted trees and turned it into a reserve/park. People had forgotten about Robert Martin and his tragic death that night. It was time to remind them.

It was a summer night almost ten years later. A Boy Scout troop was camping out in the park. They had spent the day swimming and playing on the bridge. That night they built a camp fire and sang songs. After the troop leaders went to bed, the boys snuck away to play on the bridge.

“It was a dark, stormy night. Robert Martin was just helping his men to safety when all of a sudden the bridge started shaking uncontrollably. AND HE FELL TO HIS DEATH!” said one Boy Scout in the middle of the bridge with a flash light on his face.

When he started talking about the bridge shaking the bridge actually started to shake.

“Stop It!” said another Boy Scout who was standing with the boy with the flash light in the middle of the bridge.

He turned and was turning in circles to see two boys on both ends moving the bridge.

I imagine Robert Martin loves that he has become nothing more than a folk tale.

“Relax, we were just joking around.” said the Boy Scout with the flash light.

“Yeah everyone knows he jumped.” yelled one of the boys on the side of the bridge.

I am sure the hero Robert Martin loved that comment even more.

It was time to make my move. They are vulnerable.

The bridge started to shake..

“Guys come on we scared him already.” said the boy with the flash light.

“It’s not us!” yelled all four boys on the side.

They were just standing there scared.

The two boys on the bridge tried to run to safety, but the shaking only got worse and they too were flown from the bridge into the dark quarry below.

Another tragic accident has occurred.

Over the years another 37 people have falling victim to the bridge in the past 25 years. Not any more are they seen as accidents.

Rumors spread that it was a jealous relative of Robert Martin. But their wasn’t any family. Some said that a deranged- psycho path from the mental institute in Two Rivers. But no one was reported missing. Others say that it was a series of passer bys who did it. It couldn’t be one of their neighbors. Then others said it was the faulty construction of the bridge that was to blame. Still others said it was 40 tragic accidents. A rumor got started that it was a cursed bridge. Their was always the few who wouldn’t say one way or the other.

“Come on, scared of the big, bad bridge?” a teenage girl asked walking through the woods to Martin’s Bridge.

“Of course not it’s just a bridge. My leg is starting to cramp, that’s all.” said the second teenage girl trying to catch up to the first.

You should be scared of the big, bad bridge.

“You want her to win the bet?” asked the first teenage girl.

“No” said the second teenage girl.

“Me neither. I don’t want high school to start off like that.” The first teenage girl said. “So let’s go to the middle of the bridge, take the picture and go home.”

“Yeah, this park gives me the creeps.” The second girl said and they started walking again.

Under a full moon, in the middle of the night number 41 and 42 walked on to me and with the flash of their camera I started shaking.

No one can stand the shaking of Martin’s Bridge.

Two weeks after those two girls death they cut me down to lay forever at the bottom of the quarry. They weren’t going to loose any more people. I like it down here with all of my special friends.

Don't Look At Me Mommy

Don't look at me mommy
I have done something bad
But I am sorry for that
Don't look at me mommy
I have done something bad
But I think I am sorry
Don't look at me mommy
I have done something bad
But I am not sorry
Don't look at me mommy
I can't change the past
And you can't help me
Don't look at me mommy
I can't take this any more
Please don't chase me

Lies, Lies, Lies

I cleaned my room
Lies, Lies, Lies
I took the trash out
Lies, Lies, Lies
I did all my homework
Lies, Lies, Lies
I am going to a study group
Lies, Lies, Lies
It is just going to be a couple of people
Lies, Lies, Lies
The parents will be there
Lies, Lies, Lies
There won't be any alcohol
Lies, Lies, Lies
I am fine
Lies, Lies, Lies

The Little Pill

The Little Pill
Is glancing at me
The Little Pill
Is looking at me
The Little Pill
Is staring at me
The Little Pill
Is mocking me
The Little Pill
Is alone with me

Swimming To You

I would swim across a puddle
I would swim across a stream
I would swim across a creek
I would swim across a lake
I would swim a whole river
I would swim the English channel
I would swim across an ocean
I would swim anything
Just to be with you

Walking By

From sun rise to set
I see people walking by
Some ignore more
Some stare and leave
Some call me lazy
And keep walking
Some use me as an example
to their kids
'If you act stupid
You will end up like him'
Some say don't stare
Some act like they can catch it
Then once and a while
Someone stops with food
They leave it
No questions asked
Their are many people
In this world
And they all seem to walk by

Damn that Facebook

Damn that Facebook for knowing everything
Damn that Facebook for always speaking the truth
Damn that Facebook for always having a camera
Damn that Facebook for the constant reminders
Damn that Facebook for telling me that I lost you!

Right Now

Right Now I am Fucking Cold
Right Now I am Fucking Hungry
Right Now I am Fucking Tired
Right Now I am Fucking Dirty
Right Now I am Fucking Sick
Right Now I am Fucking Everything Up!

My Scars Tell The Story Of My Life

There are many scars on this body of mine:
There is a one inch scar on my forehead
Where my dad bumped me with a pool stick
There is a half inch scar in the middle of my left arm
Where I broke my arm on the trampoline
There is a scar on my right shoulder
Where I hit the diving board
There is a scar at the bottom of my left foot
Where I stepped on a rusted nail
There is a burn scar on my right hand
Where my sister put a curling iron
There are scars on my torso
Where I was in a car wreck
But there is a smooth patch of skin right above my heart
For that is yours for the taking

Car Accident

I will never forget that night
One red light
I never saw it coming
Smash, Crash, Mash, Bash
The car flipped Over, Over, and Over again
Top was bottom, bottom was top
I will never be the same
The surgeries kept me living
I got a new car
But the scars won't let me forget
The accident that changed everything

Today Could Be The Day

Every morning I think that today is the day
The day that my life just suddenly clicks
That I remember who I am
That I remember where I came from
That I remember all of my friends
That I remember the inside jokes
That I remember all those trips we took
That I remember how to be me
And the day I remember how to be
The man you want me to be!

I Write For

I write for the person
Who can always make me laugh
I write for the person
Who is always there for me
I write for the person
Who I can just chill with
I write for the person
Who makes me think
I write for the person
Who believes in me
I write for the person
Who strives me to be better

Human Nature

I am trapped in a body
That isn't mine.
I have a face
That I don't recognize.
I was given a name
That I wouldn't have chosen.
I have a voice
That I can't understand.
I suppose everyone is like this
It is just human nature.

My Box

This is my box
I found it
It is mine
This is my box
Keeps me dry
Blocks the wind
This is my box
It is where I sleep
And hides me
This is my box
It isn't much
But its mine

The Streets

I thought we were having Global Warming
I wish I had more cloths
I am tired of hearing my tummy rumble
I should have packed more sandwiches
I am dirty, tired, and scared
I should have stayed where I was
No not me
I don't listen to reason
I can't do it on my own
I have made lots of mistakes
I will probably make many more
I live on the streets

Over There

Over there is really hot
Over there the food is crap
Over there time stand still
Over there all you hear is guns
Over there is really sandy
Over there thousands don't come back
Over there is nothing like here
Gosh I am glad I am no longer
Over There
But if my country asked me once more
I would go 'Sir Yes Sir'

We Were Czech

Their was a time when we were Czech
We were small but very proud
Nothing major was invented here
It isn't Einstein's birth place
But we have goulash and Franz Kafka
And hell that's more than most
We were simple laid back people
That stuck to what we know
No one would argue that our beer is number one
Over time we some how lost what made us Czech
We now speak another language
Listen to other country's music
And have stopped producing our own works

Their was a time when we were Czech
And we said it with a smile on our face
We had names no one but us could pronounce
A castle for a city
No hero's welcome for us
We worked for everything we had
Beauty was outside every window
Franz Ferdinand was in owe
But all this has long since lost
Though I know not forever
For I still say it with a smile on my face
And their is a chamber in our hearts just for pride
Their can be a time when we are Czech again