Songsmiths if any of you consider taking my words and putting them in a song this is an intriguing proposition. Let's talk about the possibilities and potential.
Amie Mae
Oh Amie may we sing and play
Oh Amie Mae I want to stay
Here with you all day
Let me read to you
Just to be with you
And hold you
Amie Mae I want to hear you sing
“I want more, I want more”
Oh Amie Mae I love you dear
Wish we were close and near
Oh Amie may you always be that way
The way you are, you are so sweet
My heart takes a leap when you’re at my feet
With your little arms reaching up to me
I want to sweep you up
And drink from your cup
Of joy and happiness, hold my face with tenderness
Writers' Block
Pull up to a clean sheet of paper
with a freshly sharpened pencil.
Now your thoughts begin to taper
nothing to do but test the tensile.
Funny how a blank sheet of paper
can wipe out your mind.
Your thoughts were all a caper
now they've stopped you find.
So I put it away to do something else
ended up in the basement
cleaning the workbench and shelves
when I got an inspirational hint.
I charged upstairs to get something
to get this great thought down.
When I got ready there was nothing
to express but a frown.
No, I haven't got writers' block.
Any day now it is going to hit.
Then the editors will phone and knock
and they will offer money, lots of it.
Better clear all these cobwebs off
I know I will be writing soon.
Puff the dust, blow and cough;
make a face and hum a tune.
At the table sits a skeleton
with a pencil in hand loose and lank.
An appropriate epitaph to engrave on
his stone would be; ah, let's see, ah; would be blank!
Effigy
a small part of me
a likeness I'd like to forget
crude but memorable
sculptured in the likeness of a man
but can I forget all that I am
and remember what I must be
do what U must
B kind I trust
if U
bury me N
F & G
Tales of Woe
(The Unlearned Lessons)
Frogs float on a lily pad boat
on an ocean of tranquility
Soon to find they're in a moat
circling it endlessly
The elephant trusts in its' tusks
his might and power command;
Regal, yet struggle it must,
for survival is not a given
The eagle cries in the sky
riding currents on its' wing
Surely the eagle must die
if it does no other thing
A school of fish make a wish
just once to swim alone
Justice is swift not squeamish
and takes them one by one to God's throne
The butterflies fly through the sky
pictures painted on their wing
Tears wet their cheeks as they cry
because they can not sing
Young Man
Young man, bright man
today is your day.
You need stay on your guard
and study ever so hard
and you have it made.
Young man, tentative man,
hidden in your shell.
I drew you out,
I removed your doubt;
stand up and sound your bell.
Young man, impressionable man
you need to seize the moment.
Life marches forward too fast
to let it slip from your grasp,
do not delay in torment.
Young man, achieving man,
you stray beyond the rules.
Your future is bright,
the oyster is yours tonight
as you sharpen your tools.
Young man, haunted man
you struggle so brave.
You give up the chase,
your future you can't face;
live up to your vows in the cave.
Young man, cowardly man
back against the wall.
You have found your voice,
you say there is no choice
cornered by it all.
Young man, desperate man
gun in your hand.
I know your dream,
I hear your scream,
does he not understand?
Young man, dead man
I sing you this requiem.
A young mans' dream is not met
therefore life he has forfeit;
family should sustain not condemn.
1
Young man, grieving man
gather at the river.
Your heart beats,
you know not defeat;
your eyes wet and lips quiver.
Old man, stubborn man
make them bow to your will.
You don't understand
how you play your hand
can help them live or kill.
Young man, struggling man
you were almost a goner.
You feel the strain
surging in your veins;
where is your honor?
Oh captain, my captain
you opened my eyes and made me see.
That the most important work a man can do
is what he does for himself not for you.
You have set my spirit and soul free.
Inspired by the movie "Dead Poets Society"
1985 & 1992
Moon Clock
(Luna Ticking)
I wanna see ya pitch a fit
lunatic.
I wanna hear you laugh
psychopath.
I wanna hear you scream,
"Is this a dream?"
Let me see if you can hide
from suicide.
I wanna see you squirm
like a slimy worm.
I wanna see you scared,
see your soul bared.
I know that you have lied
about genocide.
Would you like to cop a plea
of insanity?
You're some kind of cannibal;
you're an animal.
You're no amateur
you murderer.
You grow geraniums
in the craniums.
You use the tanned skins
for your whims.
Life in a Jar - Part 1
No matter where you are
life is better there than life in a jar.
Think of where you are
things could be worse
than life in a jar.
Insulated by glass walls
from the pain of it all.
Sheltered and protected
and sometimes neglected.
Can't get out but you can wish.
You have the same dreams as a goldfish.
Hope to be free,
just like me.
Then what will you be,
on the loose, an escapee?
The thought can be haunting,
free for life but left wanting.
Life in a Jar - Part 2
Life in a jar
beating your limbs against the glass.
You can see through but you can not pass.
Life from afar.
Through a telescope
it appears remote.
From a distance,
through binoculars,
life is solitary.
Life is singular.
A lonely existence
Life in a jar.
Your freedom has been confiscated.
You can't breathe you're being suffocated.
Life without a guiding star.
Life in a Jar - Part 3
Is this separation from the nation
a dividing line just in my mind?
Is it just a question under my hat
or is there more to it than that?
Life in a Jar - Part 4
No place left to hide
when your trapped inside
a jar.
It is like a clear cocoon
with no elbow room
in a jar.
You are a firefly
too soon, too dire, die
in a jar.
Life in a Jar - Part 5
No place left to hide
when your trapped inside
a jar
It is like a clear cocoon
Without any elbow room
in a jar
I am a firefly
too soon I will die
in a jar
Proud as the 4th of July
July 4th, 1990, Wednesday
The crowds milled
waiting to be thrilled by fireworks.
I looked out over the sea,
the faces of humanity, stretched out on
lawn chairs and blankets.
The display began
I was proud to be an American especially today.
July 8th 1990, Sunday
Sat in church today
bowed my head to pray with the congregation.
Opened the songbook,
at hymn 340 I looked and began to sing
"The Star Spangled Banner".
I was impacted in a different manner, far beyond
the July 4th proud
with tears in my eyes I sang loud, the real meaning
of the 4th was clearer
I held this country even dearer to my heart.
Multi-Purpose Couch
The three children played on the couch all
at the same time, immersed in their own reverie.
To one it was a sailing boat plowing through
a stormy sea with waves crashing and splashing.
To the second it was a large truck hauling
a huge load up and around a curving road
requiring great skill not to lose the load.
To the third child it was a fire engine
racing to the scene of a roaring fire
where a flaming building awaited rescue.
The tired mother sweeps into the room
and declares, "Alright!
Everybody off the couch.
I want to sit down and rest."
Broken from their reveries three children
chorus, "Oh, Mom!"
then head to the bedroom
to use the bed for their respective;
boat, truck and fire engine.
There is a silver line in my mind
Drawn with my imagination
Tried to imagine the clouds with that line
But it just divided them into two groups
The dark and the light
And it started a fight
Throwing puffy punches
They cast the shadow’s line upon the ground
And divided up the country
Into what’s yours and what’s mine
But in the end we find that everything is everyone’s
There is not any official owner
The whole of life is a loaner
There are no rich and poor, only those who think they should have more
And they are so mistaken; the goal and gold are fake and
It is only a mind game making us believe it
An elaborate game which will deceive it
And make us think that they have more, when their hearts and souls are so poor
This work is automatically protected the moment it is written down it does not have to be "registered" for a copyright for it to be valid.
All rights and permissions are reserved by the Author, David Alan Binder and may not be reproduced except with permission.
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