Mon tag (monday? my day ? just a tag...)

Tags in the air, and bits of music float through on a sultry breeze as I try to say what I don't want to say.


I am

I said
to no one there
and no one heard
not even the chair
(Neil Diamond)


I dance

in the moonlight
after a scathing fight


I sing

for my supper when I can't eat


I cry

with the wolves in the waking dawn


I am not always

who I am


I make with my hands

what I can't with my head


I write

like a spider crawling over a page


I confuse

the stars with the earth

.............................................................................

Much said.

That song again , that won't let me go.
Bless the Beatles.


I am thinking about

reading your mind

She's not a girl who misses much
Do do do do do do- oh yea!


I said

try me

She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand
Like a lizard on a window pane


I want to

clobber

The man in the crowd with the multicoloured mirrors
On his hobnail boots


I wish

he wasn't

Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy
Working overtime


I hear

he did the unthinkable

A soap impression of his wife which he ate
And donated to the National Trust


I need

a fix 'cause I'm going down
Down to the bits that I left uptown


I regret

Mother Superior jumped the gun


I wonder

if

Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun, momma


and finally

When I hold you in my arms
And I feel my finger on your trigger
I know nobody can do me no harm

Because happiness is a warm gun
-Yes it is.

Happiness is a warm, yes it is...


tag if you will, tag if you wont
you say you do, you say you don't.

And now that I've bared my soul- you know why this blog is called what it is!