Dilemmica

(to Everclear's "Santa Monica")

I hate this yoga and this
Pose
Bending and twisting
I can’t reach toes
I don’t think this move can
Help spine
I don’t think this move’s
Completely sane

Had some big bland fruit
And some no-taste shakes
I do believe they’re made with the silt from lakes
I just want to be a
Fit guy
I don’t need to run a
5K race, what a bore

I just want to eat some
Ice cream
When I try, I find
My butt grows with ease

So I drink the rancid potions
Exercise behind
Life coach on retainer
Wish I had pie

So I keep my legs in motion
Simple life denied
No more mashed potatoes
Wish I had wine

So now I’m running here in
Place
More like a waddle, though gaining speed
Can’t get away
Who the hell said this is
Good time?
I just want to eat some
Crunch and Munch and a Smore

I have no doubt
That there’s another way
Not liposuction or de Sade pain play
I don’t want to be the
Fat guy
I just want to do a
Jumping jack then the door

I don’t need to be Joe
Sunshine
I would rather surf some
Cool sites on Google Chrome

I don’t have the drive, devotion
Lack the fire inside
Best with sleeve of crackers
Bag of pork rinds

But I’ll put my bod in motion
Leave the snacks behind
When I talk to waiter
Ask for less fries

Yeah ask for less fries
Yeah ask for less fries
Yeah ask for less fries
Then ask for more pie

At Fifty-Three

(to Janis Ian's "At Seventeen")

I now arrive at fifty-three
An age I thought I’d never see
A life it whirls in light speed style
You blink and find the years have wiled

The beard I have has roots of gray

Like weeds in lawn, find more each day
Some dye perhaps might fix the look
But cash is best spent buying books

And those exams at doctor’s places
Prodding in unholy places
Bills to pay, maintain the home
Annoying robots ring the phone
They call to say come buy from me
They sell such swell amenities
Not really what I need
At fifty-three

My brown eyed wife, she loves me now
Though why she does, it still confounds
I’m not an easy man to know
My moody self, the highs and lows

And the loud and rocking concert scene
Replaced it with a calmer thing
The avant-garde I love it still
Preferred at lower decibels

Now were there times when I was sane
Just a Joe with scraggly mane?
I don’t recall the sanity
I have retained humanity
My mom and dad they taught me true
Now odd surprise I’ve made it to
Bifocalled days of me
At fifty-three

The creaks and pops, the random pain
But all-in-all I can’t complain
Adult I am, mature not quite
My mind will wander off at night

I will oft reflect and drift away
Synapses fire and cells will play
I know far less than I believe
The world is larger than it seems

I now write some words in favorite chair
I’ll gripe and grin, let down my hair
Inventing stories, phrases flow
Revealing worries, worlds unknown
Some tales are bad, some tales are neat
I call them my amenities
The changing world I see
At fifty-three

Shame

(to David Bowie's "Fame")

Shame (shame)
Whips the wind, takes things over
Shame (shame)
Words let loose, full on throttle
Shame (shame)
Shout it out, “They’re not model”
Shame

Shame
Expose the vain
And light the flame
And hope for change to make someone
Tame

Shame (shame)
Is it right to be ungentle?
Shame (shame)
Is this raging transcendental?
Shame (shame)
Is there need to be parental?
Shame

Shame
Nine to five
A choice to chide
So get in line to rage at the
Slime

(Who can pass the test
who can pass?
To a ‘t’, to a ‘t’?
To agree with flame
Holy aim
Simple game
Easy maim)

See a silly blunder
Let’s assess the mess
Shame, shame, shame, shame
Who believes in thunder
To try and cool the fool?
Shame

Shame
Bully is who?
Bully are we?
Got to punch, inflict lots of
Pain
Shame

Shame

Delayed Again, Naturally

(to Gilbert O'Sullivan's 'Alone Again, Naturally')

It’s a little late this hour
And I sit feeling just a tad dour
I’m telling myself
It’s fine, dear self
At least I got laptop power

My trav’lin’s come to stop
I hear the gate talk
“We are sorry to
Now report to you
That your scheduled plane
Has not landed”

For ‘nother flight I search
For a berth
But they’re all saying
“Oh well, that’s tough
You’re out of luck.
No seats on board remaining.”
I’ll wait to fly on home
Guess I’ll charge up my phone

Delayed again, naturally

I think that I’ll be on my way
Maybe April, could me May
Saw fam’ly who
Look somber too
The kids are all too tired to play

Though the trip may knock me down
A lager beer brings me round
So I’ve parked my butt
Near the bar nuts
And there ain’t no cashew pieces

Maybe I should pout
But I doubt
Look brings me mercy
So I’ll just slowly take a sip
Order ham and turkey
Take an hour to feed
I’ll buy a book to read

Delayed again, naturally

It seems to me
I’m spending more time
Waiting at a gate
That’s unattended
A trip upended
Not leaving soon
Not leaving soon

Delayed again, naturally

I’m thinking
While watching the time
It’s a nuisance
But I’ll survive
I remember my life
And my lovely wife
And I’m dreaming when I’ll arrive

Now it’s fifty-eight past nine
I should’ve been gone by five
But I understand
Flight is gonna land
I’ll be boarding soon
No need hatin’

Sit here by the gate
And it’s late
I could be mopin’
But no, a song appears to me
Some words for this here postin’
My hands now type away
The rhymes you read today

Delayed again, naturally
Delayed again, naturally

The Adobe Flash Song

(to "Oscar Meyer" song)

My player has a first name
It's A-D-O-B-E
My player has a second name
It's F-L-A-S-H

I have to upgrade every day
I hope they fix it, why you say?

Cos' silly player has a way
Of crashing Firefox when played.

We Are The Smart In Texas

(to "Deep in the Heart of Texas")

We’re sage and bright

And oh so right

We are the smart in Texas

We all look fly

With weapons high

We like our guns in Texas

The gays we’ll prune

And fix them soon

They aren’t our type in Texas

We think our gov

Should cure their love

You should be straight in Texas

Those science guys

Are none too wise

We change the facts in Texas

So school book texts

Will be an-nexed

We love our kids in Texas

See the felons wail

Inside our jail

You will be caught in Texas

Let’s kill them all

Then shop in mall

We keep it light in Texas.

(Note: This by no means reflects the heart and soul of many thoughtful Texans. It only speaks to the conservatives who want to take Texas back to the 19th century.)

Rocky Mountain High

(to John Denver's "Rocky Mountain High")

They all swarmed in one autumn
To their polling stations near
Votin’ yes for a taste they once had known before

They see best of days ahead now
You might say they’re now born again
You might say they’ve found the highlife way, for sure

In the new year on the mountain
White mists did coat the day
Wispy clouds were seepin’ from the bongs

And the crowd’s already floatin’
Sporting really happy stares
They get hungry fast and snacks don’t last too long

Got a Colorado Rocky Mountain high
They’re singin’ Grateful Dead at the sky
Less cal’ries than a Bud Light
And better than an apple pie

Rocky Mountain high
(want a taco)
Rocky Mountain high
(High in Colorado)

This here’s no token mountain
They see growing cash ahead
They plan lots of things to make themselves a name

And it seems the Bronco football team
Said so long to orange and blue
Now it’s green and brown, they’re called the Mary Janes

Now we’ve known for while it’s thing to use
Frees patients from their pain
Seeking grace in every puff they take

Some folks say helps them seek God out
Well, I can understand
A divinity in a calm, new altered state.

It’s a Colorado Rocky Mountain high
I’m seein’ saucers black in their eyes
Some’ll stare for hour or two
To watch the clouds go by

Rocky Mountain high
(not tobacco)
Rocky Mountain high
(fly in Colorado)
Rocky Mountain high
(high in Colorado)

Now the Pink Floyd and the hunger
Are not heart of smoky cheer
It’s the nature thing some cannot comprehend

So they say that weed’s the gateway drug
And brings want for harder score
Let’s drink to that, buy another round.

Here in Colorado, Rocky Mountain’s high
We’re seein’ more of tye and the dye
With (all) this talk I’m a hungry man
Can you serve me up a ham on rye?
Rocky Mountain high

It’s-a sayonara, off to mountain, bye
Old laws were simply tired and confined
Spendin’ day at work wired
Can make a body cry

Rocky Mountain high
(glide in Colorado)
Rocky Mountain high
(pass that avocado)
Rocky Mountain high
(here’s more ostinato)
Rocky Mountain high
(goes with my gazpacho)

Smells Like New Year

(to Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit")
 
My Christmas tree
Standing there
The needles loose
And everywhere
I miss the lights
And bulbs galore
I sadly haul it
Out the door

So long, so long, so long, so long, all gone
All gone, all gone, all gone, all gone, Jan one
Jan one, Jan one, Jan one, Jan one, been fun
Been fun, been fun, been fun, been fun

To the tree I’m
Quite allergic
Wipe the floor down
With detergent
I was happy
I was content
But I wonder
Where the year went

Did we have snow?
Did the lights glow?
What do I know?
Ipso facto
Yeah…

I reflect on
Holidays
A ham sandwich
With mayonnaise
Gifts underneath
The branches green
Reminds me of
A Rockwell scene

He drew, he drew, he drew, he drew, adieu
Adieu, adieu, adieu, adieu, to you
To you, to you, to you, you, et tu.
Et tu, et tu, et tu, et tu

And the new year
Seems so spacious
And the first days
Are the strangest
No, we can’t see
What awaits us
I just hope I’ll
Be more gracious

What I’m eating
Where I’m singing
No more speeding
And more reading
Yay…

I’ll minimize
All of the haste
I know, it’s hard
It takes a while
Three hundred days
And sixty-five
I hope this year
To stay alive

Survive, survive, survive, survive, oh my
Oh my, oh my, oh my, oh my, will I
Will I, will I, will I, will I, get by
Get by, get by, get by, get by

As I clean up
All the past cheer
I’m reminded
Of the frontier
I shall go forth
And show no fear
And go boldly
Through the new year

No complaining
Do some painting
Entertaining
What’s remaining?
Yay…

Coast in View

(to the Psychedelic Furs "Ghost in You")

A car in your lane honks at light
And on the screen are bits and bytes
The sirens seeping through
It’s a typical day

Chairs may feel like chains
You'll run, run, run
To have a weekend away

In time you
Will make move
And all this fades
With coast in view
Cards well played
In rear view
Your old you
A spec of gray

A race of one you take in stride
The running shoes are worn and dried
No dust accrues on you
No children at play

Rain falls down at two
And sun, sun, sun
You see clouds in the way

Skies chide you
Subdued you
But you can trade
With coast in view
You’re okay
Inside you
Your child queued
Can she come play?

When we’re old it makes no sense
Our lives are filled with supplements
Just simplify the time
Just give it a way

Wade in just the same
And waves, waves, waves
Will slowly sweep you away

The world view
Can chew through
And make you slave
With coast in view
Smile and wave
It’s not new
The sand dunes
Can be reclaimed
The coast in you
It won’t fade.

Showed Us Their Rear Ends

(to Todd Rundgren's "Can We Still Be Friends")

When they shut down
Place they abhor, they
Showed us their rear ends
Sweet tea egos
Stomped feet on floor and
Showed us their rear ends

They made country
Go blind
With the light
From their bright behinds
Thought it grand
Lovely shine
Then when it blew up
Press time

Won’t admit they
Made big mistakes when
Showed us their rear ends
Right whine with the
Sourest grapes, it
Showed us their rear ends

Moons a-full
Cheek to spare
Cracking words
With a puff of air
Here’s high five
For their work
Glutes not imbued
With clever.

(showed us their rear ends)
Will you please hide your nethers next time?
(showed us their rear ends)
Still each night they shine moon on and on and on

When they plot
Their next scheme
Hope to God
They wear slacks or jeans
History
Won’t be fond
Hope this is
Their seat swan song.

Southern Drawl Rhyme Man

(to Glen Campbell "Wichita Lineman")

I am a rhyme man, none too rowdy

From a south town zip code

Looking for a pun

In a world of overload

I move my wording through the wire

Twist some songs which most enshrine

I’m the southern drawl rhyme man

Whose insights will rhyme

To some, I’m seeking adoration

Guess I might seem quite vain

But I write rhymes to songs I like

They help my brain stay sane...

Words will free you

When world haunts you

If they don’t then world confines

I’m the southern drawl rhyme man

Who writes in spare time

If you have view

Won’t you find tune

And then write words when you’ve time

And some rhyme enthralled rhyme fan

May think you sublime.

Know Ye the Yogi?

(to Roy Orbison's "Only the Lonely")

Ohmmm ohmmm ohmmm

Life is a park

Fine day, yay, yah, yeah

Booboobooboo wah

Know ye the Yogi?

Know ye the Yogi?

Leads the way to truth tonight

Know ye the Yogi

Knows that stealin’ ain’t right

He seems so saintly

Seems pure of heart

He’s always happy

Lives à la carte

Let’s follow the Yogi

He’s spry

Our guy

Here be the Yogi

Yum yum yum

Life in a park

All day yay yay yeah

Booboobooboo wah

Hungry the Yogi

Hungry the Yogi

Finds a basket, brightens moods

Hungry the Yogi

Appetite is ripe for food

Bears never borrow

From camper’s camps

There’ll be sorrow

Food has no chance

Make no mistake

It’s his Jellystone take

Hungry is Yogi

Yum yum yum

Life in a park

Pon Far

(to the Beatles' "Hey Jude")

Pon far
I got it bad
It’s a sad song
Hope it gets better

Year seven
Ain’t heaven here in my heart
Wish it would part
Would make things better

Pon far
Makes folks afraid
If you bring soup
It makes me angered

I’ll fling it
The bowl will zoom at your head
If it were bread
It might be safer

And every time I feel the pain
Pon far’s
Insane
I long for the heat of home called Vulcan

Till then my loins will never cool
Pon far
Will rule
Stay clear and be safe while I am copin’

Pon far
Please beam me down
Warmy weather
Won’t need no sweater

I’m tethered
To lady, sans a good heart
She wants no part
She likely loves leather

I’ll fight it out with Cap’n Jim
And he
Won’t win
Some maiming for someone I have worked with

I did not know that doc would do
Some med
Kung fu
And suddenly fight is quickly over

Pon far
It makes me sad
All the mad things
They make me wonder

If maybe,
The urge to mate would be oft
Wouldn’t be cross
I’d like that better, better, better, better, oh…..

Harmonica

(to Elvis Costello's "Veronica")

On a farm near the city limits south of town

Bart had skill, played the blues with a harp

And he gave it all he had

And you might have sworn

He could shake the tectonica

Well he liked to use a sixteen hole for the crowds

For intensity, riffs they would fly

He played, so he said,

With the finest reeds

Said they’re made with bronzonica

He played in shows,

Bar mitzvah bands,

On stage harmonica

His will imposed

And all the girls

Stood on their toes

They weeped and danced

And cried for more

Harmonica

Harmonica

Harmonica

Well, the fame rose high

And an album came

And he toured down the coast through the fall

Yes, he lived quite the dream

And no more was he poor

Living large, was divine-ica

Well, on the road for ninety-nine days he played

Losing friends to the world he had found

While the fans all cheered

You could see on his face

That he longed for some calmica

On the tour bus in Florida

The lad, he had a dream about the path
And saw a fork in road for him to choose

A note, so soft, grew loud and then…

He quickly rose

His sweating skin

He eyed harmonica

There by his side

And knew the time

To end the shows           

His dance with fame

Had come to close

Harmonica

Harmonica

Harmonica

Harmonica waits by his favorite chair

Bart smiles in the quiet and still

And he thinks of the fame

That had never seemed right

But when he plays

He remembers that thrill

Now he likes to have his closest friends at his home

They don’t dwell on the things of the past

Having fun with tunes, his notes’ll break the night

And they’ll shake the tectonica

Though fame arose

With clapping hands

The gift harmonica

Was lovely ride

Now quiet time

Is life he chose

He sits with friends

And keeps them close

Harmonica

Harmonica

Harmonica