I’m a lonely kind of poet
And that’s good by me
Singer and songwriting
Leaves me with a fright
Some kind atmosphere
Tenderness blithe
That’s social tonight.
I hope that you leave me again,
Leave me here to fall into me:
Mine then left on an empty table
Water stains here my heart.
I’m not very far
Just a shining star
A beat sent to the night
Half past what was good
Turned into three songs
I’m not shuffling on
Freight train of my night
Slow song keeps following me
Down another lonely street
Not far to get
Thoughts of home
My weary knees,
Shining star and not very far
Sing me songs I wont forget
And carry me another beat
I’m shuffling on.
When a lonely mountain calls her name,
When a red sun sets,
A lake, my heart, listens intent;
A loon calls out for twilight.
And her name is here again
Amidst pines that run the shore,
Where slowly her lines
Run though my head
Slow memories drawn out into the lake
(A canoe silently passes by
As darkness settling in)
To warn me of my heavy eyes
And heart amidst the peaks
Where I shall watch again, tomorrow,
For a sun to lead the way.
Wished I was a saint
Took my cane with me to work
Held on to a weathered hand
Was caught out in the rain
Left a symbol in the earth
Growth that clouded all designs
Held on to a weathered hand
Ate my heart out in the sun
Giving to little was my lonely grave
Lest beggars break in to settle my nerves
Held on to a weathered hand
There I lay saddened by time
Lonely moon and my heart. Do you ever wonder where to start? So I dip my toes and fix my tie and pretend that my head’s held high because then there’ll be a judging man waiting for a hand to feed a plan and I’m begging with open arms and eyes a gazing for the sweet blossom of my year.
I travel to lonely points of inactivity;
Challenge even the iron hearts,
Let my fruit fall all about me here
And lose my heart to a beating drum.
I crawl down to the setting sun;
Steep slope and I’m bleeding mom,
Hands gnarled, so let me gently down
Back to my cold and lonely ground.
I’ve swept out the tangled mess;
Chilling webs of my sweet duress,
If an Angel should come right now
Pull my arrow to shoot her down.
Left my heart up in the mountains
I’ll need a shovel to get it back
One too many lonely days
Without a warm gunnysack.
Had a song bird on my deck
Whistling a tune I’d never heard
Sent for a fine six string guitar
Came back with an ol’ banjo.
Went off in the meadow with my lover
She had on a little backpack
Got stuck in a swamp with little booties on
Came out with her bare feet black.
Oh, troubles around every corner
Whether you’re looking back or not
Creek still runs, dog still laps
And I’ve gone back to my lonely shack.
This is the song I’ve never sung,
A lonely tree in the meadow
My faith watching it snow.
Because something isn’t clearing my fog,
And I’ve done up my boots too tight,
And the bridge is falling to it’s knees,
And some will cry as I’m walking on by.
But count out blessings in a well worn palm
With two bluejays resting a while,
Strange mountains silence is broken
And darkness slowly lifts as awareness shifts
Back into what I’ve never left.
I am a lonely gambler
I’ve got chips in every pocket
Two cards up my sleeves
But with all my kings and aces
I’ve got no one on my mind
I visit all the dark rooms
All known enemies of state
Keep me company into the night
But with all my kings and aces
I’ve got no one on my mind
The rounds at half past midnight
Two cigarettes in my hand
I’ve been the gambler, I’ve been the loser
But with all my kings and aces
I’ve got no one on my mind
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We all shake our gates to the sound of riddled irons
Ricocheting off midnight streets in lonely battle cries.
We dress formal, we provide answers,
We lose sight of retail for a better lease on life.
We do this. We pound our own hammer
With all our might, until fatal the blow
Or sharp the edge.
