Some of my poetry...
August 21, 1997
"Still haven't found what I'm looking for"
by Liz Young aka Stoney Crazy Rockofeller-Hendrix"
I'm hungering for something
Of which I cannot perceive
I've lost all knowledge of what this thing is
But it used to tend to sustain me.
My mother walks around watching me
Avoiding me whilest she do
I don't know what's running through her mind
But it's bugging her as well as me too
Whatever thought that is running through her head
Whatever thing is bothering her
And I still wait to remember what I used to have me fed with
And I turn to be a lost soul.
I don't get it anymore
I'm stuck in a rut
I don't really care anymore
I'm stuck
My mother pays Natalie a compliment
But I can't understand what they're saying
And I don't
Want to really know because all I know
Is that I will feel inadequate even more so
Now than before
I don't know what's in store
For me
What have I done?
What is waiting for me?
And my mind keeps slipping back
Knowing things can't stay this way
We can't just look at one another
For a moment and then walk away
I will do my thing
And she'll have to do hers
But why does everything
Have to become such a chore
When it comes to communication
Between her and me and.. he
I'll have to talk to him
I need him
To be
There
But I don't know if he cares
Anymore
I don't know what's in store
For me
I don't know who's going to implore
What or if anything to me
I don't know how to restore
Myself to the me I used to be
A couple of weeks ago
Maybe I just need to let go.
Maybe I just need to know
What exactly it was that I used to be
Maybe I need to find that verse of poetry
Because the world is an egg we're sitting on
And it's ready to crack
We take one wrong move
And we can never go back
What's right is still right
And what's wrong is still wrong
But we make the decision
to stay or move on.
But I don't know what my decision will be
I know some revision is going to come to me
My mom is mad of some reason I cannot understand or see
Because maybe I'm blind
Blind as can be
And I wait for him to show
He knows the things I know
I think he knows the things I know
Or maybe it's just a conscience in my head
That I'm not familiar with yet
I say the prayer again
I recite the crede
I'm trying not uneffortlessly
To reach a state
Of blessed be
Today I have the blues
And today they'll come and stay
Just wait until tomorrow
Hell maybe just wait until today
I don't remember my dreams
I can't remember songs
I don't remember where I'm supposed to be
I don't know where I belong
I hope that today won't be that day
In which everything goes wrong
But it's a Thursday today
I never got a hang of Thursdays
They always just feel wrong.
My mom talks all sweet on the phone
but when she gets off
She'll be walking around owning the thing I'm missing
And me owning the thing she wants
We don't know what it is either way,
But she's not only the missing piece
Somewhere my guy's out there
And he's holding part of me
He won't come back either on crutches or on feet
I'll just wait and try to be duchess.. just try to continue to be sweet
I'll just wait here.. sit here waiting
And maybe you will see
Somewhere the thing I'm longing for
And if you're nice enough, bring it to me. I'm searching for soul
that I might know
But have not had the chance to meet
I'm searching for a soul
A kind-hearted soul
Who can just be quite as sweet
I'll look
maybe I'll find
it before I lose my mind
If I'm lucky I will turn out with he
And we will be blessed be.
"Trying to Show her Forgiveness"
by Liz "Spock" Young
Of course the Lobsterbacks are here,
Boots are tapping, pouding in my ear,
Drop paper folded on the floor,
Someone falls asleep before going through the door,
Pulls back hair from out of face,
And yet it falls back into place,
And people insult their own disgrace,
And the drums play on.
S.O.S. Morse code tapping on the desk,
People finishing up Home Ec,
Steel-tipped toes on workbooks,
Combat boots and UFO's,
Disperse ye rebels!
Give us no trouble.
We come to fight for liberty.
Bayonets and blazing red,
There goes the man,
he falls down dead -
Red, white, black on horses grey,
Someone orders them to stay,
Someone cries when their dad died,
And people laugh,
someone smiles.
There is Cosmo Cramer,
There sits Lee,
Whips a Lion tamer,
No surprise to me.
Trouble again,
Past Lion Dens,
Poking pencils between fingers,
But yet it is the thought that lingers,
Perhaps we'rd becoming friends,
And maybe we can make ammends.
Aye, We ran, We ran like rabbits,
Go and stop this foolish habit.
Foolhardy people,
Sliding cross the ice,
Keep throwing birdseed,
No more rice,
Flirt Alert and troubled jerks,
Stop the sanity,
Why all this madness anyways?
All this jubilation, twitterpation,
Makes you want to change the station
Is there anything left for us to believe?
August 21, 1997
"Looking Back at My Apology"
by Liz Young aka Stoney Crazy Rockofeller-Hendrix
Too symbolic, Even for her I tried to show her a forgiveness Showed her a poem And there was an alibi, an eyewitness, Puzzled, she lookd at it, And she tried to see through to the meaning She couldn’t make sense of it But for one moment she stood there, hazel eyes gleaming And she bade a compliment But she didn’t understand She bade a compliment But she couldn’t understand And so I stand there With a poem in my hand Trying to believe that someday she will understand. But I knew she was confused. It was good though, she hadn't refused. My too symbolic apology I had versed in poetry Valentine's day cards I sent out And some people rejected them and threw them out Some just made fun But most were confused Tabbai was the only one who thought it was cool And I lived on... I lived on. Perhaps someday she'll understand but mostly I just suspect That I will stand there with poem in hand Which she of course did reject But she lookd at it.. Looked confused.. She didn't exactly refuse.. She just didn't get it. She probably won't look back at the meaning it meant to mean I will probably be the only one wondering.. This is how it will be. Things are so much harder to deal with a lot of the time now I draw the line now I watch out now For her cue But she's lost.. And I suspect maybe so also are you.
"You Guys Were There"
by Liz "Toolbox" Young
When I did things so excellent
You guys were there.
When I didn't do things you said I did;
When you were so benevolent
You guys weren't there.
When I tried to be nice
You made me act as if I had lice
You never gave me a second chance twice
And you were there.
Only six of you
Never tried to deny the truth
Because they knew what I was
And they didn't bother me because
They were nice.
You guys didn't care.
But the rest,
O the rest,
The rest that put my patience to the test...
You... You were there at the worst times
Ready to tease me and torture me in line
You guys were there.
You stared
You glared
You didn't care.
You guys were there.
You hate me.
You degraded me.
No one of you liked me
And I liked everybody
Except for those who were always there.
You guys were there,
And my friends weren't.
You guys were there
Faster than the river's currents.
You guys were there
Ready to insult.
You guys wer there
More faithful than a priest and his cult.
You guys were there,
Ready to pay your toll.
You guys were always there
Ready to be assholes.
We are Cracked
by Stonebank
We are cracked
We are stoned
We are attacked
Then left alone
we take our time
We take our chances
We make up our mind,
Then go to dances
And afterwards we party more
Then go spinning and fly across the floor
And we accidentally fall,
And we go crashing into walls,
So now we're cracked more than ever,
We defy them all wih nevers
And go crash into other and more people
In the place located underneath the steeple,
We are dizzy
We can't walk straight
We are ditzy.
We can't remember our own names
We are mad
And we are nuts
We are glad
And we act cutz..
Only because we are,
And we have fun that way.
We are ditzy
We are high
WE are silly
And high on life
And we will live forever
And we will never ever say never..
Unless we want to
But we don't want to
And we will never die
We will be seen in everyone's eyes
All three of us as a light for everyone
Whenever someone's goodness is ditzy friendly fun.
We are cracked
We are alone
We are in the minds of everyone
And we are them
And they are us
We are their inner and outer trust
We are on the outside, the inside and thier guts
We are part of every one
That ever did happen to exist
Or ever will be or now is,
Cause we are what we want to be
And we know what we want to be
And we know ourselves
And what everybody else wants to be
Is left for someone else.
We are cracked
We are dotty
We are slapped
In everyone's body
In a little bit, or a large portion
A part which cannot suffer abortion.
We are cracked
And if we are smacked
By somebody
Then we'll go chase afterm them,
And they will make their pays due in..
To me.
We are cracked
We are aliens
We get checks
Cause we got caught talking in class again,
But we're having fun anyways
And we don't care, it's just another day
That we'd have to try and have a prevention
To stop and not get another detention
And we don't really ever care
And that is why we always get in trouble there.
We are cracked
We are messed up
We get attacked,
But we don't give up.
We are cracked
And we love it,
And that is why
We'll never end
And never die.
We are cracked.
We are stoned.
We always laugh.
We are messed up..
But not alone,
And not to give up.
"Geometry of Life"
by Liz Young oka (otherwise known as) Stone Rockofeller-Hendrix
Under the Lord,
And Under the Light,
Under the Sword,
And under the Sky,
Under all things that are driven
That they all may let us go to heaven
Udner the lover of the ones that hate us,
Under the People who did mistake us,
Under the Ones who know us not,
And Under the ones who have us forgot,
All these things we wish
Did not exist
But cannot change,
Because you don't like the people who see a bit of this anyways.
Under the Moon,
Under the Eye,
Under a Spoon
And Inside a Pie,
What things we see of circles and squares,
May have certain sharpes, but aren't fair. May 16, 1997
"I'm Still Happy Living"
by E.K.Y
It's amazing! After 13 hours
of sleep I'm still tired -
And I'm so ready for science clas.
I won't be a liar
and announce that I'm wired,
for gym: my next hour class.
It's great being in love with the world again
and seeing everything so clear
It's great just knowing even though life shall end
that there's no real reason to fear.
It's even great just knowing
that someday it shall be
raining instead of snowing
and that unfrozen rain will fall about my feet.
It's beautiful to know that life still moves on
and it's awesome that we know
that winter actually leads to other seasons
life can actually proceed with days of not shovelling snow.
It'll still be alright if we don't see tomorrow
because my darling, you see
then there'll be no more sorrow
and you shall be with me.
And even if you're the only one left living
I'll wait for you my dear
Just live your life, quit grieving -
I'll wait 'till you appear.
I'll save a seat for you in heaven
if I make it ther
Or I'll let you cut in front of me in purgatory
if you think that's fair.
And if you don't love me tomorrow
I'll probably still love you
No, I won't feel no sorrow
I'll go on
But I'll always be here for you. May 19, 1997
"Post-Vietnam-Syndrome"
by Liz Young
Mommy, the ghosts are back
but they're not only im my dreams
Daddy's friend is blue and black
can't you hear his screams?
Mommy, I'm seeing nightmares
but they're not only in my room
Daddy would care
I'm getting sent to my doom
Mommy, no.. don't send me to bed -
do you know what you're doing?
I'm gonna be dead -
do you know what you're doing?
Mommy, help G. I. Joe
He just lost a leg
Mommy, help me, I don't know;
is he alive or is he dead?
Mommy, Dadd's crying
his friend's black and blue and red
Daddy yells at him: he can't be dying
Mommy, is he dead?
Mommy, what's going on now?
He's all covered with blood
If he drops his hands now
then he'll release the flood.
Daddy's in the field now
he can't get no release
what's he doing now?
He's got blood all over his fatigues
Mommy, why were you fighting
with Daddy that night?
It was scary, all the lightning
just amplified the fight.
Mommy, why were all those men
pulling Daddy away?
I still remember what he said:
"You're not going to die today!
Mommy, you're covered with red
May I ask you a question?
Mommy, is Daddy dead?
Why do you keep saying: "God bless him"?
Mommy, whose blood is that?
Do you know what you're doing?
Mommy, where's dad?
Do you know what you're doing?
Mommy, fix G. I. Joe;
you can make everything okay
Mommy, where'd my daddy go?
Is he gonna die today? May 19, 1997
"G. I. Jane"
by E.K.Y
I'm a poet, I'm an author
I'm a bitch, I'm a friend
i'm the bom, and you know it
but you don't know when's the end.
I'm a lover, i'm a fighter
I'm a panther I'm a rogue
I'm an undercover sniper
I'll gather; I'm a lady Sniperdog and a toad./I only do the things I agree with that I'm told.
I'm Jimi Hendrix, reincarnate
without the drugs or guitar acrobatics
I'm a synthenol drink with carbonate -
forget all the schematics!
I'm a pen, I'm a paper,
I'm the fire at the end
I'm that Party favor
you always use up before the party's end.
I'm Albert Einstein, I'm Mary Magdalen
I'm just every person
everyone's enemy and friend
and there's only a 1000 million version -
What I mean to say is ways to look at me, my friend.
I'm Mulder *oooh* and Scully
I'm Kami Kazi
I'm moldy and scuzzy
I'm bald and fuzzy
I'm a contradictorial paradoxial soul
devoted to the inner music
which constitutes her thought patterns - this rock 'n' roll -
sent through Jim's voice
so as not to annoy
a repeating sound/thought/emotional pattern
she has yet to discern
she's a skeptic and encrypted
into her own sort of inspired insanity
that only such a critic
could own, without owning vanity
I'm Bubba, I'm Jenny
I'm the private who didn't return from recon
I'm the kamikazee
Let's face it, I'm the bomb
My fuse is lit
and who knows
when it
will blow
I'm the unnamed soldier
No one knows exactly who I am
They threw away my folders
thought I was taken P.O.W. in 'Nam
somehow I didn't make it
and I'm still haunting people to this day
and if they can take it
then they'll make it out okay.
I'm Chopin, I'm Jimi Hendrix
I'm the last Don
I'm Picasso, Lieutenant Dan
but this time I returned from recon
I'm the ghost
I'm the spirit
And I'm the mirror to your soul
I play a pretty mean stratocaster
'let's hear it'
I'm the king of rock 'n' roll
And if I ever make it out of here
maybe you will see
all the people I've turned into
and that only cause I'm running:
that's only why I stay free.
June 20, 1997
It's like I learned to talk and write gaelige
before I was quite aware of my existance
I can almost translate
It's like a memory on the tip of my tongue or my head
White static covers a video I forgot to rewind
It bothers me.
I ask others to be kind
I'm now Charly
and I've just lost the ability to read a certain language but
of course it's not quite like that
it brings that annoyance of a feeling almost like a writers block back to be a bug
to me, but I have no chance
to remember this time
I must have been Irish years back
or an Irish in a former life time
or an Irish in my dreams..
Maybe it's just an instinct coming from my Irish genes...
If I were in my dream right now
and asked to translate
some long Irish prose, I could AND HOW
but when I wake
comprehension seeps from me and here I am left behind
frustrated with that memory on the tip of my tongue or my head
and the white static covering a video I forgot to rewind.
It still bothers me
being 100% Irish
if only in my dreams.
Copyright ©1997 All rights reserved to the author, Liz Young aka Stoney Crazy Rockofeller-Hendrix
Stoney Crazy Rockofeller-Hendrix aka Liz Young
ladyhitchhiker@rocketmail.com
520 Wilson Avenue, The Stone Dome...
THE STONE ZONE!!!!!!
Kingsford, MI 49802
United States