Oh, Beautiful
When I was young and shorter,
I made a boy angry by having a crush
And writing him notes so
One day he had his boys pin
Me down so he dared to throw that
One good punch before I kicked
His ass back to the fourth grade
Where he could learn some manners

Just recently a little
Girl I'm sure was pure of spirit made a boy
Angry who had a crush
That wasn't heeded by her, so
One day he had his boys pull the
Alarm while he waited at
A distance, hidden from the
Girls he picked off one by one.

Oh, beautiful for spacious skies
For amber waves of grain
For training young boys faithfully
And old granddad's tech-nine.
America, America
Seems God gave up on thee
And "Brotherhood's" misunderstood,
But, hey, at least we're free.

Ode to Dawg I
He's the brother it's okay to kiss
And the father it's okay not to fear
He's the friend who doesn't have to "understand"
He can love me confused and confounded
That's my Dawg making me laugh
Its okay, I'm with him
Don't worry, we're fine here
I just got some love in my eye
And it tickles my brain
He's the voice of reason and rhymes
And the sobering sound of encouragement
He's the challenge that's never
Quite beyond my reach
I can love him unexplained and unashamed
That's my Dawg smiling like that
It's okay because he's with me
Thanks, really, we're fine here
I just got some love in my eye
And can't stop giggling

open
sometimes it just doesn't matter how much you open yourself to people. . .

well it does matter, it matters to you . . . you're the only one who really knows how much effort it takes to extend your words as if a physical piece of yourself . . . only you are in tune with the pain when the words are cut off . . . only you see the wordblood . . . and sometimes there is so much blood you think "my goddess, they have got to be able to see this, it's making a damn mess all over the floor here" . . .

and you get frustrated and maybe you get angry because you feel so inept that you can't express the pain with out the frustration coloring it in an unflattering way . . . and suddenly reaching out in kindness or love or something positive has turned into an ugly hot miserable thing . . .

and the next time there is a call out to you, maybe you remember this . . . and maybe you keep your words to yourself . . .

but then you are just empty.