I was drinking beer with a tear in my eye,
The night I learned about Lady Di.
I’m one of those Americans who despise royalty;
But something about Diana struck a chord in me.
Perhaps I even had a crush on her
And still just saw her as Diana Spencer;
Even though she lived in a fairy tale,
Married to an ogre, the Prince of Wales.
Her inside was matched by her outer beauty;
Devoting hours of time to charity.
She had an iconic presence on the world stage,
Conspiracy death theories caused a media rage.
But I always just saw her as a young girl,
Caught up in a political swirl;
A pawn played with little regard to her soul,
Robbed of a chance to someday grow old.
I was drinking beer with a tear in my eye,
The night I learned about Lady Di.
Not sure why it struck me so hard,
While sitting alone in a Hoboken bar.
Not on the streets where one would fear for safety.
In a home where nobody is rood.
Not under a bridge in search of a place to sleep.
A bed upon a pedistol for a wonderful night of dreams.
Not digging in a dumpster seeking warm food after a restraunt had closed.
Soaking up gravy with the last bite of a bisket upon a shiny plate.
Alone and lonely not knowing where to go.
Driving home to a family whos waiting to see me.
Clothes dirty and no shower or bath to use.
Bubbles glistening in a tub of delightful essance.
A cold winters night will take ones breath away.
A home with a wood burning stove gives warmth to the lucky ones.
Yet a poor poper am i.?
Words to write and why.
Aww for I am not a poper but one of wealth beyond ones dreams.
For i have been given a gift that no money nor fame shall taketh away.
A poor poper is not me.
Not on the streets where one would fear for safety.
In a home where nobody is rood.
Not under a bridge in search of a place to sleep.
A bed upon a pedistol for a wonderful night of dreams.
Not digging in a dumpster seeking warm food after a restraunt had closed.
Soaking up gravy with the last bite of a bisket upon a shiny plate.
Alone and lonely not knowing where to go.
Driving home to a family whos waiting to see me.
Clothes dirty and no shower or bath to use.
Bubbles glistening in a tub of delightful essance.
A cold winters night will take ones breath away.
A home with a wood burning stove gives warmth to the lucky ones.
Yet a poor poper am i.?
Words to write and why.
Aww for I am not a poper but one of wealth beyond ones dreams.
For i have been given a gift that no money nor fame shall taketh away.
A poor poper is not me.
I dabble in that which seeks the night in false bitter screams,
For in this wandering fading grip I hold onto dreams.
Some say I am a bit insane in fortitudes embrace,
Yet I drink the fire to blind my eyes from that devil’s face.
I invite you all to sit down and witness all the beasts,
Have a sip, pour a glass, it is the window to the feast.
Don’t look at me with judging eyes until you down the glass,
For things will clear, come to light, when held in truths bitter grasp.
I dabble in that which seeks the night in false bitter screams,
I down the drink, I hold the pint, and whisper to the dreams.
And now I sway, glass in hand, tell tells of lost battles won,
The heavy heart, the solemn tears brought forth by glasses done.
The eyes grow weary, the hands shake, the slurring songs are stilled,
Still I reach for the devil’s fire as the mug is refilled.
She pats her combed and curled up hair
painted lips twist into a sad smile.
Tucking her mama's hanky
between her powdered bosoms.
She thinks of Home
Lonely Cowpokes drift in from the badlands
gunslingers crowd around the bar.
Card sharks bluff and bluster at every table
playing till their money is gone
The hot night air thick with whiskey:
cigar smoke and danger
She gasps.. an excited shiver
trickling down her spine.
Stepping out onto the landing
she gathers her courage
she hurries to her admirer's side.
For a little hanky panky the drifter has traveled far
She will drink and dance the night away.
A sweetheart for his dime
The morning after.. Daylight
will shine on just a painted lady
sleeping sweetly;
dressed only in her angelic smile..
Night Lit Bright Their Signal
Formerly, one knew on sight the ones
who walked with economic purpose.
One had criteria: the color
of their robes, the meter
of their stroll, the semaphore of their
cosmetic blare.
One knew that night for them was dawn,
that night lit bright their signal.
Today, my pastor claims,
one must inquire of them all.
Donal Mahoney
The hours grows late and so the night bodes ill,
Another man falls, he did drink his fill.
And what fate do the streets take,
When the night cracks with a dawn break?
The rotten and unwanted fate,
Resented and repelled too late.
When the breath of man became disgrace,
Habitual of a hollow, heathen race.
And the cumbersome unrest of drunken sleep,
With a final sigh the streets does sweep.
Here unbidden wretches mark out their day,
In this sorry place they waste away.
As the city shifts focus from watchful eyes,
Concealing its dirt beneath painted lies.
Without a sound each night exhumed,
Then ritual veneer polished and re-assumed.
Music within the air memories to
heal the bitter soul.
The sounds of the past come to life
in rock n roll.
The lights from the stage.
Cast ghost's of many.
Taking us all past the pressent.
To a perfect timeless age.
Nights of passion that exist evermore.
Casting the sprits magic.
dancing with the ghost's light's
casting shadows apon the floor.
Secrets of lovers and new best friends.
We kiss blindley taseting the magic.
For that moment all is real no
one pretends.
As the night flows like a curtain apon
a gentle southern breeze.
From the floor to the legend
this night does ease.
We write are own chapters all
ading in lifes book.
Regrets should be few.
For out of this night as much as we gave
we also took.
Hearts entangled memories forever
do we adore.
Dancing with ghosts of lovers past.
Keeping time with the shadows apon
the floor.
splintered moons are always moving over my night skies
and shooting stars always are greeted with a surprise
sunsets, in autumn, always fall with the leaves that let go
and someday you will eventually know
that everything happens for an unknown reason
shadows stretch as each night dims to a darker gray
and stars wink in a direction that's a thousand years away
as clouds move through and cry frozen tears of snow
and someday you will eventually know
that love also has a calendar of changing seasons
each day the night betrays the sun at a different time
and the stars twinkle their lights to a rhythmless chime
but in the darkest days of winter there's no sun left to glow
and someday you will eventually know
that all cycles seem to have an act of treason
A million stars
Centuries away
They flicker and shine
Lighting the night sky
Looking like dancing beads of glass
Lit by eternally burning fires
Looking into the night sky
Lovers look into their light
Seeing one special light
A miracle star hanging in an ebony sky
They say a prayer
Words spoken into empty space
Spoken with hope
The one star
Centuries away will never hear
The pleas of the young couple
Will never grant their wish
But through their love
Their wish will be granted