This Time

(bluesy type song)

take a chance, girl
don’t be stupid this time
take a chance, girl
you won’t be stupid this time

you don’t what to do
he sings her praises in bed
he doesn’t think of you
and it’s getting to your head

take a chance, girl
don’t be stupid this time
you don’t stand a chance, girl
but at least you’ll know why

well I’ll tell you what to do
when he plays with your mind
don’t let it get to you
and see what else you can find

take a chance, girl
don’t be stupid this time
one hard romance, girl
can only kill you one time

you don’t what to do
he sings her praises in bed
he’ll never think of you
he thinks of nothing instead

you took a chance, girl
you weren’t stupid this time
di’n’t stand a chance, girl
so stop wastin’ your time
stop wastin’ your time
stop wastin’, wastin’ your time

      

     

Copyright L.M. 2008.

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The Impossible Point

Philosophy came early to me; I guess I always used to think a lot.  When it came time to sharpen my pencil, I’d often stare at the sharpest tip I could make, and realize how it was still rounded.  That’s when I came up with my Impossible Point idea.  Of course, it wasn’t new, and it certainly wasn’t Earth-shattering.  But it was at an early age, and without outside influence.  I just thought a lot.  I’d try to tell my friends (the ones who thought for themselves) and they would argue that no, I just wasn’t sharpening it enough.  They didn’t get it.

It was through those eyes that I realized how things aren’t always as they seem; when under a magnifying glass, everything changes.  Or, sometimes, it’s the exact opposite.  Sometimes, when looking too hard, when focusing too much on something near, you miss the main picture — you entirely miss the point.

And it’s always important to see the point….. rounded or not.

Surprise visit

eww! gross bug! creepy creepy creepy creepy eww!!

[I laughed so hard I thought I’d include this.  Kingston bugs: creep out even the most loving entomologist!]

Because

it’s time to jump
cross this two-tined road
underlined with ridicule
segregated to different fields
it must be hard
to question eternally
to suffer so deeply
the scars of a thousand words
a thousand wounds
instead, you meander
o’er for a gander
and with one fowl motion
recommence all commotion

Copyright L.M. 2007.  (Why did the chicken cross the road?)