tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35266876990576637442023-11-15T05:29:15.261-08:00LOGBERG in MOTOWNLOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-37775325306566516872011-06-26T04:59:00.000-07:002011-06-29T17:59:36.674-07:00June 26, 2011 7:58AM-<div>While I pack my camp gear</div><div>I try hard to imagine what you would say</div><div>I was missing, something I wouldn't</div><div>Even know I forgot until I needed it.</div><div>You would probably like my tent,</div><div>I think, as Ann and I practice</div><div>Putting it up and taking it down</div><div>At least once or twice, to prepare.</div><div>Here in the front yard, it seems</div><div>Like a futile excersise, but I know</div><div>You would agree with the theory.</div><div><br /></div><div>I sometimes still think as I push open</div><div>The garage door, I will see your hand</div><div>Outstretched, palm out.</div><div>I wait to hear you call my name,</div><div>To greet me with that excitement in your voice.</div><div>And maybe a tiny bit of resentment</div><div>That it had been two or three days since the last visit.</div><div>You would probably ask for a can of gasoline.</div><div><br /></div><div>I never did, but now, I would probably ask you</div><div>To share your can of Skoal. I wish</div><div>We would have done that, when we still could.</div><div>I wish we would have gone camping.</div><div>I know you were tired, and ready to go-- to be honest.</div><div>I know I would have selfishly pushed you through it,</div><div>But on the other end, we would have both been better,</div><div>And I'd have had a few more memories to hold onto.</div><div>I wish you would have met my wife. She only knows</div><div>The picture of you at Jason's wedding</div><div>That I haven't decided where to hang quite yet.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know it's never long enough,</div><div>But in your case, it really wasn't.</div><div>All these people that have come along</div><div>Like your great-gandson, who shares your name--</div><div>I wonder if he would call you Pappaw--</div><div>Or later on if he would spell it like</div><div>I do, or with an L, or like mom does--</div><div>All these people now in our lives,</div><div>And those not yet arrived,</div><div>Would not hope to be here, were it not for you.</div><div>We would not be who we are without your love.</div><div>And they owe your thier happiness, as we do</div><div>Though they have never met you.</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-24320273286020115382010-04-29T18:15:00.001-07:002010-04-29T18:15:30.973-07:00December 12, 2009, after midnight<div>As the winter dustings settle in.</div><div>As we spend Tuesdays hanging stockings</div><div>And Thursdays trimming trees-- hanging lights.</div><div>I know more than I did yesterday</div><div>That you are all I was meant for.</div><div><br /></div><div>Between Santa hats and small disputes,</div><div>I hope I can find enough time to tell you</div><div>How much I love you. Between 7am coffee</div><div>And staring for 120 seconds before you awake,</div><div>I hope I can shine a light on you</div><div>Like you have done for me every day.</div><div>I hope I can show, I was meant for you.</div><div><br /></div><div>And we were meant for two man Friday nights.</div><div>The bitter sting of salty Tequila shots,</div><div>The permentant smiles are setting in.</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-6204262018942388722009-12-26T17:21:00.000-08:002009-12-26T17:22:20.878-08:00<div>If I could say how I feel it would certainly scare you.</div><div>They aren't mere words, they are pulses of love.</div><div>Electric vines entwined between your lips and mine.</div><div>It could not be more simple-- this is love.</div><div>Love beyond greeting cards. It surpasses</div><div>Shakespeare, it could not be acted or played out</div><div>In any way, it could only be you and I,</div><div>On a train from Rome to Venice, with</div><div>My head on your lap, your hand in my hair.</div><div><br /></div><div>It can't be written out in detail, but I could show you.</div><div>If I could take a picture</div><div>Of your hand, wrapped inside of mine.</div><div>Your shoulder tucked below my arm.</div><div>Your cheek against my body, softly.</div><div>Your heart inside my heart.</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-90782155906413333672009-08-26T19:54:00.001-07:002009-08-26T19:54:59.500-07:00August 26, 2009<div>I've got you hanging on my wall.</div><div>I've got you buzzing in my ear.</div><div>I've got you wrapped around</div><div>The corners of my mind</div><div>And on it all the time.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've come this far for only you.</div><div>I've been waiting for so long.</div><div>I've got drawers packed full</div><div>Of greeting cards. I've got</div><div>Poems, I've got songs, I've got you.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've got love tight inside my pocket.</div><div>I've got a hard grip on tomorrow.</div><div>I've got you to look forward to.</div><div>I've got much more than I would ask for.</div><div>I've got you hanging on my wall.</div><div><br /></div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-67793837533446146722009-08-23T19:56:00.000-07:002009-08-23T19:59:23.907-07:00August 22, 2009 - the beginning of AnnieYou may have spoke too soon,<div>But I'm feeling just the same as you.</div><div>You are beautiful, you taste like my</div><div>Dreams coming true. Your taste</div><div>Fascinates me. Your laugh, your shape</div><div>As you climb out of bed, your smile,</div><div>Your head on my lap. I miss</div><div>You every minute you are away,</div><div>But you say "soon enough"</div><div>You will be here, be mine,</div><div>Be my baby blue eyes.</div><div>And we will run off after the sunrise.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've been waiting for you.</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-49156589614203620892009-08-23T19:50:00.000-07:002009-08-23T19:56:04.662-07:00You left like sunset,<div>Squeezed behind the hill,</div><div>Regretting our last mistaken goodbye.</div><div>A breeze licked the raindrops from the rail,</div><div>As the sun beating broke the scilence</div><div>Of a Saturday afternoon aglow.</div><div>Full of dancing limbs, and telephone poles.</div><div>A warm aroma oozes out to air.</div><div>The summer melts around me; wet, dripping,</div><div>Heat-soaked with laughter not yet opened up.</div><div>A fine moment this would be, with company,</div><div>Easy chatter, like spilled drinks un-noticed.</div><div><br /></div><div>A slender cloud on the horizon, cut</div><div>Deep into the distance, I wonder what.</div><div>Closing out the sunshine, with eyelids shut.</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-52525092625403948382009-08-23T19:46:00.000-07:002009-08-23T19:50:06.153-07:00It was the last time<div>I heard your voice.</div><div>The pitchy frustration,</div><div>A cliff's edge</div><div>A crash of satly tear-waves below.</div><div>A year I waited</div><div>And you slid into my bed</div><div>With enough ease to</div><div>Make me wonder. After</div><div>Months, I ran out of poems</div><div>That I hadn't already read to you.</div><div>You grew bored, rushed off</div><div>To a walkaway.</div><div>It was the last time.</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-69651394237749841462009-08-23T19:35:00.000-07:002009-08-23T19:46:53.556-07:00the roomies, early 2007James lays lazily watching a TV commercial<div>Selling a television, or lipstick; pink I think.</div><div>I think, this might be thunder rolling in;</div><div>Crashing, like dishes dirty in the sink.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think, Kevin must be on his way, soon enough.</div><div>Last minute Lora, kissing enough to last</div><div>Until Friday. Next week will be moving in tomorrow.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think, I might be hoping</div><div>For a late night call from you. Like last night's</div><div>Drunken, backwards, half-hearted apoligy (insulting).</div><div>I'm remembering my cousin's laugh, sudden and true.</div><div>I think of you, when I think of </div><div>Almost anything. Surprise, surprise.</div><div><br /></div><div>Shuffling off, grey shoes, near</div><div>The chair I slept in last night. We</div><div>Were right on track with midnight love</div><div>Making, to making steps towards birthday dinners,</div><div>Book discussions, rushing off after sleeping in too late.</div><div>I think, I give up on this.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think, winning isn't worth it after all.</div><div>I catch a break between two moments</div><div>To consider your side. I find a breath,</div><div>Breatjing you out, without much regret,</div><div>Forget, forget, forget, we ever met.</div><div>And everyone laughs, the funny scene between the trees,</div><div>The polka-dot chair peeking through the screen.</div><div>I think, this is as far as I can get.</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-23862626992717691142009-07-30T19:37:00.000-07:002009-07-31T00:24:59.054-07:00RAAAWWRRR its Sargeras!below is a sonnet from the greatest known world crushing poet, <a href="http://www.cwsargeras.com/">Sargeras</a><div><br /></div><div>Enjoy...<br /><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;font-size:16px;">They're not afraid of me. Their jackal-cries<br />And leaps, and shield-wall rattles are unfeigned,<br />Their iron-shod angry spear-tips upward trained<br />Perchance to pierce my black, unarmored eyes.<br />They're not afraid. Nor would I be, though I<br />Were mortal e'en as they, and small as they<br />And knew my sun had wheeled its final day<br />Across a singed and melancholy sky.<br />(It's over.) In the distance fades the roar<br />Of my lieutenants, whose unruly song<br />Gloats throaty over trophies, braying long.<br />I fly instead to silence at the core,<br />Whose still-warm glowing rivers lurch and braid<br />And tumble at my eyebrows unafraid.</span></div></div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-64861625107602376142009-07-10T19:21:00.001-07:002009-07-10T19:21:19.599-07:00<div>If sweetness could burn</div><div>I'd be bandaged up and blistered.</div><div>You've been bringing more than</div><div>I saw coming my way.</div><div><br /></div><div>And I will take this step.</div><div>I'll let some sweetness dissolve.</div><div>After all, time is shorter than you imagine.</div><div>But I will take my time with you.</div><div>And please keep in mind</div><div>What I've been through before.</div><div>And keep your wonder</div><div>Wandering, be free and float.</div><div>That's what makes you shine so, anyway.</div><div><br /></div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-36997132716846990252009-06-23T20:03:00.001-07:002009-06-23T20:03:32.327-07:00<div>If this was it,</div><div>I'd wrap you up in the details</div><div>And fight it out until it wasn't worth the effort anymore.</div><div>I won't let you go</div><div>Starting tomorrow.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll sleep on this tonight,</div><div>And feel how it feels to slide into giving in,</div><div>I'm living in a world meant for me and you,</div><div>Alone. </div><div><br /></div><div>Will you begin, to see it my way?</div><div>Anyway, I'll try my best. If I regret what happens</div><div>I'll be better off for knowing. Knowing you.</div><div>Knowing there's something better off in the distance.</div><div>And I begin to let you off too easy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Are you coming home?</div><div>Monkey, I've missed you. It's beginning to blend into</div><div>All those times I stopped holding onto.</div><div>I won't let it die.</div><div>I'm here to stay, for a while.</div><div><br /></div><div>If I could only see you smile at me</div><div>Once before I dream tonight</div><div>Things would be very easy</div><div>And I'd be rising out into the midnight sky for good.</div><div>I wish you were coming to visit soon.</div><div>Oh monkey, how I've missed you.</div><div><br /></div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-10459588066105412402009-06-23T18:42:00.001-07:002009-06-23T20:01:52.640-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" border-collapse: collapse; font-size:16px;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">So many times we've been right here.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">What ties me to you is real, unspoken.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">But things have shifted, and again</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">It's fading, distancing my here</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">And your there. It isn't fair.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">And who's at fault? After all</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">We're children playing a game for</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Grown-ups. If we were older</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Things might have turned out</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Golden, but time is short</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">And I'll get to the point:</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">I'm not over you. I am </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Right where I have been</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">For years. And I'll</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Hang onto you.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Until you</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Come around</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Again.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Bye,</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">For Now,</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Beautiful.</span></span></span>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-14488166615345829512009-06-21T16:46:00.001-07:002009-06-23T20:02:15.829-07:00May 18, 2007<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" border-collapse: collapse; font-size:16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Another beer my dear?<br />There are plenty in the fridge.<br />We have everything we need right here,<br />so let your </span><span class="il" style="background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(207, 223, 229); background-position: initial initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">golden</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"> hair down.<br />I'd like to just sit around<br />drinking whiskey while the sun sets,<br />laughing loudly at the times we've had<br />so far, and it's only just started.<br />Your smile makes me feel silly,<br />and your eyes tend to freeze me solid.<br />I don't know what it is,but you've got it;<br />and I can't get enough.<br />So let's open up another tall boy,<br />I'll let you call me cupcake.<br />I don't just want to spend the night with you,<br />I'd love to spend the next day too</span></span>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-64151524702040371582009-06-21T16:45:00.000-07:002009-06-21T16:46:05.359-07:00June 29, 2007<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 16px; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">She threw the lemonade<br />with passion, I knew she meant it.<br />It shaved the paint from the wall<br />behind my bed, where we dreampt last night<br />of how good it could be<br />(my arm resting beneath her head,<br />tingling; falling asleep).<br />But it's not up to me, she thinks<br />she's done with this, and that.</p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">And now her voice, slightly slurring,<br />is saying she wants to "work it out",<br />to "talk"-- which mostly means yell<br />at me, like a dog who shit in the corner<br />of her bedroom. I'm running out of reasons<br />to keep this effort up. Her <span class="il" style="background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(207, 223, 229); background-position: initial initial; ">golden</span> hair<br />is dulling, I see the crust and scabs<br />covered with makeup, that weren't there<br />last time I looked. But it's my fault that<br />we got here, so I'll let her choose.<br />Please excuse me dear, be a little kinder,<br />I am all you've got left to lose.</p></span>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-49660402116605657482009-06-14T12:39:00.000-07:002009-06-23T20:02:30.784-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">As the buzzing fades in...</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">That familiar feeling grabs a hold of me.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Between my yesterdays long gone</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">And tomorrows come too soon</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">I'm in between being over you</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">And being too alone to care.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">What you have done, I've done twice as often,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">But it's lost in the details, forgotten.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">So I'll soothe myself, a drink;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Some quick release, some conversation.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Summer came calling,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Softly lead in by a steady rain,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">But now the heat is surely saying it's time.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">It's time, for drinks on the back deck,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">For feeling young, like Monday</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Isn't coming, and you didn't break my heart</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Last spring. It's time for moving on.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Time for goodbyes.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">Time for fading into the background.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">It's time for summer.</span></div><div><br /></div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-53729951626326900612009-05-27T19:04:00.001-07:002009-06-23T20:02:51.575-07:00March 23, 2004<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">late at night with nothing to dream</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">I'm running circles in my bed</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">I am bored out of my mind</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">and I can't get you out of my head</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">I can't seem to forget your laugh</span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">misplace your smile</span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">lose your company</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">but I can't begin to find you</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">in the space that's right beside of me</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">I wish it wasn't like it is</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">it’s in my nature to be alone</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">but you don't feel the same as me</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">I can hear it in your tone</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">but I don't feel it in your touch</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">you wouldn't let me get that close to you</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">so I pretend I'd rather be like this</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">what else am I supposed to do</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">except lay in bed tonight</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">and watch the darkness on the ceiling</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">and contemplate the simple solution</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">to all the loneliness I'm feeling</span></div><div><br /></div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-84565822145819678452009-05-27T19:02:00.000-07:002009-05-27T19:03:52.277-07:00March 11, 2004<div>I let her slip away again</div><div>I'm better off than on</div><div>she's a danger to my health</div><div>and I'll feel better when she's gone</div><div>things keep changing like the wind</div><div>that's stinging deep into my skin</div><div>I'm better off than on</div><div><br /></div><div>so I'll be heading back on in</div><div>to make another late-night visit</div><div>to listen to the stories that she tells</div><div>about a girl in love, innocence</div><div>they are obviously about someone else</div><div>she may linger in my mind</div><div>bunny tells me all the time</div><div>she might fall for my cheep tricks</div><div>down deep she's cheep inside like me</div><div>but still, I fall for her every time</div><div>how much more cliche could I be</div><div>I see I'm better off than on</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll feel better when she's gone</div><div>but if she'd let me stay a while</div><div>and get in close enough to touch</div><div>I'd live for the smell of her body</div><div>I bet that I could change so much</div><div>I'm better off without her</div><div>her feelings seem to be gone</div><div>it's too bad I still feel for her</div><div>but I'm better off than on</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-89118818158868709582009-05-27T18:58:00.000-07:002009-05-27T19:02:47.509-07:00March 7, 2004<div>all my best attempts are wasted</div><div>on girls I wish I never met</div><div>on a hand I knew I'd never win</div><div>on odds better left un-bet</div><div>so I cash in my remaining chips</div><div>just a little behind in the end</div><div>I've lost my money</div><div>I've lost my pride</div><div>I've gained a so-called friend</div><div>I called my therapist today</div><div>to ask for some love advice</div><div>she held my hand and calmed my fears</div><div>who knew a girl could be so nice</div><div>its time to go back to my old tricks</div><div>I've got lots of lies to return</div><div>I've got pain to give</div><div>time to get my kicks</div><div>and lots of love to burn</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-59795823684431358342009-05-27T18:53:00.000-07:002009-05-27T18:58:52.394-07:00August 22, 2003<div>I've collected you up</div><div>into ripped pieces of paper</div><div>with your name and number</div><div>a heart and</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"call me later"</div><div>you've written down your excuses</div><div>and left them on the table</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>with the mail</div><div>and a scribbled sign that says</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"love for sale"</div><div>I take my own advice</div><div>and climb aboard the ride</div><div>as I slowly read your reasons</div><div>and don't have the energy</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>to wonder if you lied</div><div>I'm just bored with being a bore</div><div>tired of spending the night</div><div>with the same old whore</div><div>but the bars are closed</div><div>and it's time to go home</div><div>but it's not home anymore</div><div>and I'm not going there alone</div><div>so I crawl down the street</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>in a moment of haste</div><div>so what if I didn't leave with you</div><div>there's too much time to waste</div><div>and not enough things to do</div><div>there aren't very many options</div><div>another doctor perscribed</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>friday night</div><div>we'll feel a whole lot better</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>if it ends in a fight</div><div>there's still a few more chances to take</div><div>while the sleeping stars are unafraid</div><div>a few more corners to wait on</div><div>when I'm waiting on you</div><div>a few more days of this</div><div>before I tell you I'm through</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-41936629672478154372009-05-27T18:52:00.000-07:002009-05-27T18:53:14.349-07:00May 3, 2003<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>so it begins again</div><div>this same feeling has made me hollow</div><div>like my long lost friend</div><div>like I'm in love with the sorrow</div><div>I can't write you a poem</div><div>without a good excuse to cry</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>so I</div><div>disguise myself with lonliness</div><div>to create another reason why</div><div>and pass another season by</div><div>I can still see the same hollow feeling</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>in your eyes</div><div>just out of reach but not out of mind</div><div>stay with me if you can find the time</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>to rewind</div><div>to when your eyes</div><div>were not so hollow as mine</div><div>they were the only hope that I still had</div><div>how I wish</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I didn't miss you so bad</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-74127122232331228212009-05-26T19:13:00.003-07:002009-05-26T19:13:53.567-07:00May 24, 2009<div>The freeway sputtering through the sunroof</div><div>Is thick with a June afternoon.</div><div>Humid, nearly wet, from summer days to come.</div><div>My thoughts are wandering sloppily, skipping</div><div>Through possibilities rapidly.</div><div>I won't settle down into an idea for a week or two</div><div>At which time I'll probably get stuck on missing you.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm trying harder than before to let go.</div><div>My intentions were clear,</div><div>And your "reasons" clearly excuses.</div><div>But I won't blame you, I've got baggage to drag around,</div><div>And you are light, like a beach towel floating</div><div>On long, healthy, summer grass.</div><div><br /></div><div>All this wondering is stupid after all.</div><div>Worthless pondering, forcefully formulating a perspective.</div><div>If I had less of an angle, there might have been more room</div><div>For something other than all-or-nothing.</div><div><br /></div><div>And right now you could convince me to pretend</div><div>To be as indifferent as you'd like</div><div>If it ment you'd lay down with me tonight</div><div>And let me taste again a little of the good life.</div><div>Now that's something I can spend a long ride dreaming of.</div><div>But I'd be better off to think of anything but,</div><div>So I'll spend the next few hours dreaming of mixed nothings</div><div>Even though nearly everything reminds me of you.</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-9812932048069330432009-05-26T19:13:00.001-07:002009-05-26T19:13:27.252-07:00May 23, 2009<div>This space is mine.</div><div>While you take yours, withdrawing from my room,</div><div>I will make room for myself, and hope.</div><div>Although hope is hard to hold tonight.</div><div>Tonight is not unlike many others,</div><div>Churning yesterday and the day before</div><div>Over and over until worn and blended;</div><div>A barely noticable scar. </div><div><br /></div><div>And who can blame you, when it's timing at fault.</div><div>I'd done the same to you, there's proof.</div><div>And your excuse is better than my</div><div>Dissapearing act. And our reasons are nearly the same,</div><div>Or so I can hope.</div><div>And hope that timing will find it's place,</div><div>Sometime around the corner of the coming season.</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-20075876583881077982009-05-26T19:12:00.004-07:002009-05-26T19:45:16.741-07:00May 20, 2009<div>How did we go from rushing home from work and class</div><div>And canceling plans for me-and-you,</div><div>And ice cream on a Sunday night</div><div>Past bedtime. To "too serious". What is so serious</div><div>about falling and love anyway?</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm fed up with too-far-in-between. I'm tired of</div><div>Heart-on-my-sleve, it works so much better</div><div>When it's take-it-or-leave-it. But I'm not nearly</div><div>Over feeling sorry-for-myself. Can you blame me?</div><div><br /></div><div>I've got a glass of wine and some DVR to keep my company.</div><div>And a poem I wrote for you, that I can't share.</div><div>I guess I deserved it after all. I guess I can't complain.</div><div>But I will.</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-5449196244480721222009-05-26T19:12:00.003-07:002009-05-26T19:12:46.679-07:00January 29, 2009<div>In this caffinated dream it seems my ends</div><div>End up pointing in the same direction.</div><div>I'm twisted up on top of myself.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm carefully configuring a life too soon.</div><div>It's much too early in the morning to feel so alone.</div><div>And ironic, that late tonight I'll yearn to be so.</div><div>And a winding ride, will ease my mind.</div><div>With solem stride, I'll get myself right.</div><div><br /></div><div>But where is my light? I have only the moon.</div><div>What happened to Sunday afternoon?</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3526687699057663744.post-78039543072725226162009-05-26T19:12:00.001-07:002009-05-26T19:12:23.259-07:00April 24, 2008<div>So what about today?</div><div>Yesterday was way too soon,</div><div>But can we wait until tomorrow?</div><div>And if the time never comes,</div><div>What will we say, what remains?</div><div>Can we stretch our finite time</div><div>Into a rectangle, and press it under glass?</div><div>How long until the wine corks</div><div>Stop smelling? How long until</div><div>Your bobby pins have all disappeared?</div><div>Questions linger above the floor</div><div>Like static balloons, low on helium.</div><div>And you move through me, with a breath</div><div>Of the suade. Your skin, sweat--</div><div>Your love comes easing back into me.</div><div>And you shake me, but I pretend</div><div>It goes unnoticed. And I don't</div><div>Hate you, I couldn't.</div><div>Though I've tried, you know</div><div>A piece of you lives inside of me forever.</div>LOGBERGhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11198139073544156599noreply@blogger.com0