Dangerous Poetry Vol. 1

One Man - I'll Write - Rattle in Rondo - Pipe Dreams - I Cry a Song - Lifetime of Mondays - Dreams - Don't Ask Me Questions

One man
one song 
can't do 
no wrong
Send me a letter
send me a card
It ain't getting better
and it ain't getting hard
From here 
to there
Rat's nest
in my hair
Send me a reason
send me a heart
It may be not be pleasing
it may not play the part.
Not mine 
Not yours
salt in 
our sores
Send me away
send me too far
It may not be today
Am I yet too far?

I'll write a sad song,
that will make me cry.
I'll write a mad novel,
that will make me lie.
I'll rewrite the Bible,
Make my mother cry.
I'll write at my table,
I'll write till I die.
You see, you can't see...
what you should be.
even what you could be.
I'll write a book, 
to make the world heed
I'll write my life,
I hope you will read
I'll write a song,
a happy tune
I'll write what's wrong,
truth too soon.
You hear, you can't hear...
what has been.
Even what hasn't been.
no, you can't hear.

Do you hear the rattle in your head,
As you shake it from left to right
and do you wake in the morning
thinking your chest a bit too tight?
One year after another,
looking back another dream.
On a pillow of boredom you smother
under a weeping willow I Scream.
Did you lose another dream
Did you let it die?
Roam the street in a drunken blur
trying to live down another lie,
One year after another,
looking back on another dream.
By your own hand will you suffer,
it's never quite as bad as it ever seems.

Jewish boys on holiday
cosmic toys or malady
jester in a black robe
of Peter, Paul and Job.
Wine feeds the hypocrite
they suck at illusion's tit.
The pipe dream of pipe dreams
cry for the unborn living screams
cry for stupidity ran amok
for a son of higher luck
They see but a fart
breeding in the back of their heart
I pity such lost and waste
It ills me like a bitter taste.
A taste of air
faint and not there.

I wake at night and laugh at me
I sleep to escape the fatigue and truth
I need all and want nothing
I find it hard to simply be.
We see things not there
We hear too much and feel to little
We worry much and ponder on
We care too much for being fair.
I laugh too little now
I walk too fast on this world
I count my change too often
I ask too much, how?

We need to take life with salt
we need more wink of eye
We are very happy with our self
We dwell too much on fault.
I believe in nothing and in all
I care for all and no one
I smell the flowers and the blood
I ignore the whisper and the call.
We are gods to us
I cry a song for us
We dance too little now
I lost feel for us.

A life time of Mondays 
and virtues of sin
 are all relative
without and within

And every day leads to another
and every son acts
 as his father did
every dream reached is forbid
every comic to his end.

It's the liquid flow 
of life and death
the dark and light
and give and take
of every breath

It's the Ebb and Flow
that remains constant 
Oh graver ritual
change is
yet not content.

A bitter sweet life 
we all live and
drunk or sober
we will withstand
and grow older.

Dreams are my true religion
and every midnight I pray
The nightmares that haunt me
Are the tythings I pay.
In a little slice of death each night
I find my peace of mind
Be it peaceful or deep in fright
My faith true, harsh or kind.

Don't ask me questions
I cannot answer
Don't feed me answers
I cannot question.
Don't drive me into glacier flow
or pull me into deeper cold.
I'm selfish and surviving
overt and beguiling
with twisted moments
and changing moods
closet secrets
which many evils brood
Yet angel of mercy
graceful pleasure
Greedy loyalty and mental treasure
and know this not the end
The list final and content
Part partial and fulfilled
Totally transient and fading
the future tells and past will kill.


This document maintained by GLJ
Material Copyright © 2004 Gary Jungling