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Turn up the radio, this song's about me.
You probably don't remember it,
I'm younger than you,
But when I heard it with my all alone ears
And my all alone thoughts
And my high school heart
I knew it was written for me.
Listen very closely, dear, she sings about me.
Because I thought I knew that
anger when I was stupid-young.
And I thought I knew that keening
pain after another long dark day
of turned heads and whispers.
And I knew she was singing for me.
Okay, wait for the next line...the line she screams...
Did you hear it? Do you see what she means?
I guess I forgot, or I never knew why...
Was I really that seperate?
Was I really that foolish?
To think that pain got no worse
than laughs at my hopeful smiles,
or grimaces at my open hands.
And I thought she was singing for me.
I know what you are thinking, dear.
We all were alone in ourselves,
alone in the middle of the soft, growing hearts.
But it hurts now to listen
to my underestimated pain of my youth,
although I have found safety in your arms.
And I guess you don't see how
she could sing of that
when the girl I was has left,
and the woman I am stands beside you.
But she was...turn it off...she was singing of me.
My dear Popcorn Maker,
I must say farewell
To your yellowy kernels,
Your buttery smell.
Was it wrong from the start?
Was our love to be denied
By the ravages of war,
By the changing of tides...
When I saw you in the catalogue
My heart skipped and sang
And throughout the land
My joyous voice rang:
"I want you! I need you!
We have been away far too long"
But a foul penny-pincher
Cringed at my song.
And so he returned you,
Sent you packing, away
To that Heavenly Warehouse
Where you remain to this day.
I shall never know your crunchiness,
The salty, the sweet.
But if the gods smile upon us,
Perhaps we shall meet.
I hear you crying "Eat Me!"
As so many others do,
But your pleas shall go unanswered
'Til I am reunited with you...
Our Honey Bee
Of BPE
Can soothe harsh souls
So easily
And when I see
That crazy Bee
I say "Hey Girl!"
Most lovingly
Although that Bee
Digs the Twin Cities
She should travel North
To visit ME
Quite readily
Most handily
Kicking my ass in Hearts
That wicked Bee
So I say to thee
My Sister Bee
I love you lots
(But not sexually)
Hee hee hee hee
Bee Bee Bee Bee
Blah blah blah blah
The End, you see.
My sweet Club members,
Though popcorn may come and go
I can draw you near.
Magni loves Chevys.
Popcorn trouble? Forgiven.
Cherry blossom Mags.
The voice in my head
Becomes my own best friend
As I am dragged to the
Fourth bar of the night.
"It's not going to kill you,
Nothing bad shall happen.
You can watch all the people.
You look great in this light!"
But I still groan when I get there,
Squeezed into these people.
These young, fresh people.
There is no end in sight.
Oh, I don't want to be here.
Her hair is so funky,
Her dress is so perfect.
Her make-up is just right.
I watch my friends dancing,
I should just keep drinking.
I can jump with the best of them
When I'm as high as a kite.
But as I look a bit closer
I see that the dance floor
Is littered and sticky
With kids packed in tight.
I suddenly realize
Just what I'm not missing,
I'm not lonely sitting here,
Not bemoaning my plight.
So what, I don't like it!
I don't HAVE to like it,
I'm not looking for someone
To go home with tonight.
And that thought is so freeing!
And I feel so much lighter,
Revelation settles in,
And my concerns take flight.
I am a grown up, you see,
And I can drink with the girls
And dance with my friends
And fight the good fight.
But I am not racing to find
A man to be my lover,
And I see that summary
May seem a bit trite.
But that IS what they are after,
My poor lonely girlfriends
These poor lonely sisters,
Some married, (but not tonight).
I have what they want here
I see him in my head,
He is telling me I am beautiful
And he is holding me tight.
Her name was Honey
She was a Noyer
With fuzzy pollen in her hair
A stinger long enough to scare-
She would chat all day
And cards she would play,
Once when she tried to make her meld
Jayer leaned across and yelled:
"Why can't we just play War?
I've played from eight til four!
I am young and I have to potty,
I can't play ANY MORE!"
In the Clubhouse
Clubhouse of Noyers
The slyest folks East of
Tom Sawyer
*HERE*
In the Clubhouse
Clubhouse of NOYers...
Postings and Poems
(Don't we all have homes?)
In the Clubhouse...Don't lose a glove...
His name was Greedo,
He wore a costume.
It was big and soft and green,
And he only made the scene
To piss off Wolfie,
And sometimes Magni,
And though he tried to win our Bee
She would often say "Hee Hee"
And run to Tinker's arms
(It's those Lesbos charms)
Careful not to tick her off,
Bees are prone to swarms...
At the Clubhouse,
Clubhouse of Noyers
Just thank god that we aren't
All lawyers-
*HERE*
At the Clubhouse,
Clubhouse of NOYers
It's the Lags and the Boot,
Well, goddamn, what a hoot!
At the Clubhouse...who ate my glove?
Her name was Princess,
She was a Toy Princess,
She stopped to tilda one day,
Saying she would stay away.
But here comes Marti,
She knows better.
Marti let the little Toy girl know
That we really miss her so-
They inspired this song
Which has gone on too long
So I shall end it with the chorus
Tell me, is that so wrong?
At the Clubhouse,
Clubhouse of Noyers,
I'm glad I'm a girl not a boyer
*HERE*
At the Clubhouse,
Clubhouse of NOYers
I've run out of rhyming words,
So I'll sing what you've heard
At the CLUBHOUSE...I want my glove.
I came home today
Shaking, warm,
So full of tears
They sat aching in my throat
Walked into our bedroom
And saw the space
Your body left in our bed
I held your pillow
Tight, like I would hold you...
I want one more time,
Just once more, please
That's not too much,
To hold your hand
To stroke your back
As you lay sleeping
Next to me...
One more time
Because you are so strong
And I didn't know this morning
That you wouldn't be here tonight
And you might not be here again
Laying on that little bed
Taken away, you were gone so quickly
You were so sad for me
Because you knew I would have to
Come back here, alone
And it's not fair
And it's not right
And I love you so much
And I am so scared...
So please, just one more time
To hold your hand
To watch you walk to me
To kiss you and whisper love
And forever in your ear
I don't want to be left in this house
With your clothes, your dishes,
your smells everywhere
And not you.
I don't want to be left alone
If I can have just once more,
Please...
One more time.
Creeping, creeping
Here you are again.
In my mind, in my day.
I gather little pieces of
Silly little things,
I save them to tell you.
I know you can't be here,
But I pretend anyway,
I smile as I walk down the street,
just in case.
Sometimes, to fall asleep
I paint pictures in my head of
Impossible meetings, amazing coincidence.
A forum like this encourages foolish words,
Flowery talk, unreasonable endearments.
But we drew our lines clearly.
In this sweet mood of love
I can only do the right thing,
I can just say thank you,
and hope you know what I mean.
A Little Something
Goodbye, Popcorn Maker
An Ode To Honey Bee
Haikus
How To Grow Old Gracefully
The Clubhouse of Noyers
A Plea
Small and Quiet for You
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