Poetry - Spotazhazer

dude - now, really - ya never ever been poor
and generosity is a holiday metaphor
you may think you've come far
but it's cold where you are
still u wish upon a star
see
yer one of those people who
if it rarely ever even occurs to you
that ya don�t know what you�re talking about
ya don�t really care
cuz
you were young, one day
and you thought it was ok
to compromise your ideals
- to maybe get paid, laid
or saved from bein flayed
n ya thought ya got it made
when they bumped ya up a grade
but now yer consciousness is frayed
n ya don't even know ya been played
sokay
no one goes to hell jus for bein lame
but still
there is a tiny parasite deep within yer brain

welcome to the new dark ages
wide skies, wild eyes,
forgotten dreams, must not mean anything
somethin to sing

so no one's ever hearda me
from the way people talk, i thought everybody already knew everything about me
everything there is to know, at least more'n i ever will
n they were mostly unimpressed
or at least that's the general consensus
but i digress

if you only knew how frightened n depressed everything makes me
but if i'm not sposed to care about what people think about me
why do you care what i think ?
or what i have to bring
to these new dark ages
n crystal cages,
n untold rages that are the wages of my sin

n i'm doin it again
more'n i'll ever show
or anyone'll ever know
so where am i sposed to go ?

doesn't anyone see ?
how depressed n scared this all makes me ?
wouldn't anyone like to be
just a little bit more like me
just a little bit more free

n they say it's not good enough to be so tough
you hafta see what you can be, it's everyone's destiny
but i don't feel so ready to give up everything
for what somethin good can bring
a little gentle feeling
to these new crystal cages where i sing

and i wont be so alone among everything
when the best of remembering
is a little gentle feeling
amid these new dark ages where i still sing

n tho no one's ever hearda me
somewhere there's someone walkin feelin everything that i see
talkin exactly just like me
stalkin the same old leftover destiny, that i be

if you only knew how forgotten n molested i still feel
but if i'm not sposed to care what real it is i don't see, how else is it i should be ?
it's not about me, but does any of it have anything to do with bein free ?

so we walked along the avenue
n tried to hold on to not be so blue
we were taught to be strong for me n you
but everything flew away in the wind that was our destiny
an abrasive daydream
that if you could wake up from you would scream
but no one sez they aren't alone n really means it anymore
cuz what's left in store
our ultimate destiny
is the new dark ages where we will sing
n a tear our happy thoughts'll bring
when one of us tries to stop n think of gentle remembering
a little hollow feeling
of a more shallow being
when the new dark ages began to sing

so they sent us along with our proud little song
and a haunting little feeling that something was wrong
but i'm still sitting somewhere that i don't even know
but i'm surrounded by these four walls n i'm feeling that i should go
but i don't know anything like a reason why i should be
just a little bit more like somethin free
so i sit at the bar n wish upon a star
n get in my car n hope it's not far
n say take me back to my crystal cages at last
at least until the new dark ages've past
but if that's how it hasta be
n if it's our destiny
then i will try to be more free
n one day somethin more real maybe will i see

and so we enter the new dark ages at last
but thru these holy gates these broken dreamers shall not pass
left to the past with all the history that we have made
and when i die i shall be left unafraid

~ Assorted Mish Mash ~

he goes as himself on a shelf - well, who else and when there's no one left he retreats to the street he knows he can feel when it's real - yeah, big deal

"yer a guest on this planet, behave with grace or we'll jetisen you into outer space" - other than that, it's a very friendly place

i'm sure you've heard this many times before, and it's true there's only so much someone in even my enviable position can do

the only way that i can survive is if i really believe deep down inside that others like me are still alive somewhere out there beyond the great divide

you gotta stay on top of em, man they'll wriggle out of it any way they can

wishin they was already home talkin on their cell phone half of em are stoned gotta watch out on the road

what do you care? i'm justa ded man crying out in the street at least he's not dying - any more

Success Strategies for Songwriters
a bi-monthly column by Molly-Ann Leikin, songwriting consultant

Six Easy Steps to Writing Hit Lyrics
by Molly-Ann Leikin - Songwriting Consultant
http://www.songmd.com/html/archives/staff54.htm

Many songwriters tell me that melodies flow out of them like beer from a tap, but writing lyrics make them ache all over. I tell them they are in good company. Almost every other client shares their problem when they contact me. But the good news is I can fix this. I've developed a six-step system for lyric writing, aimed specifically at writers who claim they can't write words and don't consider themselves lyricists.

Melodies are open to interpretation - so when you write one, what you feel or intend is still safe in your heart - you do not have to reveal yourself or stand completely naked in front of the world. But once you put words to a tune, your feelings are totally out in the open. Everyone knows what's in your heart. Therefore, it's very inhibiting to write lyrics.

But here is a process I use with my clients to make lyric writing simple for them. There are six steps. I suggest you use all of them. Cutting corners is usually why a lyric doesn't work.

Let's assume, for this assignment only, that you have a melody but no idea of what to say in the lyric. In a future column, I'll gladly give you pointers on how to start a lyric if there isn't any music in your head.

But for now, you have a melody.

STEP l.

Play the melody you wrote, or choose one from the radio, writing non-rhyming prose as it plays. Let your words be a stream-of-conscious exercise to warm up your imagination. No rhymes. No logic. No continuity. All whimsy. Completely imaginative. Totally visual. Silly.

Playful.

"A tooth farmer from Fluffy, South Apricot, dug through Exxon's banana shoe section for kangaroo lingerie, after the De La Hoya/Trinidad wrist watch from Western Tire Cough Drops slid unnoticed into ..."

STEP 2.

Now we have you thinking and writing a little freer. Good. Let's close in a smidge. For step two, please write a silly, visual, non-rhyming lyric to the melody you've chosen. Fill it with ridiculous pictures, as I did in Step one. Don't be logical, don't make it make sense. Every line can be about something different. In this draft, try to keep yourself totally playful, and keep all the rhymes OUT. Here's an example, using the chorus of "I Don't Want to Miss A Thing" -

A lizard in algebra
Pigs on the 405
Bake chihuahuas
Serving footballs to Lindsay D

STEP 3.

Write an uncensored list of silly, visual titles that fit with the title line of your melody. Try to get twenty or thirty outrageous possibilities on your list. Don't write anything you've heard before, okay? Let 'em roll - don't say "Oh, that's dumb". Come on. Let 'em loose. You might find one of your ridiculous titles could actually be a real title. "I love you" is fine. But Jewel's "Swallow the Moon" is sensational. A great title will write the whole song for you. A mediocre one will leave you stranded in line two.

STEP 4.

Based on the title you've chosen, write the STORY of your song, in prose. Maybe writing it as a letter would be easier for you. If any words come out rhyming, change them so they don't. That way, you'll be able to express yourself with complete freedom - no constraints for rhyme or meter.

When you finish this step, you'll know the beginning, the middle and the end of your story before you begin the lyric. You'll also be able to see if you have enough story to fill a whole song, so you won't get stuck half-way through with nowhere to go.

In this step, you'll also be able to tell everything that happened - without worrying that you don't have enough room or time to include the whole saga. Tell the story - in as much detail as you want. Chances are you've never had this much freedom before as a story-teller in a song because lyrics are very spare, every syllable is critical and the lyric has to bow to the demands of the melody. So enjoy the freedom you have here to tell all, without worrying about time rhyme or syllables.

STEP 5.

Using your story, write a non-rhyming lyric to the melody you've chosen.

Remember - no rhymes.

STEP 6.

Now write the final lyric, with the story and the rhymes.

I suggest you try these six steps. Not four. Not two. Six. My clients who do all of them, get great results. The ones who don't are still claiming they can't write lyrics.

Just remember - writing is a process. The inspiration draft is just the first one - one of many - not the final product.

Have fun, good luck and let me know how you do, okay? I'm at [email protected]

Songwriting Consultant

         they told him to

in jail there sits a man 
who would not fight or grunt
or anything else that the money man wants

in jail there sits a man 
who would not hunt his fellow man
and that is what the money man wants
- check what the ghost of the money man haunts

they told him to
run n jump n move n duck n sit n spin n train n fly right
but he never got wired, he got too tired
n so he closed his eyes, n he realized
n flipped em off n sat on the ground
n for that they stuffed him in a hole
surrounded by an 80 foot stone wall
barbed wire n guard towers n guns
but sometimes he still sits in the sun

they told him to shade n braze his eyes
but he never got wise, he was despised
cuz to aim n fire wasn't his desire
n whatever he'd decide, he would die
n so he flipped em off n jus sat on the ground
so they hit him with the butt of a standard issue gun
n they kicked in his head until he wished he was dead
but the men in the setting sun were having too much fun
with the dud n the blood n the mud n the crud n the flood ...

in the ground they plant a man 
who would not hunt his fellow man
cuz that is what the money man wanted
- n now, by whom, is the money man haunted

	jellyfish mama

gramma wuzza jellyfish
- my cuzin izza plankton
- my cuzin izza plant
grampa wuzza comet's tail
- my cuzin izza nebula
- my unkle izza galaxy

my dragons are a fantasy
although they act like friends to me
n if they ask for favors, please
we'll all question my sanity
my widdle sanity
indeed, indeed

dirty dusty change-purse windblown
desert sandy sandstone currency coke machine
message method madness magic
master mechanoid sadness tragic
whatever happened to my beloved rocket sled ?
it is dead
nah, not dead - jus sleeping ?

The Vogon began to read 
- a fetid little passage of his own devising.

"Oh frettled gruntbuggly ..." he  began. 
 Spasms  wracked  Ford's body 
- this was worse than ever he'd been prepared for.

"... thy micturations are to me 
As plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee."

"Aaaaaaarggggghhhhhh!" went Ford Prefect, wrenching his head back
as  lumps  of  pain thumped through it. He could dimly see beside
him Arthur lolling and rolling  in  his  seat.  He  clenched  his teeth.

"Groop I  implore  thee,"  
continued  the  merciless  Vogon, 
"my foonting turlingdromes."

His voice was rising to a horrible pitch of impassioned stridency.    
"And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon, 
see if I don't!"

contemplation � contemplation � contemplation

	alien space things fuck off you slimey bastards endless peace 'n joy	hair of the dog share of the log bear of the grog aware of the cog stare of the sog dare of the hog care of the zog lair of the fog fair of the bog pair of the nog mare of the blog scare of the agog beware of the smog
			ban the man fight where you stand and always have a back up plan

	A tree remembers every leaf underneath
	Meanwhile if I don�t watch my step I could end up the victim of accidental death