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