collab

Saturday, March 18, 2017

POEM OFF THE TOP a spur of the moment write












Imagine Richard Pryor saying this as the old man..........


Poem Off The Top



Don't go there.
It's dangerous.

"LECTRIC wires and such
danglin'
janglin' like coins on a dead man's eyes.

you say you want a revolution?
then don't talk about it....................
Go out and dingdang do it!!!

Revolve.
Dance like the devil is watchin'
And tryin' to steal your steps.

Shake your fist in his face and say, Shoo!

LISTEN. I used to be a ballet dancer in a freakish side show
    They made us  pirouette 24/7
till our toes turned into granite and then fell off
(It was beautiful but it was no fun).

Papa was a rollin' stone
But Mama was made outta moss
Hence: No Body in our house was happy.

Use to, things were like they were s'post to be, y' know?
Nowadays, nothin' works til technicians come out and charge you fifty-five dollars an hour and then it breaks down again just as soon as
they get in their Geek Squad cars and drive away. GEEK cars, ain't that what they call 'em? Geek cars!!
More like freak cars!!

Life is a cabaret, my friend.
Only, Judy Garland is dead and gone
and nobody can sing torch songs no more
Songs are illustrated by pyROtechNeeks and laser lights
And you really can't tell if they on key or not
Lawd knows I'd like to take a dang torch to most of 'em!

I'm just settin' here in this here swing
On my porch, observin', mindin' my own dang business
And you little punk, hop hip, hippity hop, Milk Dud snorting wise asses
Just come jivin' along makin' fun of life and all that is wholly, holey holy carryin'them BOOM bADA BING boom boxes
turned up so damn high you shake the tennie shoes off tha 'Lectric wires!! 

(You know why my grandson throws them shoes up there on them wires like that? He do it cause he don't want nobody to steal his shoes!!! The idjit!)
And let me tell you, it gets me red in the face and disgustipated!

GET THE HELL OUTTA  MY YARD!
i'll CALL thE CoPs!
no, on second thought.....................
they might be more trouble than you guys.

listen. listen to me.....
If you shut up and turn that &%$#@*$ damn music down, 
I'll give you a whole bag of Milk Duds
And you all can take off down to the park
With the rusted out Monkey Bars and the one seated See Saws
And get your Dud on, Dudes.

What's that?


Hmm. Alrighty then. Be that way.
Just sit down yonder on them steps
AND I'll tell you a story
'bout the old days
when dinosaurs roamed the earth
and there were no In and Outs on every corner,
Just meat markets walking around
on all fours and women hanging round the cliffs
like BIG JUICY berries. Uh hmmm.

I don't care if you believe me or not.
It's true. Read your comic books. That be where
The truth lies......Super Man and stuff like that!

LISTEN.

I gots to go to the store and then I gots to go see my Mama
and then I gots to go down to the jail and see if they found my Daddy
and then, I......I.....
aw, hell.  I'm thinkin' bout something else done happened twenty year ago! hee hee.....ain't I a mess?

Ya'll get on away from here, now, you hear?
I done talked myself out. You shouldn't come by here every day
And make me run myself ragged like this chasin' ya'll off 
I'm old as dirt 
And they ain't no flowers planted in me no more.

Shoo!!!
   and stay away from them 'LECTRIC wIRes!!!!!
lawdamercy, what this world done come to?!
Judy Garland, Judy Garland.............................
Where ARE you now that we need ya, darlin'?






©by Voo
March 31, 2012
3:07 p.m.







"That's right, that's right!!!! 
 What he said! He know what he talkin' 'bout, ya big dummies!"




Theme from Sandford and son


The Man That Got Away
by Judy Garland



Billie Holiday
I'll Be Seeing You






I PLAY FOR YOU A VIOLIN




















I Play For You a Violin



I play for you a violin
And song so soft and sweet
I keep my eyes downcast, demure
As I sit at your feet.

I play for hours at your request
Till time has lost it's meaning
And candles burn down to their wicks
And night is slowly weaning.

Before the dawn has fully come
You hold your hand up high
And bid me stop my melody
Arise and say goodbye.

You do not look back at my face
Tearstung and raised to light
You do not see the love I bear
As you pass from my sight.

A servant girl, that's all I am
With gifted hands to play
Sweet melodies to comfort you
From torments of your day.

A king of royal dynasty
A man of power and yet
You find no peace in power's grasp
No love in life's plan set.

And so I play and so you listen
In silence, just we two
Night after night till daylight breaks
And my heart breaks for you.

You have no inkling of the love
I feel there as I play
Pretending you are mine alone
Till morn takes you away.

To kingly duties, kingly demands
The power of life and death
There in your words, there in your hands
There in your very breath.

All day I wait till midnight comes
For the summon and the call
Your weary face so full of woe
Till at your feet I fall.

And I play for you my violin
Pray peace into the gloom
Wait for your sigh with tear filled eyes
As my love fills up the room.






















©by Voo
April 28, 2007
3:45 p.m.

NOTHING RHYMED TODAY







Nothing Rhymed Today




Nothing rhymed today
There was no meter or melody
No singing lyric or verse of song
Just jangled nerves and unspoken fears
Left dangling on my key chain.

Cars passed me
In the pouring rain
And never acknowledged the girl
With the gas can and the thumb
And the mascara running down my face.

I could have shown some leg
I suppose
But my clothes were plastered to me
Like I had been poured into them
And everything I had was exposed already.

If it had been yesterday
I would have laughed at my mishap
Run down the highway
Danced in the rain and stopped traffic
With the glow on my shining face.

Everything rhymed yesterday
Every word that issued from my mouth
Was finely tuned, in perfect key
Poetry sprang from my fingertips
And car horns sounded like sonnets.

But I have no music left in me
It walked out in your suitcase last night
Winked it's dark eye and said goodbye
And I heard it laughing
All the way down the staircase to the street.

Poetry is a traitor
It makes you write when you don't want to
From places you don't want to revisit
Sing songs so sad they break the heart
And make rhymes of things that will never rhyme again.







©by Voo
August 8, 07