Monday, May 17, 2010

My Singing Bucket

"Not Singing that Song"

Let it be
There was a song, saying so
Over and over
Words I think I oughta know
But so what? It's easy to sing to the music
Not so easy to really do it
and I'm sorry it's not my design
There's too much sorrow
and stress and confusion
and rude boys full of fake illusions
and the selfishness of petty people
but there was a song once
I don't sing
There's a saying about being still
and trusting God
and I keep saying but the words
just seem so faint
It's not my fault that this whole world
seems to conspire against me
Let it be
But that just isn't me
but they all sing
I figure times are a bit cloudy and
the moon may hide her light
but the reality is harsher in the bright
of the day's light
and somebody in their wisdom said something
we all think we get
But I'm not happy yet
Not quite happy yet
it's all postcards of promises
and indulgent foolish boys
and the emptiness of pocket books
and the absence of pure joys
it's the retarded little happy maker's setting
off to work
and the silly little window sitter's making
others look
Let it be, let it be
it's not the concept I perceived
Where is the justice in this silence?
we all hold our tongues in check
Let it be is not for me
nor was stillness nor fighting
I am tired of the world tossing stones
at me
It's ok and I'll be fine and in the rattling
of my weary mind
I'll accept that wisdom of that song...
...but just won't say it yet


"My Storm"

Take it back...
I don't want it no more, I said, I said
Yes, I said it
Take it back...
It doesn't feel anymore, I said, I said
I have said it
But then suddenly like the storm on the sea
there was raucous inside of my soul
You made the waves and the turbulence here
and somehow inside the madness I'm whole
It is deeper and rising and waves crashing;
but inside this chaos I'm whole
inside this chaotic soul



scrabbling for a crumb inside this bucket
no one ever thinks to put more in
and i'm faltering with nothing, so forget it
and this time i am despairing, ragged, thin
and i am unsure of the meaning inside all this
and i cannot face the concept i can't win
so forgetting i have nothing in this bucket
i'll reach my hand inside once again
pray to God i'll pull out something precious
despite i am despairing, ragged, thin
but there is never merit in saying screw this
so i'll stick my hand in the bucket again


All by Elizabeth Azpurua

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