The Book is Almost Done

I've been writing writing writing poems and songs, but what I've forgot

to mention to you and the world and myself is that a story lay complete

missing pictures and pages, but awaits

for me to give to you

A self important, ego centric book about the nuances of my mind

that I cannot control 

that which others had a hold

a story will be told

to many ones a dismay

It's Christmas 2008 and almost 4 years to the day the book was started.

February 2005

If you can remember you already can surmise.

See the thing is that all of a sudden I know it's time

and as far as memoirs go many will be exposed

So now it's time for me to decide

which path I'm going to take hide members names and band names

though it will all be known anyway

might as well be true to the names

and instead of point fingers, take most of the blame.

This I know to be politically correct if I want to save my face

And it scares me to know that exposure might not be in good faith

at least what some might have to say about my name.

it's scary however true to the game

The book is almost done.

I just have to decide, and then perhaps edit, add, and rewrite.

And then off we go.  On with the show....

I guess I just wanted you to know....

I Don't This It's Very Cool....

Lime lips sucking on tasty suckers, bought up at the Chinese dollar tree
long arm picking up the telephone he's going to be late for dinner again
while you pop your pills and drink your tea, this was all your idea remember?
He does not let you forget.

oh trust me I think the family is happy
overall you got what you always wanted
but was it all just for show?

It's hard to imagine that there is any love involved.
Like mom and dad who married for love
did you do it for convenience?
And when it doesn't work out, it's too late now
you gotta stay together.
or do you?

So contrived these things these labels these formats
I can't imagine what you like about it
I can't imagine why you think I should curtail to you
when you don't love it, although you try to be it
for some reason I just don't believe it
It's only you who thinks the
world should bow to you. because you did what you were supposed to do
well, I don't think it's very cool.
I don't think it makes you happy or true
but just a sheeplike follower who must now live with their choices.

Little Mod Plaid Jackets

Stuffing your pockets little girl, like fair skinned super model
and little dotted dresses stuffed with candies your tresses
soft and straight
or long and wavy, like little mod plaid jackets with the belt around the waist

Today, I will shop shop till I drop
Bored of these mental illness documentation papers papers everywhere
and my coffee gets cold so fast in the morning. so it seems
but really the time just flies in the arctic breeze
in these motorcycle boots which are more like those found in Ireland
or Sweden somewhere northern cold and green. to walk on the rolling hills
and wet marshes.

And with that sadness and nothing else to say
loneliness and left aloneness, and having my own spaceness

Out in the Air

So you are concerned about the things I write
And you think it's about you... Well, maybe it is.
But, quite unlikely

In this day and age of slaving away behind computer desks
strapped to your ergonomic chair I publish my thoughts for the world to see
it's cryptic messages now worry you which in turn worry me

So much is at stake here, and I have to be concerned
I just don't like you reading into what I have to say
I am not that passive aggressive as you try to make me out to be
Look here lady, you'd know if it was about you
Trust me when I say, it's all about me

Censorship is not my forte'
but do I have to explain everything I say
confront me if you may

Now I know, and see what he says
If you've got something on your mind say it right away
so I can defend myself today
Not tomorrow, next year or yesterday
But in the moment, let it pass
Open and out in the air

The Voyeur

You think no one is watching you as you sip your juice
you flip your hair
toss off your slippers
no one hears you as you whisper
so you say so you think

but on the other side of your window
lies a peeping tom in wake
lying in your wake a peeping tom awaits

for you to shake a tail feather
slide off your bustier
and your panties off your derriere
or just to see you walking around
like you do
talking, twirling, dancing singing
oh trust me
he is listening

He's got weird fetishes
a list of them, he'd like for you to do
in his bedroom
with you and he alone

But the voyeur is a sad and empty soul
no courage or nerve hits him ten fold
he'll sit alone and pretend
worship you from afar

and one day maybe he'll get lucky
and the ehxibitionist will steal the show

To Be Sad Today

tumbling tumblewood drifting off like tea should
i always assumed I would want to
be surrounded by people today
And even just yesterday I even worried I'd be sad today
and that was just an expectation I had
and you know I could have made that choice
To be Sad today
but it didn't happen
because I realized I don't care as much as I thought I might
as I expected I would
and had fun today with my little party
no expectations no party dress
We even drank mimosas
and I didn't even wash my hair
I'd have to say it was a perfect day

Last night's atrocities

I don't care about last night's atrocities
I am not worried about the lack there of finding the right pawns
I know this is all part of a larger manifestation
that is bigger than what I have ever known

I am not being brought down by the limited minds
I am not even bothered that I have no friends in the fields of the boxing ring
I don't even notice it anymore
There is a lot of testing going on and I have to continue to believe
which isn't hard, cuz I already believe. I already know.

I already know and believe. It becomes clearer everyday.

Now The Real Work Begins

There are no surprises although I am quite excited they like the music
Love the heavy heavy drawls of the day
the week, began empty then continued all the way. It was the 4th time in one week
he came around, all of a sudden it's all abound.
and I'm surprised and amazed but not really
now the real work begins.

And my world of work. About to get crazy and hectic. And I can't help but see
the patterns repeating themselves. but I'm excited none-the-less.
now the real work begins. plans get under way.
in about 3 months time, we wanna get out and play.

The Events of the Day

He tells her he likes her patent leather booties
the way she pops her heels and releases her ankls
his fetish has got me thinking....

My day was colored by the sense of selling out
this artist way of life
empty hours in the day, are they going to soon be filled?
sometimes hard work sounds more appealing
but I don't want to wear a blouse from the department store
nor some slacks that need hemming

I'm hopeful in other terms of what tonight may bring
but disappointment is all to quick to rear it
s funny head.
when it rains it pours and maybe thats what the horse needs
a kick into second gear
the word out to the universe that says
oh she's busy now, now she doesn't have time let's feed her steak
or it could be the other way around and the kitchen will fizzle out
no steak, not even fries, but just the swish swish shwish of driving to work
in the rain. doldrum days in the rain.

sucking down fast food, it's definitely not what I usually do
and once in a while too, I'll definitely drink a red bull.
i'm excited to see what happens this eve
but know i'm not the only deciding factor, if it were up to me...
hell cherry lips woulda stayed, or bill blass would have stayed and we'd be on long on our way...
these things just don't happen over night, and by the time we find one another
someone else has to leave.

I'm so used to it by now, it's not even funny, but still get excited cuz there is new eneergy in the air, and each person brings a new smell.

I just wanna go to sleep/

Energy dry cuz I am always working my fingers to the bone,
even when relaxing I don't
my days are long and keep going strong
i like this lifestyle but feel it's boredom seeping in
i like this lifestyle but haven't written a god damn thing
maybe it's time to start readin agin...

i definitely like the winter nights
sipping coffee and type type typing
the words don't matter its just the tactile
sense of the click click clicking of my finger on the computer keyboards
cuz i don't really have anything that deep to say
Im really so superficial and empty and empty and empty

i like the idea of being a sex psychologist or writing a literary masterpiece
of being an academic book worm, and writing a musical medley
i like the idea of fashion, finger less gloves and tall black boots, leatherette
i like the artist tortured broke and hungry
but I have nothing to create, nothing to sew together
just fucking dumb words, that don't even rhyme
that don't even chime, nor linger in your mind
ok, maybe except that time

occasionally the song will come and sometimes a good poem
but most of the time it's wishful thinking, combined with a restless overactive mind
that takes not cultivation time
and a lot of criticism of others, and envy and jealousy and pretending all of it doesn't exist, though i try my best to avoid it,
and then it's 9:30 its time to retire to my room tired and alone
since I can't get on a plane today, and cruise down himalaya st.
I just wanna go to sleep.

Le Sex

Le Douche Gigolo like sex fetish books at the bookstore
it's all we talk about these days, and think about all day
how to fix your sore relationship with a wet interlude of a vagina
and how you just couldn't seem to make it, just couldn't seem to shake it
wanting her back, wanting it back, so bad

He sells his sack on the black market, while he sells his soul at lunch
can't seem to get to the place He needs to with music
but who am I to talk, who am I to come running to?
I have nothing to offer you, vaginal lube is directed at someone new

no one has time for someone who isn't going to give them the vagina
let's get to the point i mean unless there is a chance
your gonna get laid
then seriously who wants to play the bass

no one wants to look at the big picture anymore
even if being a giant vagina does not equate being a pussy
or a douche gigolo
if you get the fucking sex out of your head maybe you can accomplish something big
something great
if you could just delay gratification then maybe you could pull your ass out of your head long enough
and actually enjoy le sex.

jeez, us.

Story telling and creating myths
behind closed doors behind closed eye lids
embracing creativity in your clothing your styles
telling them what it means

jeez us. it means nothing at all, to me nor anyone else.
jeez us.

there is no god to some of us there is no one left at all
this song is not about a being a person
there is nothing there at all

there is no story behind these words just a palette
I've sown together
there is no linkage for you to know
just read it like you shall
see it like you will
sing it like it is

so turn away the artist in me does
for I create not for you but for me
something in me
and I don't have to depict it for you
nor analyze criticize like some
philosophical history class at the university

dont let it be figured out
thats better art anyway
not trying to understand what the artist' says
jeez.us.

stones

Talk about smoking the smoke in and not tapping in to creativity
and the attacks
for people who do not know how to be creative
I felt the jab

It was meant for me
because I was disrupting the chi
talking about why I do not let the smoke in
discouraging maybe the little children
when it's just my experience i am sharing

I don't think it's nice to judge me for not indulging
in your slackeyed motivation
I don't know what to say about it
but I know it is true
There is only so much it can do for you.

It's not fair to be told that I am not letting go
I stand my ground asshole
I won't let go

I believe what I want and don't play with my life
I know what illness is not right


So, anger and sadness, but the truth I know is unfortunate
you always hurt the ones with words who make you feel inferior
but it's your insecurity all the way around.

And, it's sad.

All in a Song

Everything turns into a song, that's just who I am
and our new neighbors and other friends trying desperately to understand
though we try to explain
but music is in my blood and as practicing musicians we're different
than the ones who once were, who once did
but have now settled down and moved on to something more practical in nature
with 9 to 5 jobs and families to support
we live like you thought in your youth, but it is in our veins, it's really just part of our claim
to keep us sane

we're kinda like vampires, except its no blood we need to suck
we're kinda like vampires, can't properly raise a child or cook a meal
but maybe once in a blue moon.
We stay up really late, if not all night
stay out really late, all of the night
afraid of day light

day light works for the regular folk
but as a child of the song it makes it rather hard to cope
the world wants to change and prepare for the long haul
for the cold nights alone
make preparations for the church induced doctrine of the neo-natal
nuclear family
4.1 beings under one roof, one man, one woman, and the children
the post-modern doctrine of a Christian fundamental world

won't work for us in the rock n roll world
won't work for us to separate ourselves from our souls
to separate ourselves from peoples and beings
and to stop sharing....
why would we ever want to stop sharing?

I embitter as I walk away from the remnants of a traditional role
embarrassed I ever got sucked in
to a world so not me, to a role I couldn't control
a gypsy minded girl

I'm sorry I'm not a separatist, a nuclear family minded conservatist
who claims to be a liberal but still clings to mayflower pilgrim family idealists
so sorry I can't be a hypocrite, smoking cigarittes
while prescribing to social images
so sorry you don't get to taste the open air on my lips
so sad you can't taste the freedom on my fingertips

because when all is said and done
I still have time to write this song

Feelin Like Bonnie and Clyde

Written Sometime towards the end of October, 2008
It's 90F outside desert valley streets strip mall after strip mall after strip mall. Some country meets Asian Mexican ghetto cafe, feeling like Bonnie and Clyde... We sit and order coffee the fucking valley, living a bohemian lifestyle that I've always wanted on the surface, its one thing to look the part but to actually be away from the style of the city. It's hard even though only ten miles away somewhere tucked into the deep deep country. Motorcycle Riders in all black. Overweight frizzy hair older women with crispy faces, Spanish speaking families.... The youthful world of the big city does not exist here. Here we are the true bohemians broke musicians living in the country.

The Way We Once Were

Finally, when you look that Jesus in the eye, and self soothe your midnight cries
recognize the bitterness is holding you back blocking you from growing
wings, even though you are still flying, and still somehow learning

because we continue to move forward even in our ruts
and we continue to grow, even if it is around the gut

I'm just thankful for the fear, that I do not have
that many do, that holds them back

You talk about despair and cravings as the beast within you grows
you talk about it's kicking as the alien inside you bellows
you wish you could go and see you favorite artist but he doesn't really know
late nights at the room of elbow, a long long time ago

you're married now, as I walk around single and alone
you wonder out loud what happened why we're always on opposite ends of the pole
like a teeter totter I say that's how we stay in balance
and you disagree, it's just a matter of guilt, loneliness and impatience
that prevents us from being together like we were once

It doesn't even phase me, as I listen to your cries
his possession, his obsession, holding on to you so tight
I was in that room for years, stuck and suffocating
The freedom I have now is just too liberating
to go back to any semblance of ownership
No one owns me now,
No one owns me now, not that they ever did,
but tried to
oh how they tried and it's just part of human nature
to love and to fear, to love and to fear that our loved ones will disappear
I just can't do it again
I don't think I can ever do it again

The girls all compliment my new "special" friends
trying to encourage me to get tied down again
It sounds wonderful to be strapped to an ideal
that is attached to an individual with minds and games and fears
that are not my own, so not my own
I don't have the energy to own, something so not my own
When I've got my own to own

So ladies I know, misery loves company, and I love that you love
someone special in your life, to cherish
it's nice to be loved
but it's the way I once was, and a road I can never go down again
so I say, but who really knows, just know that I can't tolerate ownership and posession
the way we are told.
the way we once were

Gone with the Wind

My name is no longer Motor...sure it was a nickname, a stagename but is it phenom
a plunom? Does it still hold the same?

I can't decide but I feel the change wanting to abound
call me by my birth given name I am not your musical love slave
I no longer support those who cannot support themselves
cannot stand behind their word
I no longer support those who do not support me
so gone is Motor gone is Wilson gone gone with the wind

I can no longer write poetry that has this here label
I can no longer wait, succomb give in to subservient whims
No longer can I sit around only to go to bed
sit around exhausted energy sucked out of my head
I can no longer live under a narcissistic ideal in a world falling apart
Cannot hold onto a material persona needing to be when I already was

It existed when it needed to, a time when it was needed
to remind me of who and what I want to be
but I am me, can't be anything but and that person is here
without the tag, without the name, within

So I am going to go backwards or embrace something new
like a new added addage surname for true

deep in the middle of nowhere.

the circle of the living room so comfortable so inviting
but the house is an energy sucker

at first it was reassuring and then invigorating
and then.....

it began to suck you in....
it began to suck me in.....

until I found myself sinking...
until I am ultimately sinking...

we can't hear the cat's meow so he constantly gets locked out
can't hear much of anything but that which echo's the giant space

oh on the surface it looks so nice, so clean so organized
so spacious and a far cry from the bohemian squalor we came from
so you people say
"you guys are so lucky," why we're glad you approve
"but it is just so far, isn't it a little far?"
oh sure we are really lucky to be stuck out here so far away deep in the desert
deep in the middle of nowhere
if only you guys knew

that underneath and all around lurks a spirit which draws us in and sucks us dry
is sucking us dry
a blanket that covers our soul and forbids us to fly
a forgiveness that doesn't forgive and sucks us dry
forever sucking us dry
a forgiveness that doesn't forgive and
forever sucks us dry

North Hollywood

Waking up too much sun and dirt
strong coffee and benzodiazapines
cowboy boots and native finger rings
ladies in their panties, getting into cars
strip club fancy panties all over this city
lingering nancies of the night
unafraid of the morning light
shining on their oh what a sight

oh what an amazing sight
country roads and streetside haciendas galore
lizards and reptiles, lacey banditas
and baby strappin' cholitas
tattoed to the core

leather face, stubby fingers, calloused hands guitar girls
long haired rocker boys sleeping in the haystack
heroin overdose a thing of the past
lingering on
pasty cake grace
all dressed in black

North hollywood reservoir
just on the otherside of this a here wash
the wrong side of the tracks
frankly, mr. shankly steven would sew
this we all know
ghetto suburb mexico white trash rainbow

how we feel today

The girl so many years to hear the same thing
and still keep her around
not really a friend
for she is never really around

so there was a party here and there these last few years
but its still no excuse
to perpetuate the lie that she is a friend
when she gives nothing nothing nothing
and gets nothing in return

except a face to frown upon
a place to look down upon

she does not care to be a friend anyway
so i guess we are all better off this way

the oldness of our days the oldness of our ways
should not dictate does not indicate how we feel today

The Atheist

I don't want babies, and sometimes feel so bad
like I'm not the girly girl I'm supposed to be
because I am going to end up sad and lonely

I can't imagine the suckling of breast milk nor the late night feedings
I am much too simple

I can't imagine the shopping the decorating the waiting for the baby
the purchasing and the planning and the demanding of my time
I am much too peaceful

He wonders why I feel bad, perhaps you are in denial
that's so easy to say, so cliche'
I just feel bad and thats not why anyway

It's the way I have to listen and feign interest in the girls
my good friends discuss the alien in their belly
the amazing amazing spiritual baby birth process which I will never know
I wonder if this makes me shallow

I don't want to be shallow, any more than I already am
Perhaps I fear my lack of spirituality makes me an ugly dry atheist
which I never talk about, and cringe when people mention God
every single time. I die.

It's been this way for as long as I can remember. I don't tell anyone
haven't in years. Don't want to argue because
It's not that I don't believe in alien life forms or ripples
or even intelligence of a larger kind
it's just that I know it's a machine churning and churning
nature will control and do what is natural organic and
us people we just don't know
constantly trying to control
there is no God no ground control, it's just nature and it's cycle

My pregnant friend thinks its noble not to frivolously populate
my other friend, mother of two, says you get to be the crazy aunt
accepting each others life as thier own to navigate
other girls wonder why I don't feel like they
I think it's a giant gash in our ways, these girls have gone
It's a giant canyon they think their way, being a mother, letting child ravage body.
Especially at this age...or perhaps any age...
There is more to life I say.....I think I've officially gone my distance ways.

Girl, Be Healthy and Smart

Early to bed, early to rise
It's a pattern I've always owned
but in these recent times honed
The opportunities will be different
Alone

My rhythm follows this cycle
Though I'd love to eek out more hours in the day
Hanging with the boys all night
But when they get their second wind
To finish chores undone and art a more
I've somewhere else, off to be
no more to be seen

I swear I have tired to change
but I guess it isn't me
I've got this inner clock that tells me
Girl be healthy and smart
Wealth may or may not be yours
Girl you gotta be only smart
Be only yourself, when sleep takes over
no need to fight it
tomorrow I am better

compliments

I am so tired of the bragadocious so tired of my niceness
my nice compliments day in day out
i just want to be left alone to linger in my own silence, in my own peace
in my own place, in my own space
left alone to sleep on the floor or the couch at 5 in the morning.
how dare you notice that one time, that one measly time when you are fucking preoccupied with the tides of the moon no connection to what is going on with you
overweight and detached like most of America

So I do a line of cocaine here and there and you don't mind, in fact you supply it to me, let me do what I want
well I want to sleep on the floor. I want to be left alone. I don't want to want or need to need, or want to need or need to want anymore. And I don't want to do any of this with you anymore.

No, I am not mad, and you might think I am, but I am just being me, the way you get to be you, and I don't question or complain, and you compliment me the same this way
I let you be you, and I wait for a bone.

I know what I have to do, but in theory it becomes ridiculous and hard hand swept defeat. Just let me sleep. Just let be me you do, and then I remember it is perfect this way.

So Now You Say You're a Painter

So now you say you're a painter and I obsess with Henry Miller
We've all got our new or old endeavors, and I've finally moved past the rock band fancy
Gonna experiment with sounds, because the music is in me and write the books, while he fills his well of inspiration
getting A's and building the machine, undoing the system, movies and movies
and you paint your pictures, no band drama no pain

So now you say you're a painter and the rest is folklore
stories and storytellers all musicians are anyway, artists in our own ways
and the drug addicts have gone sober and the pool is overflowing with water

I realize who my friends are and who my friends can be, and I'm getting soft around the belly
but it still feels pretty
because the skirts I wanna wear with Vera and boots I wanna wear with Mary
I do it anyway, and it all still feels pretty

Henry didn't try quite as hard, and perhaps he didn't have to....but neither do we or you
So maybe everyone has turned painter or producer or writer or some bull shit endeavor which I barely believe anymore
anyway

but it still feels pretty

Henry Miller

The same desires have lost their flavor
I have been pronouncing this mantra all week
I thought I would be more excited
for the dress and the regalia for the rock and the sunshine
Two houses while the poor reside in un air conditioned apartments
while I live with a houseful of motel habitants and participants
writing, living in squalor and tight quarters provide
the inspiration for this here and the writing
doing laundry at the laundromat and I know what my friends would say
how unglamorous
but obviously they don't know art or Henry Miller
and that I don't care if I live this way forever

One of those days...

Where I float and it feels like I should just float off the page
I need the distractions, but then they become just that
Distractions
When there is so much water and dirt and soil to grow ten million trees right here
Wandering off into some other gardens
I'm less evolved than most
More needy than most
and Now today I feel bad
Sad
And ready to go
back into my shell and close the door
write the story lines or the songs of the days long gone

God it's all just so ridiculous how I want to float around
How I crave some balance
How sad I am today

And, he's right....he's right on many levels
except for the ones he tries to understand
but even then he is right

It's too hard to go it alone
36 and still not brave it would seem
a waste of time
this life
if all this time and all I do is learn
it would seem, i said

I want a new life
your're already bored of this one she asks
yup

In my fickle ways, and the last 7 or 8 not so fickle years
of rock and roll and punk mayhem
and all of a sudden realizing your Iron Maiden undertones
not underwear with skulls on them all your chains and metal
pretty pretty fishnets and long blonde hair ways
it's ok this fashion when you really want to hear some keyboard and literal
meanings that make you think

fuck that cheesy crap
fuck the rocky road ways
maybe its time to return to my ways
or maybe its just time to explore deeper the skin
love the skin your in

some dance and moody mixture band from some endless road comes
and its beauty has beseeched me and left me sullen and empty
for his body and mind
I was once so absorbed by
and love won't go away thats for sure
but realization of my truth may take me away

Romantic Evening

Driving around during magic hour
listening to the droning sadness of The Cure
visions of a lesbian-fronted version to call my own

And the weight has been lifted,
because I worry for no reason
a non-jealous supportive response
to some old baggage I hold on to
and I want to cry, or sigh
who is this person, and why is he letting me be me
free

I drive around alone, during magic hour
I hardly work anymore and tonight I go home alone
Last night I tossed and turned overcome by fear and worry
tonight I'll sleep like a baby

I feel in love on and off
but that's not the point anymore
and now that's been established
we can move on
hold my hand in support, but not in possession
not in ownership
if you love someone set them free

Romantic evening I drive around alone
Downtown, Chinatown, Little Tokyo, and under the bridge
Dreaming of friends and freedom and the taste of wine on my lips

The sun sets and it's too dark to even write anymore
It's getting too dark to write here anymore
And they've all started walking home, holding hands

Sometimes the words they spill like a faucet
but only when happiness and inspiration, which are basically the same thing anyway, meet

Being out and about
Summer LA nights
the lights so bright far off in the distance

I stay out late alone
This is home.

billy sleeping on the couch

deep sigh
go in there and just stop thinking
deep sigh
or stay in here and keep blinking
anxious belly
nows the time billy
sleeping on the couch

guitar entrance
or midi experiment
this morning in Target
I felt this experience

valley living for a reason keep reminders
guitar strumming lets play already
come fix this thing here and change your picture my dear
I just don't like to say things like that, cuz I got angry when you said it to me
I tell you and I will cuz I have to get over these things.....

Woman of Leisure

Literary genius, making a name for yourself, still partying by candlelight, and making people go crazy
new discoveries, and memories, and reminders of what is so easily, just be, exist in neutrality
let the love in please

every time he takes his pants down for you does he get angry? treat you so badly
and everytime do you blame yourself pull away, tired of hearing his blathering ways
so tired again today

she wants to jam, invite her over I say
otherwise I will sit in here and write these essays all doggone day
cuz i'm not picking up the guitar today not when I already did so much work today
I'm a woman of leisure these days, remember

books, and journals, and books and journals, throw in a magazine here and there
turn on the computer and maybe the work will come my way
now there is an idea, i say.

I Can Barely See

I never see myself playing guitar anymore....i'm not out of the woods yet, I never see the forest for the trees.....I'm down on these knees, meant for these bees please, let me on this stage, let me smell the sweat pour down our foreheads please. Before I am so jaded and retired.
If only I could see the guitar holding so tightly on to me . Not letting me be. Not letting me sleep.
Every morning it's anxiety. No, really what is going to happen to me. Thinking it's something devastatingly deathful and untasteful. When really who really knows.
I'm tired and maybe it's just time to sleep, eat, sleep and eat some more.

All Over The World

I've got friends, and weekends like this I'm lucky to know
they've all come here to reside in the city of the Angels
to chuck their unhealthy ways to work to work and fucking live
I've just got to get out more....

So we get to see each other, like no time has passed
but I have no idea who your day to day friends are
but it doesn't matter because we all come together anyway
and your friend gives me the key to their mansions,
their summer houses
And your new girlfriend feeds me endless supply of Brazillian potato salad
and I invite you old friend into my home, then to my summer house and back
into my new house in a strange world of focused music and work.
I just need to get out more...

And she's sober now, god, we used to party for years and years and years
and she's doing good, and I watch her and sit on her bad as she packs
she seems somehow sad.
I remind her it's so good, she's doing good, and she smiles yes
We've just got to get out more....

scenic moments when things are pleasant and happy
its all state of mind little kiddies
when the guitar was played long enough today
maybe I'm learning it has nothing to do with the keys
and everything to do with the strings
that soothes the angry empty soul
that's not yet travelling the world
that yearns and needs and begs and pleads
and hopes and prays and then bleeds
If only it were truly bleeding then there would really
be a reason for such an angry season.
grow up stupid child ignorant bitter woman
and lick the tasty freedom that's resting on your lips
lightly brushing your hips like a dance or a glass of wine
and be strong in what you do dumbass.

Space and Room

I guess I should have known
I know I did
I have been slowing down, and trying not be be impatient
or take it personal
it's not personal
just personal style
and I'm too much go go go go go go for some

it does make me sad and is a little disheartening
but the pull has been to go it alone
though that's not necessary here
it definitely feels like it
in some ways

or maybe it's just easier that way
pulling away everyday
creating division
i give you room
you give me space
the closeness disappears
and then change

but alas change is good
and I think I'll be happier this way
I'll give you space
and I'll get my own room

Like Before

I guess I imagined it different... I guess I imagined it like before
and I had all these preconceived notions of how it should be
like it was before

and then I read back, and find it weird how so many things i wanted
and predicted are here, here and now, how weird

and then I realize it's all right here
it's all written here
those old songs
like old ripped off doors
i'm stupid this way
suckled down by my own neurotic neurosis

but I wanted collaboration
I guess I expected there to be more
this time, like before
but I'm open to change
and flexible for what is to come
and I'm reminded and comforted that it's all right here
It's all been written right here

so I guess that's what I have got to do.
we've got what we've started too
and what is written here
is all right here
and it's kind of like I pictured it
I guess I knew
it's different from before
even though I kinda prepared for it
planned it, and foreshadowed it
I guess I knew it wasn't going to be like before....

Sobriety and Compromise

I know how much I can compromise
I know how much I've done it before
I know some is required to make it work...to get what I want, need, love

I don't care to be sober today
Though I know it's probably better that way

Want a beer, a coors light, "sweetheart?"
No, I think I'll just go and sit on the porch.

Some simple Glendale townhouse, at least it's green here
and unlike the cactii laden streets where I live

I don't want to be sober today
Though, I think I am happier this way
I am slightly hungover anyway

Yesterday was another day
She and I drunk by the pool all day
on a fucking Wednesday
under the Hollywood sign in the hills somewhere

Foreign boys in briefs, feeding on cocaine
at least she's not married, pregnant or employed
"I want to be a porn star," she says
"Jump on my back," I say
We piggy back down the hill this way.

Today is another day, he says, "Let's spend the day"
"Not fighting" we say, but I'm unhappy and annoyed just the same
I love him as he fixes his friend's bed upstairs

I'm thinking about the songs we play
and the unfinished ones in my head

We build each other up, it's the compromise I dread.

Talking about my lesbian lovers and friends
man daters disguised as man haters
these are our lover's words anyway
He loves her too, I can hear it in his voice, see it in his face
If only she'd love him the same way.

ugly and angry

for several days now and only myself to blame

how are you going to live without all your comforts

i didn't own it before

own the dream, the desire the spirit fingers

4 months not 2 the day

so not wanting to come home

and dealing with the inadequacies that are placed by my mind

but the work that is taking place 

is that of strengthening and changing livid comfort patterns

that breed ugly and angry

i'm not labeling everything mine

that's just ridiculous

if you must live in the apocalypse house

or the calypso house

or the platinum house

it's the glamour house

with keys and key and keys and keys

that breed eternally pretty

In this empty room

one, two, three, babies at your door

and when he lets you down

you know where you can go

you know where to find me

shiny black my hair-do

walking in the cemetery at dusk, song trails in my thoughts

I'm going to set up my music studio here, in this empty room

visions of apocalypse and dust,  tonight again I'm gonna put on my makeup, belts and boots 

while you sing lullabies in your baby's room

while the other children at your feet scurry to the play room

visions of sunflowers wither and bloom miles between us

smiling thinking of days beyond us

and who knows what is to come

so your belly grows, how many more babies at your door?

do you know I will be here when he goes?

waiting for you dancing in my tall black boots

I will be the one to save you

Still dancing alone in this empty room

compliments

nobody knows what the words mean

and he's suffered at the hands of women

and I won't suck it up at the heals of idiotic men.

i will ignore it. you can bet.  i will forever ignore the idiodicies, I fucking hate chauvanistic comments syrupy and sugary sweet from your friends gate. 

Selfish and Single...guiltfree

the mother who's lips don't stop flapping about counting yer pennies, work for the man, buy a house, get some insurance, suck suck suck, give give give into fear fear fear. You cannot understand the mindset of my soveriegn ways
the sister oh a supposed sister who drugs and drugs and drugs her days, and yells and screams to get her way and all of a sudden after 50K a drop in the bucket ok, oh how she expects everyone to drop to the ground and give her 500 pushups, "jump cuz I say." And yells at me. she thinks I will give in to her ways.
the gal she had her baby, it's babytime and baby days, i'm supposed to call and wish her well, and be her support, be her support. suck me dry the postmortem wanna. i have nothing to give
no ear to listen to postmortem viagra.
I am the auntie with a gift, then I leave, selfish and single. No apologies. oh oh oh. Get it right.

White Puffy Clouds

The toxic winds of the hot weather and the night and the wine

and not enough song writing and guitar playing in these days 

of falling in love

and obliterated sundays spent in psychedelic haze

and the beautiful voices of ladies singing in my hear, earphones

no more a season of illusions that I cherish my happiness and freedom and freedom and happiness

she has gone so far away and we no longer dream of her thank god, she was lost and lonely

not a happy mother no happy baby, she is no longer a child or a liar or a thief or a user or a pain causing selfish lady, hopefully

we don't really, no we never feared those qualities, cut-throat in her own ways, does it make me sick?

She does love.  I know this.  I tell myself, and know that the love is a mirror image reflecting back at she. She does love even though she loves herself first.  She loves him and her and she and he. I know. for she is me and it's not an empty street.  

It's a Saturday night and the heat lingers while her voice pounds  in my ears, so beautiful and peaceful. Comforting. Wine moisturizes my heart and I'm filled with puffy white clouds.  

slowing down of service

the tiring of the apocalyptic service taken away by the handy dandy people

wow, why isn't everyone just so handy dandy and there are so many ideas flourishing

but my skirt hasn't gone well above the knee, and the fragrances haven't wafted up into my nose

like they used to my dear

and my fishnet stockings wrapped around my legs wrapped around your legs with your heavy jacket, gloves, hats, scarves and boots damn the summer and the chatter

for they have been replaced with

north hollywood dance parties quinceneras and such and their music wafting in the neighborhood, way after hours and I always wake up to the Mariachi

always waking up to the Mariachi

laughing my head off

laughing my head off

why don't I always feel this happy?

why do i sometimes feel so angry?

why can't I just listen to you and be happy even when I am so damn groggy

"it's nothing a full nights rest won't cure,"

I can't even get myself to attend any of the functions I normally would

and I have only myself to blame for we do what we want

and you do what I want, within reason

don't be a bitch Motor Wilson

you're just tiring of the jeans and the jeans and the blue blue jeans

and you just need some sleep

and of course you have slowed down quite a bit

i am an island, amidst all this chaos
i am the supplier, you are the earth
salt drying all my rain

i give so you will be free enjoy what giveth to you
what cometh your way
but so many just taketh away just taketh away
sad and lonely and empty
where are your manners child?
28 year old, grown woman
you are not a child.

and i'm angry now
as i always am
the one i wanna be with always seems so far away
though so close
yet so far away
always in the other room.

So, i wait and remember
how i woulda waited forever, but then one day i don't anymore
i get old and i get bored and something else
shiny and new grabs my attention

all the anger you caused me until then floods back in the window
and i'm reminded of what you never gave me
1.2.3.4 times maybe more
and i'm sure it will happen again
when the gleaming new toy promises salvage

I'm so nice this way.....

Excited about the work and the play
if only I could get the sleep out of my eyes, and the dredge out of my throat
and my fingers onto the art
the art but first the muuuuulaaa baby

it's mind over matter, this I already fucking know
so much of my life is this way
me thinks communism has seen its day
but marxist societies spit in your face
supposedly capitalist in their wake
get over it i never had to
i live the positive attitude
who is the one that needs to hear it most

Ecstatic about working and playing
sugar in my cereal bowl can make thee too puffy
all these chemicals make your skin dry
and I still compliment every day
have nice things to say
i'm so nice this way

Let me see what it says on your business card
is that really right today?
what did he write today?
over there on the wall that way?

The captain flashes his badge.
We're so over your bragadocious ways.

I don't know what else to say......

Excited about the work and play

if only I could get the sleep out of my eyes, and the dredge out of my throat

fear takes over this way

On Being Judged and Rejected....

Walking through these days with a handful of sweet gut juice
Leaping through the air, over windswept fears of jealousy and superficial friends
then there is the current fragrance I should just be alone
I am ultimately mostly alone anyway, yet bound by these strong strings
"can you talk?" I know what he means, and I can't help but feel
I traded these in

It's all for the journey "you made all the right moves"
is that not subjective to the person it benefits the most?

I know I did though. For I had to see this through
and disappointment on being judged and rejected
controls me today... and her words ring true You need time. Neediness a reflection of time.
I want her to be right. and the other one saying "You will feel the pain 3 months later." I want her to be wrong.
And I know she is. I feel both right now.

Who controls the time? Who controls the time and space? I wonder not.

All the Fucking Talk

Ladies ladies ladies
all you wanna do is talk talk talk
and shop shop shop
eat, shop, eat shop, and fucking talk

talk about love and process all its glory
hear about my love life and untangle all my stories
I like my life it's mystery, the tangled webs i weave
I like to keep it to myself and hunger for it beneath
I dress myself in the morning and I would rather make the money
than listen to you tell me how love is supposed to be

How can you define a gigantic mystery of love
you're so confused by it, you advertise idiot
magpie he cals it, and it rings true
going to Costco to spend your lunch hour
on hotdogs and super size value packs
no thank you magpie
i'd rather sit here and make money on top of money
than listen to your blathering blabber
go talk up another fucking ladder.

Mongolian Nomad

Saying trading it all for Rock 'n Roll
And dead serious
these mundanities of 9 to 5-ities and HMO health plan-ities
and beauracracies

limited versions of so-called families and no flexibility
and idiodacy friends who stab you once twice three times
not out of spite, but sheer airheaded careless-ness
like leaving the door of your house open so everyone can steal your things
what's really going on bitches?
grow the fuck up

peeling off layer by layer, one by one
I swear one day it will all be gone
it's already almost all gone

and I never really wanted to go there
but comfort and effort for nice things and nice skin
bank accounts and medical plans, I was the only one, everywhere
but the sheer meaness I feel it 'cuz it still spurs
and all the tears I spent on it
little reminders over the years
12 long years

of building something I didn't really believe in
in the end
because it wasn't what it was meant to be
and things aren't always as they seem or as you want them to be

Slowly I won't care anymore
Slowly I won't eat anymore
Slowly I won't itch, cry, breathe, live
So, just fucking let it go, and let it be

In the midst of all this hard work and rain
there is a light and pangs of pain

it comes and goes in waves
and then i remember things like emptiness
and obsession and posession
which scare the living daylights out of me

and i remember it's the freedom i have only
time to gain

wow i'm bitter and angry
the same
things change but some things stay the same

your body doesn't know what to do with the extra proteins
they say

and people are ignorant and trying to be cultured
all day

and is the music reason enough to stay
when i get obliterated 3 times a day

exacted and empty these girls without pay

wow i'm so cold and detached
i hate people
i hate everyone today and yesterday
and i'm fucking sad and exhausted again
today

still i swell

in the noisy semi-drunken expression
this rock 'n roll life, no expectation
of children or being a wife

and an agreement was made sort of it seemed
no there is nothing we can do for our parents
at this point
but be ourselves, and be happy and lead our lives

but still i swell
fear there is no real love in this well
cuz you don't love me anymore
and i've hurt you in a million different ways

and this whole boy girl thing
i can't go down it again
causing pain and feeling bad
obligated into loving
so that you will protect me and save me
after sharing
still be in love with me
when clearly you no longer do

all at once

we sat together in silence
all morning
me and the kid
no, not my kid thank god
but nonetheless suprising myself

today i am an open sore
and sitting quietly never felt better
i am waiting for you to reach inside and grab
all that is there
until there is no more

i love and hate all at once
am proud and scared all at once
and next will come little boy talkative
and we'll probably have to play a game

and my neighbors who think that i've got it made
with love all around
and i do, but know it's not true
no, it's not true

i've got this pain this deep deep pain
that won't be fed and won't go away
it's piercing into my gut
and rising

what's past

we loved it all of us in our own ways
but now everyone has parted ways
but i guess it's fate or destiny or some conglomeration of both that brought us together
and a sympathetic sadness or sentimental pity that keeps us attached
to the past

many years have passed but no time has passed
god the hours they passed so fast
and luckily or something like that
we've moved past

the judgement and the rules
the madness and the looks of disapproval
the fear oh the fear

leaving everyone only to be stuck with what is
their own truth
which for me was a really good thing

leather and tights

Leather and tights
there was no leather and tights last night
there was no smelling of cologne

leather and tights and long long nights
of keeping you by my side
i would if i could you know
all night

long days of saturdays
bedside bemoans me
talk below me
let's get this rock and roll show on the road already
i know you feel me

from here on out
i cannot take care anymore
and i sense danger and sadness and fight
of people feeling lonely and getting the short end of the night

oh well i've got this thing to do
and you know i wanna do this with you

In these early days

And her face just vanished disappeared, and I realize
in those early days it was a comfort
taking the edge off his alpha ways

In the early days, of barely a few months ago,
she wore a smile on her cherry red lips
she wore a smile as she crossed her ladylike legs
and I realize it was comfort

A different hairstyle every day she wore and it was a costume of sorts
I guess
for all of a sudden he bore, not complete
a whole in that red dress

I laughed and joked about the walking on the slut path
she laughed in good jest it seemed
we were happy
I wouldn't walk this with with with my other girlfriends I stuttered

but he was tearing a hole in her soul
she was just an image we all had concocted for even he
no longer owned the she we believed

my heart somedays it hurts because I guess I so wanted to believe
in she
but she was just a fleeting sight to be seen
a mere figment of our imagination

lady like femininity walking the streets red cherry
in these early days we go on, as one without she

comfort

drained and tired as the planets travel backwards
this left brained work can be a lot she says
zapped
luckily you power your right brain she says
relax
and all I want is a drink or a cheeseburger, french fries,

not thinking about powering the right brain
in fact only dreading dreading wanting my bedding
comfort comfort fried calamari

sundays are soft and fleshy

like a baby just woke up no fire in his eyes
there are only a few hours in the day allowed
for soft and fleshy for in the next few hours you must
put on your armour and prepare for the world
fierce and fighting

at least today i no longer feel angst
nor sadness
enveloped by the warmth that the rain brought in

it's going to get quiet without the frivolity of friends
and that is going to be a lonely day

the ones who don't care

feelings change on a day to day basis finally can't you see
yesterday i saw the grappling
i want to be honest there seems to be a lot of hush hush hush here
but all in good time i'm reassured

and i'm also reminded that he doesn't know what changes are within
what journey i'm about to embark upon
what greatness and possibilities

and i know too many people who only love me when i'm on stage
too many people who prefer me there than anywhere

and then there are the ones who don't care

all i can do is focus on the music, all i can do is focus on these here notes
and let the cards fall where they may sherry baby

lips service

no more lip service is promised
no more lips serviced i was promised

sucking down my energy is so easy
don't you think? don't you see

yesterday was emraced in love and lust and legs
today the kingdom of anger lays to rest
lips parted was that a smile i saw
as i gave you the dirty dirty bad news
halfway hoping you'd see it my way
that i no longer feel
i no longer feel

such things

lips and lips and legs and lust and lips and everything else in between
and then together we can walk the earth
immortal
vampire
sucking no longer sucked
sucks for you that your feelings are so deep
sucks for me to have to leave it all behind

the enchanting full moon

the enchanting full moon
happy valentines day to you
you're so beautiful do you know?
I think so much so

But,
I won't fall like I've done before
I won't walk down the path with you like
I might have before
I have love to give, but no

It's super warm today even though there is no
sun in the sky, not a glimmer of light
only rain clouds and darkness
but I can feel your warmth heating through me

But, god I am so sad to say
I cannot fall like I would have done before
I won't walk down the path with you like
I might have before
I have so much love to give to you
trust I want so much so
to give to you

in ways like never before

I made you a beautiful card today
of hearts and crayons and colors everywhere
then I tucked it away
and wrote this poem on the other side

oh romance to give it to you, spread the love
right?
but I won't
too bad so sad,
this also I know

freedom is a lonely road

Something happened on the eve of the year of the pig
and I became unleashed
un-prisoned by the confines of my own mind

Thank god the last 20 years are over
the jail sentence i served myself finally complete
I am finally walking away
from this burial ground

I can feel the soil here trying to suck up my life
if I let it

It's not even the music he brings me
nor the coffee
I'd like to think that it's something in me
that has finally clicked open to reality

Freedom is a lonely road and
I don't want to be afraid to go it alone
sober and alone

the undoing of old strings

telling people too many things
and seeing old friends the undoing of old strings

and pompous jerks who know too much about everything
and have to have the final word the final say
this was my week and luckily not the majority of my day

i know too little about too many things
i don't wanna pretend or front in front of your two front teeth

i had to do it, i tell myself kinda like
getting it out of the way

but it tore me down for years and i have to build myself up today

thanks for the kind words, to my bestest friend
thanks for all the support
you are what keeps me going today
you and the music
you are all i have today

the most important thing today

i gotta throw these old shoes away
i used to love those god damn shoes
it took me so long to undo those strings

but my freedom is not going to be at stake

art is beautiful

she went so far away and now her songs get airplay
i smile for her, blessed the soul who's art forever may
be recognized a beautiful day

i must recenter myself i say
fuck the rest i say
and i mean it this time
it's here to stay

i spent another night with your frivolity and drinking
your insults and demeaning
and its their art-less life he says no meaning a void
emptiness

and you gotta hurt those you love those who love you
it's only history i say, a fun one we used to brag about it everyday
to everyone's dismay
the rebellion the raw and wretched we knew everyone days
and stayed up all night with the crazies days

those are over boy and girl
and i love you with all my heart
forever in my soul
embedded in my past
in my long long past

if the art is my path
and your art-less life is pain
then i think i should know the answer
it's so obvious in so many other ways
anyway


can't you see the tears in my eyes, crying for our lost golden days
a day which will never come again
it's history a beautiful and brings me such pain

but kiss the sentiment goodbye
nurturing the art is not in your forte' of money and fame
of hob nobbing with glamour nor
your vocabulary of success and neither is my life my ideals

so tata my friends, toodles i say,
may we see each other on yet another plain,
setting myself free to be me and you to be you

knowing we need it to be this way anyway
not fair to bring pain to one another this way

and so that i may chase yet another
sunny artful day

Do not love us...

until you love yourself

or hold us too tight
if you work so hard to hold us, cage us or snip our wings
do you care that this won't make us happy?
this only suffocates me

don't tell me who to be
or question my reality

nelly says, "i am like a bird

i will only fly away
i don't know where my home is,
I don't know where my soul is,"

you know this about me already
stop trying to box me in

i am not a pet, a baby
an object or something to own

AND
love is not a possession
just let us go

why in love do you want to control?
it's so transparent
your role, your insecurity

know this
you will never own me
we must pity the soul that falls for your gripping steadfast insulting nausea
it's so obvious you love us more than you love yourself
need us to complete you
so sad
holding so tight
afraid to let go

sting said if you love someone
set them free
free free set them free
but your bitterness mean words and biting tongue
will ensure our never return....