Pardon The Cello

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Soundtrack “Learned A Lot” by Amos Lee

Today they would’ve called us geeks or nerds
But when I was a kid we were the misfits, the oddballs

The ones who ate lunch at the ketchup smeared cafeteria table
None of us had cars or the money to eat off campus
all we had was acne, braces and Walmart clothes

Individually we were vulnerable and easily bullied
but as a pack we were freaks of nature to behold, a beautiful mess
We were the ones that were too short, too tall, too fat, too skinny, too smart, too shy, glasses too thick, too this, too that, and all the things that come after “too”

The one gift of being “too” is that it allowed us the freedom to not give a shit
about what others thought or said
We carried our band instrument cases with pride
The weirder the case, the better, and I think the french horn was one of the more cryptic ones

The cello was the Yeti of all cases and sure to turn a few heads on the bus
You could hear the hushed voices saying “What the heck is in there?”
Making its way down the narrow bus isle, banging the case into the bullies heads
“pardon me” spoken with mock sympathy

We found the halls best sonically suited to practice the Messiah
And we sang with gusto as the football players, cheerleaders, skaters and preppies filtered by
Some would actually stop and listen, while wise asses would goof off by making fart noises from down the hall

We read fantasy and SIFI books, we were proud Trekkies
We were at home in our daydreams and fantasies
Yes, we were virtual kings and lords of the video games we conquered
We were kids doing kid shit, in no hurry to be cornered by grown up responsibilities

The girls in our clan didn’t fit into the strict rules of fashion and make up
They were smart and had a good sense of humor
They allowed guys like me to give them a ride on my handle bars
crashing into the tall weeds, an accident becoming the prelude to an innocent kiss—–maybe not an accident??? maybe not so innocent???

All the pretty girls were constrained and selling their souls to be popular
They seemed in a hurry to grow up fast and become dissatisfied adults
with Republican biases, expecting to be privileged, smiling smug, indifferent, clinging to their 401 K’s, mouthing simple answers to complex questions, marching like a minion to Fox News and its right wing christian hypocritical drumbeat, dismissing everything and everyone outside their protective bubble of good paying job, new SUV and nice house in the suburbs, with their gardener Jose, whom they never asked to verify his citizenship or green card along with Juanita their maid

for them being an adult was just an extension of high school, sacrificing ones self to fit in with the most current trends

Occasionally I pull out my old battered cello and squeak out a wobbly rendition of our school fight song

Truth Scraps

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soundtrack “Master and a Hound” by Gregory Alan Osakoy

everything and everyone is stupid
This life is stupid, death is stupid
Everything that happens between birth and death is stupid

Politics is a lie
Spirituality is a lie
Sex is a lie
money is a lie

Love is over-rated
Blockbusters are over-rated
New and improved is over-rated
Guaranteed is over-rated

promises are meaningless
careers are meaningless
getting from here to there is meaningless
staying here is meaningless

trying to become something is boring
losing ones self in becoming something is boring
holding back is boring
getting pissed off is boring

newspapers, magazines, the nightly news is repetitive
Putting one foot in front of the other is repetitive
waking and sleeping is repetitive
Everything between waking and sleeping is repetitive

Starting over again is a waste
Believing it matters is a waste
Holding on to things is a waste
Trying to make a difference is a waste

Addiction is deceptive
bargaining with addiction is deceptive
not knowing is deceptive
knowing is deceptive

But you my love, are like my beer and my coffee
You never demand nor disappoint

You lead me on with your truth scraps
You bared yourself naked with authenticity
You said my poetry was like cotton candy
all sugar with no substance
and I said
I didn’t realize that poetry needed to be nutritious
your “out of the blue” honesty sealed my fate
our ending was now beginning

I don’t stand a ghost of a prayer
All my wishful thinking has lost its sparkle
I rub my chin, readjust my drooping pants
The many things left undone——-unsaid
linger like a fill in the blank quiz
I was never good at tests

Did I ever mention, I thought you to be pretty

Peeping Tom


soundtrack Idaho by Gregory Alan Isakov

And maybe this is all we get
A few years on a blue spinning ball
circling around an ordinary star
We’re god’s orphaned children swinging from monkey bars

In what feels like a not so ordinary life

Take my clothes off in the dark
I wonder where this is all leading
In my sleep, you invade my dreams
memories swinging on worn-out bedsprings

I took a wrong turn last night
and drove past your house with its backdrop of fading sun

Your house, with children toys on the front lawn
I wonder what having a family with you would have been like

I suddenly felt pathetic, like a stalker, a trespasser
Like a sleazy peeping tom, I’m fueled with shame and excitement

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Pieces Of Light

The morning comes to fix another night

I took a road less traveled
Only to learn

To find myself
I had to take a wrong turn

The hotter the fire
The more beautiful the burn

The night comes crawling over a tired day

I want you in dreams
Falling pieces of light

You’ve walled up your heart
Like branches shredding a tattered kite

You’ve wandered to far
I went left, you went right

The morning comes to fix another night

No One Else Will Do

We were wearing out our summer jeans
Leaving holes in our worn out knees

We got caught in a thunder storm
Took shelter under evergreens

We were laughing and falling
Like end of the day alpine glow

Swore we’d leave this sleepy town
Fight the current or end up drowned

I put that old song on repeat
All summer we walked in bare-feet

With child eyes, you’re so pretty
Do you ever still think of me

You’ve still got a hold on me
You’re always just out of reach

I still look for you
In the eyes of strangers I meet

If I can’t have you
Nothing else will do, no one else will do
No one else will do———

Another ordinary sun
On not such an ordinary day

Thoughts of you
Run through me

There’s never any going back
Somewhere between awake and asleep

Here comes that empty feeling again
Taking me back to places I’d already been

Is that you, I saw on the street
Awkward small talk, staring at your feet

Spoke polite, like strangers who’d never met
You gave me a hug, that no longer fit

You’ve still got a hold on me
You’re always just out of reach

I still look for you
In the eyes of strangers I meet

If I can’t have you
Nothing else will do, no one else will do

No one else will do