A squirrel booked a spa day, fed up with all the treetop riff-raff;
he stretched out in our garden mud, declaring it a “mineral luxury bath.”
Curses! You woke my Simon Bar Sinister!
Cuz, you fondled Miss Sweet Polly's Purebred!
I'm not gonna tolerate this Riff Raff no more!
Now, you'll deal with the Mighty Underdog's lead!
So, no Shoeshine Boy today little boy!
Go on and call your Cad Lackey, he's cranky!
You're just one more of those Little Rascals!
You're all gonna get a spanking from Spanky!
Written By:
Traducir Al Spaniel'
A.K.A El Alborotado
-----------------------------------
To support all of this emotion
to take everything in stride
to up lift to and to encourage
put all that doubt and envy aside
how can go on saying
when so many want me o fail
hold my head up and keep on stibing
hoping one day I would prevail
Keep me grooving to the music
gone darling do your thang
breakfast was so delicious
Darling you treat me like a King
about yesterday I apologize
but don't keep doing that sorta thing
Your Ole man
started hushing
stopped talking when I came around
he get up when I started sitting
acting like he didn't want me around
his actions both subtle and overt
had an impact on everything
made me feel like ah fifth wheel
put a dark cloud on everything
got mad and started cussin
that's not a nice or respectful thing
got in the way of our performance
putting a damper on everything
now I'm ah red eyed stranger
a tear drop fell in my beer
all that cussin and fussin
is such annoyance
it put's ah damper on everything
Can a song be so sad it becomes beautiful?
A record listened to with such incessance
Its needle scratches and wobbles
Becomes desperate new notes for the melody?
The song unrecognizable to the listener
Without its own personalized warp
From a thousand roundabout journeys?
Try
Hurrah For The Riff Raff’s Good Time Blues (An Outlaw’s Lament)
Or their Ogallala
Try on Steve Earle’s Last Words
Or St. Vincent’s Smoking Section
All these songs make me turn my head
And cry
When I’m around others
Otherwise if I’m all alone
I stare ahead in stoned silence
No Expectations is another
Mick and Keith say that day in the studio
Was the last time
They ever saw blurry-eyed original Brian Jones
Alive
Bent over his guitar with his steel finger slide
Finding and gliding his long long regrets
Up and down his bent strings
As the boy watched his peace of mind packed up
For the last time
Adding his own final warped words
From a piece of steel to carved hollow wood
His swan song for the Stones
That Keith and Mick thought they wrote
Made his own
Immortal
And beautiful.
Pounding each key
like a Fender Rhodes
the computer bent and wailed
Bits and bytes
of encrypted language
messages derailed
Memory freezes
last chance rebooted
restart zero-sum
The riff uncapped
its printout fading
—typeface on the run
(The New Room: 8/6/2023)
It was right on the tip
of my tounge.
I losed my thought in
looking for something.
Why aren't the folders
marked: by tempo?
Who putlyrics and rhymn
on top.
They erased
melody and harmony
and put Bounce and Boogie
in it's place.
Love song has barque on it
we are going to dance not
waltz!
Ghee whizz: don't spill
no liquer on my floor.
My mind is already in a
fugue!
I thought it was coda!
start back at the top.
Art song complications
they are such picky people!
Outro:intro refraim!
I’ve been a resident at ole Soup Creek for a while now,
For the most part, it’s a great town with folk from all over.
But through years, I've seen riff raft come here too,
I never cared too much about them; just ask Rover.
The fine citizens of this town will band together to drive,
out anyone who doesn't have our best interest at heart.
Each person plays a part in keeping the peace and harmony,
I knew that about this place right from the very start.
So if you aim to stir seeds of discord, lies, and the like,
Please, Mr, Mam, Sir, or whatever name you go by.
Can you please do me a favor and take a hike,
Soup Creek doesn’t need rift raft like you goodbye.
In case you wondered about Rover, he’s my best friend,
A German Shephard who’ll be with me until the end.
05/25/2022
Alexis Y.
Ding a ling
Ring a ling
Ping a ling
Ting a ling
Sing a thing
Wing a thing
Fling a thing
Sling a thing
Crown a king
Drown a king
Hound a king
Pound a king
Clap along
Snap along
Tap along
Flap along
Ding dong
Ping pong
King Kong
Bing bong
End song
How could
it have
gone?
I see
paths,
so many
paths.
Infinite
in nature.
Twist and
and turns,
lefts and rights.
Fork after fork
choice after
choice.
How
to navigate?
Where to
turn?
Each path,
unique.
Each path
a different
reality.
Different
universe.
Different
endings,
different life.
Choice after
choice.
Many
outcomes
to be had.
God’s
eye view.
All have
occurred.
Infinite lives
lived,
experienced
all!
The sound of a single guitar string is a haunting sigh.
A chord will bring the beginnings of a smile as other sounds pass by.
Ah, but the arrival of a riff brings laughter as a song is nigh.
6-6-18
For Silent One's contest When Three Lines Are So Much Better
Searching I was for a good riff,
Maybe like in 'Locomotive Breath',
So I called up my old pal Biff
But a cold, he had caught a death.
Now with Biff down and out,
I was left to go it alone;
“But blisters on my fingers!” To shout,
I mean I was down to the bone.
So to the bible open at page one,
For some guidance, why not?
But nary a riff would come
And to page two I never got.
Now a cup of inspiration taken,
I'm grooving to Carlos Santana;
'Soul Sacrifice' if I'm not mistaken,
Thinking there's always manana.
Godammit, where you at Biff?
I got all these words in my head!
Hey, hey, my, my I need a riff,
Drinking here by myself instead.
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