Featuring the works of Bill Bogert
by Bill Bogert
wanderlust upon me now,
time to hit the road
cruising on from burg to burg
lightening my load
work for food and stop for gas
a friend in every town
start her up and point the way
no chance to lay her down
furnace heat, and cold hard rain
driving me along
mangy dogs and dirty kids
a smile and a song
why's the heart so hard to please
the mind so far afield
these miles go by but never leave
my wanderlust revealed
by Bill Bogert
I strayed outside, looked at the sky and there fell the rain.
Lit up a Marlboro, took it all in and felt better about the day.
Never in my life, in my years all these years, had I felt this way.
Tired, defeated, lost and old, but hopeful in the rain.
The Northwestern sky looked cold and blew wet, extinguishing my glow.
I tried to draw in again, to milk another drag of life, caught myself in the window.
I saw through my reflection and looked deep through the glass
at a home that’s not mine and some scenes of the past.
My folks are old and my grandparents long gone.
I used to sit with them in chairs and play games on the lawn.
A Midwestern sky was deep blue and the grass was all green.
The houses all had porches, and the siding was clean.
Small children I knew once ran and fell down,
they chased dogs and kicked balls on the Iowa ground.
We played stick ball with corn cobs and and batted runs in,
then all the fun stopped when my dad called us in.
When I was younger still, back East in Spackenkill Heights,
There was a girl there I kissed under the buggy street lights.
I learned some things there, some ugly, some good,
all things that kids learned in the old neighborhood.
by Bill Bogert
I lost my way a time ago,
I wandered around in San Diego.
My friends were there,
they left me there in San Diego.
I hopped a bus, I walked alone,
I ambled here and there.
I lived a lifetime or a day,
I had breakfast in her home.
I combed her hair, we had some food,
she smiled at me too.
She's with me here and stays around,
no matter where I roam.
She cried so hard, she loved me mad,
she couldn't come with me.
I know she helped me on my way,
her tears they set me free.
Another time, in San Diego, I piloted a bus,
or tried to anyway.
I couldn't turn the key to save my life,
I lost it on that day.
I was invisible and had no shoes and
needed to go home.
Instead again I landed back to where
I first set out to roam.
The blues had captured me as I played my harp,
naked in the night.
Amazing Grace I knew by heart,
I walked her guiding light.
The boneyard came to life at night,
the tune it played so sweet.
Awake the dead, rise up they did,
they danced right on the street.
At daybreak's landing, there was a pool,
again I met the blues.
I hitched a ride, I felt the sting,
and asked where are my shoes?
Calming down, falling asleep
after so many years,
I met her once again, the girl I left,
her many saving tears.
The whole thing is, there's trouble there,
right there in San Diego.
A hive of bees, a nest of vipers,
he walks around in San Diego.
I fled the place, my gun in hand,
I could have shot him dead.
"It's an eye contact thing", he looked at me
and shone them to me red.
I took no life that night you know,
I could have had a few.
He would have laughed, his head wide open,
"what did you just do?"
Instead I ran away and got the blues
to sing me to my home.
I did my time and walked away
from Vista's Thunderdome.
I made this up you know, all of this shit,
to see where it could go.
After writing for days and days,
no matter where I start it ends in San Diego.
by Bill Bogert
blank page staring back at me,
"dare you to write something that doesn't suck"
so i play its game,
grasping for something that doesn't suck too hard
this tripe that fills these spaces here,
ain’t no poet, ain't no bard
there's things to say, and stuff to write,
and words to hear for sure
there's music and there's poetry,
there's art and there is this
there's beauty, pain and in between,
all sealed with a kiss
is nothing sacred anymore,
is nothing left untouched?
words for writers,
statues for sculptors, canvas for Van Gogh
this is just a try to fill a page
with words that do not blow
(wind rushes in… mocking…)
by Bill Bogert
the last thing i heard was the pin hit the cap
the last thing i did was pull the trigger back
memories in motion flying through air
dreams, bone and blood all mixed together there
last thing i saw was you smiling at me
days end and what happens next guess i'll see
life filled with days ends so quick here for me
glimpse of tears rolling down faces and shame
they're all better off now without this man's name
by Bill Bogert
The night is young,
it's loud and fraught with violence and with lust.
The night is full of drunken pounding,
bass tones, stench of spilled beer and puke.
Smoke wafting through your head, squealing girls,
wrong guys, they put their trust.
Loud voices, bragging tattoos,
knuckles "love" and "hate", which one's for you?
"Laugh Now, Cry Later",
masks of confusion and wrong choices chosen.
"Mad dog me bitch and I'll bury your ass,
what the fuck you gonna do?"
Little girls who look for something,
true love or just a good time.
Bad boys looking for little girls to hold,
to make them feel like men.
The night takes grip with its own intent,
sole witness to the crime.
Sweet soft petals, ripped sharply from their faces,
smiles gone forever.
Grow up fast, better grow up fast,
dim that light, and just pretend.
Tears last forever, old foes,
old friends, the saltiness and sorrow blend.
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