The Wrinkling Up Years

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There was that time, you remember now, when the puppets all sang

For the strangers in the know, and dreadful silly lines took all the

Virgin’s souls, and the dancers raced thru their dance upon the stage,

And the curtain lifted once, but not a single one got paid

 

We told little stories, just to set the story straight, but we lied

And we joked about the timing and the place, and no one even

Cared that we were all past our best bloom, cause the waiter

Carried trays of spirits to us in every tiny room

 

She was a Jezebel, but she put on quite the act, and the guys

Got all excited when she revealed her tiny rack, but the

Girls in the corner stayed around in the back to allow the

Summer haze to fill the space their ego lacked

 

Don’t you remember Henry and the smile on his face when

The fields were full of poppies and the houses full of grace,

When prayers lifted high to disguise the saints’ disgrace

We keep praying now for the memories that we chase

Life at 13

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The plastic chairs in the outdated kitchen

Stuck to the back of our legs, sticky lemonade

Dripping from laughing mouths of young

Girls gathered for summer fun in

Carrie Elizabeth’s kitchen; we wondered

But didn’t know how our lives would end up,

 

How Sandy would get pregnant in three years,

Or that Ellen would be killed by her boyfriend in 10,

That I’d find myself drunk and lost a week later in a

Grocery store parking lot because there were no lines

To follow;

 

Nah, we were talking about kissing with tongue,

The radio blaring songs that revealed our generation

Was a mixed up mess of bands soon to be labeled

Classic rock and pop stars soon to pop over lyrics

As stupid as their haircuts, guessing the name of the guy

We’d marry, playing games like truth or dare to find

Out who knew the most about sex and drugs; we didn’t

Know shit about shit, but isn’t that what was cool about

Being a kid in a small town?

 

Life just around the corner, and

Had we known what was coming we’d been

Scared to death, maybe even afraid to

Leave those plastic chairs, but that’s why

It’s good not to know what’s coming;

Fearlessness isn’t always chosen, it’s given

By a merciful God who sees the falls

And knows the trials and allows the breaks

That threatens our tiny existence; gives us

The Unknown as a gift to keep going, so

We can giggle and laugh and talk about

Kissing with tongue at 13.

 

 

(photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/4552812224/”>dianecordell</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;)

Never…

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I never knew the secret whispers of the wind

Or the reckless urge to kiss a stranger

I never knew the solace of simplicity

Or the gentle hold of a workingman’s arms

But I know these things in you;

 

I know truth and grace and need

I welcome the uncomfortable

Surge of unspoken requests from my

Passionate cravings; allow me

To drift into your embrace for one

Momentary lapse of sensibility

 

I shouldn’t speak of my desire

For your nectar, sweet on my lips,

Forbidden thoughts and like

Electric currents, they are

Intended to exploit a charge

 

(photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/idansimpson/104946216/”>iDanSimpson</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;)

Retreating

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Sometimes we get off track, chasing shiny things

We think it’s what we want, we think it’s what we need

We act like someone we’re not, the ego gets in the way

Lesson learned, and we return, wiser at the end of the day

No sense in beating yourself up, no sense in getting down

Be glad for sinking sand, let’s you recognize solid ground

The Wildflower Effect

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And she stood, spindly-legged and reaching for the sun, her arms skinny stems and leaves bruised by the thorns of the roses that surrounded her, her petals imperfect, yet she grew tall and strong, and as she pushed through the woody perennials and their crude prickles, her bloom was the one that stood out from the gardener’s ribbon-winning varieties. Her bloom was the one admired by the passersby, and it was her bloom that outshone all the darling buds once believed to hold perfection in their petals. It was her bloom that thrived out of pure determination and the heart of a wildflower.

 

 

(photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jenny-pics/5691264508/”>jenny downing</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;)

An Inspired Woman

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She is everything, subtle and bold

She is the tiger and the tamer,

The demon and the soul

A little girl, dancing in the rain

A woman full on, rising from a flame

 

(photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/pensiero/229011032/”>Pensiero</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;)

Good Girl

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I haven’t posted a song lyric in a while, and maybe it’s a stretch to call this one, but here it is:

 

Danger’s in your wayward kiss

Filled with hunger, tastes of bliss

Get me to a safer place

The trap, the cage, is your embrace

 

You’re the myth I believed

I took a bite of love-lost grief

Gotta leave this place behind

Gotta find some peace of mind

 

Tell me how we were both wrong

Seems to be your favorite song

In a single solitary sigh

What once was truth became a lie

 

I was no saint but e’er I sinned for a foolish boy with a cocky grin

The ways you taught me ne’er I been, what we were won’t be again

Hope you’ve learned from all we had, never make a good girl go bad

 

If I could get to where you are

A sad state is where I’d be

I’ll stay happy where I am

Only misery loves company

 

I’ve prayed the Lord my soul to keep, resting easy in my sleep

You no longer feed my dreams, the price I paid much too steep

Hope you’ve learned from all we had, never make a good girl go bad