Old Stuff (before I had a computer)

Grip and Pull (pop song)

Back in 1990, in Athens GA, a group of 4 strange young men came together and formed a band; "Downtrodden". It was a very unique experience for these guys and their fans. Personally, I was enjoying a fairly steady flow of writing back then. I wrote this song one night, right before the ritualistic adventure of going to see the band practice. I got to the practice space early, when only the guitar player (Bear) was hooked up and ready to go. I sang a little of the tune--not much at all--and Bear snatched the paper from me and said, "Oh yea, we can do this." And the rest is history. Bear created a quick intro, and the rest of the song pretty much goes by itself.

Downtrodden enjoyed local success, and received favorable reviews for a couple of years, and then fell apart, like most Athens bands do. Someday I would love to have a music file of Downtrodden's version of this song on this webpage. We'll see.

This song, Grip and Pull, is my gift to the musical community. It's a playful little pop tune that could be rock, new country, reggae, whatever. I would love to see a band breakout with this song, and all I would ask for is tickets to a show someday. I have many songs and poems for sale, as well. If you are interested in seeing more, e-mail me.

Grip and Pull:

Cindy Crawford could do that to me
Kathy Ireland, yeah, probably
And Heather, sure, since she dumped Tommy Lee
But dating these babes I won't be

You say that we're friends and you love me too
But none of my friends ever act like you
They don't try to watch everything I do
And it's not them I'm singing to...

chorus:
Grip and pull--, oh babe pull as hard as you can
Grip and pull--, try to keep those reins on your man
Grip and pull--, put that thing right in my face
Grip and pull--, try to keep me in my place

transition

You make it very clear what I must say
Either back off or be on your way
You think I'm cold; unfeeling, but hey
I don't want to hear your bitching anyway-

To Cindy Crawford's house I can't go
Kathy Ireland I may never know
And Heather's standards are way too low
But loosen your grip, baby, you've got to go

chorus
transition
solo
bridge
chorus


©1991 WetSpot Poetry



Chase It All Night Long

It's something quite trivial
A detail, yes it's true
And praising any detail
Is very tough to do.

Try once again in hopes to find
Some measure of success
Profound discretion from my mind
Of the detail I like best.

To jump up, spread my legs, and spin
To catch a humming "B"
In a lit-up Marta station
Or when with Stan, standing by the sea.

To tap that plastic eighty times
To tip it with both feet
To see it thrown, and as it climbs
Race for it down the street.

To chase it all night long, why not?
To throw it sixty yards
To make each toss an excellent shot
Dive for it over cars.

To sweat and smile and love it all
This time is heaven kissed
A frisbee junkie's mating call
"Hey man, let's throw some disc!"

1985 WetSpot Poetry



What You Are

The clouds high above you fight to be the one
That catches your eye through light of the sun
To let you sigh, and all the birds that sing
Hope that your ears hear the music they bring.

People you barely know depend on you
To brighten their days, like you always do
And to strangers you're a pleasant surprise
In your company, look how the time flies.

To the entire world you're a precious gift
Who always finds ways to make spirits lift
The whole earth's lucky, and for the last line:
I'm the luckiest; because you are mine.


© 1987 WetSpot Poetry


April's Tow

Before we get to the poem, "April's Tow", let me tell you about it: This poem is made up of consecutive 3 and 4 syllable lines, with a triple rhyme scheme-containing a double verse link. I have never read, written, or even heard of a more complicated poem than this, but somehow it still reads well. I hope you enjoy it. Obviously, it's very fast.

April's Tow:

Innocence,
With confidence,
Some myst'ry
And flowing sweet.

Elating,
Elevating,
So simply
Standing complete.

And now she
Has smiled at me;
Alas, this
Angel has dared:
Her action,
My attraction
This strong bliss
Should not be spared.

I will walk
Toward and talk
To a breeze
Of April's tow;

Disappeared,
'Round corner veered
Moment seized
For her, I go.

My words will
The fresh air fill;
Eyebrows raised,
She will see clear;

To follow, try
'Round corner I
Stand amazed;
No one is here.

©1989 WetSpot Poetry



Untitled

Okay folks; as of April of 2000, I have referred to writing the "perfect" poem a couple of times here on my big bad webpage. Well, this is it. Notice how carefully I titled it "Untitled", so as to not bring any attention to it. Notice, also, how it's way down here at the bottom of this Old Stuff page. It's like this: I used to think that I could save the world; but now I really don't want to be associated with this pathetic human existence.
"I guess this is growing up."

Words seem to be the issue
As emotions must get by
Pathetic things to cling to
Yet poets and lovers try.

The best my heart can offer
Are words; soft, like fingertips
They paint a pretty picture
But cannot touch fragile lips.

Or words can be much harder
And tear sharp like jagged teeth
As strong words come much closer
To the meanings underneath.

But strength is not the answer
And subtlety's not direct
Messages words deliver
May not always be correct.

So; words are not the issue
Feelings in them, hard to see
Pathetic things to cling to
What else can a poem be?

©1991 WetSpot Poetry




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