Tag Archives: lyrics

Personal Cougar

Lyrics, Copyright 2015 by Boinkaz

🎼Autumn trees and laughing pouts
sun snaked hudson slinking south
And Staten Island Ferry dawns
This is a New York wave.

She moved like butter through her day
a clever lady twice my age
sidestepping the serrated grave
that comes with middle-age.

Past lives exist to still our minds
crossroads that we have crucified
a quiet cottage by the sea
or lovers lost on winds of time

Age roulette is played by some
love gamblers dream they’ll show the young
how passion’s knots are tied and slung
til tears and arches fall

Our ashes are the sweeper’s keep
and though our time is brief we seek
to sow at least what we have reaped
with one to love who loves.

Past lives exist to still our minds
crossroads that we have crucified
a noisy party on the street
with lovers lost on winds of time.

Horizontal desperation
this must be life’s sexless station
I look better dressed than naked
pater familias me.

I shot my personal cougar
with my sarcasm and my youth
my vicious tongue, a hunting gun,
I’m sure she never missed.

It’s true that now I know her plight
my darling cougar of the night
for I myself am known to prowl
among the dynamite.

New lives exist to still our minds
crossroads that we will crucify
with misdirection so well spent
with lovers on new winds of time🎼

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Czel’s Bells –> Jacqueline’s Challenge @jacqueline_czel #poetry #lyrics

© By Boinkaz

The poet, novelist, and musician Jacqueline Czel had the temerity to thrown down a poetic challenge: to come up with a nursery rhyme by week’s end. This is my response.

When I grow up

When I grow up
I want to be
a lobbyist
in old DC
I’ll buy my clients
public goods
like leases, airwaves, national woods.

For Congressmen are not enough
and they’re butt ugly in the buff.

When I grow up
I want to go
to torture in Guantanimo
I’ve dreamed of killing for the Cross
to show the Muslims who is boss.

For the rule of law is not enough.
Spare me the civil liberties guff.

When I grow up
I want to be
the TV’s prime reality
I’ll share my “trauma”
while stark naked
of how for 20 years I faked it.

For war and famine’s not enough.
My struggle makes those whiners tough.

Over to you Miss J!

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