Writer • Musician
Standing on a hill of greenAnd I stand alone.No people No Trees,No Rivers, LakesNo clouds in the sky.I am a nowhere manFor today.I am not sure how to feelOr what I am supposed to thinkAbout the dayThe nightsThe coming weeks and monthsThought I would stand steadyBut I thought I saw Feeling arrive over the distant …
Look into my eyes oh young deceiver.Jump into my dream now and I'll make you a believer.Open your mind and stare down into your falling, sinking well.Be wary of your ground, for you wear your soul on your lapel.Are you the sacred master of the hopeless and internally obscene?You, the golden calf, for those who …
For the record, I ought to point out that Jude is a lovely man who, to my knowledge, has committed no crimes or anything to feel this degree of apparent self-loathing. Then again, not all songs are necessarily about the songwriter. HahahaSinner's LamentJude RawlingI look to my leftI look to my rightTryin' to embrace the …
I sat at the old porchOf a childhood friendWhere sitting on a lawnchairWas dear ol' Jimmy Brown.He smiled wide and staredAnd I danced a jig on the ground.I happened to be wearing a blanketOf blue velvetFor no particular reason,Which gave me the appearanceOf some sort of sultan or emperor.And everybody adored (me).
There is fire burning within.I thought how wonderful it was to last so long.Never has it grown thin,Just given birth to soft melodies and epic song.I see the mountainAnd I will sing across hundreds more.I will fly across the seasAnd explore the high pillars of BabylonBefore I have to arrive here once moreAnd meet, once …
rocks leave trapped the spectral skies as Ophelia screams the thief in white. a farm bell tolls, siren lights appear at the top row of trembling Mediterranean fears there is no power so great, says she to tame the thieves of these odyssean seas to thwart the lords who deceive and leave their kingdoms displeased, …
There is a presence in the airThat whispers to us all.There is something calling to us all.There may yet be daylight before nightfall.And yet all who walk alongBeneath the beckoning skyPay no attention really.They listen, they blink. They move on and the message sinks.There ain't much left that's really dearExcept all they've been told to …
There is a fury of rain and thunderCrashing outside the windowAs the sounds of jazz playIn the smooth aura of our room.Outside lie nature's fierce displayOf violence and mystery;And it eases with the waves of saxophones andSoft drum beats in a soft,Sexual tide that envelop us all in raw ecstasy.This storm frightens no one,Not one …
Continue reading "Joy In the Eye of the Storm (Thunderstorm Melody)"
Oh my darling Bette Davis You were a bitch and crude some still say But I love you oh specter of the night sky My dear beloved Bette Beneath your skin of rock I see beauty A delicacy that I could dive into and swim for all eternity. You were a legend you were a …
The walls of my house are no longer my own.I wonder if it should have taken me this long to realize.My purpose and calling, sister, lie somewhere down the road.I am well-fed and I show all a smile, yet the darkness does not escape my eyes.If you asked me yesterday what I was to doI’d …
As the sun rises, my mind races in panic to remember its youth,as it slowly reveals the moisture parading atop the grass.The memories of fate and long-forgotten dreamsrest deep beneath the lawn of bright green,Battles have been won, others just foughtI know not what this day or the next will bring.All I wish is for …
On this withering new morning,This first of December,I can feel the cold wind penetrateThe solid brick of my home.A Spring arrived this yearand yet within there was decay.A summer blasted and scorched in seething pain.Autumn settled and my spirit rest beneath the leaves.And as mother earth returns to sleepand her beauty fades to white,There is …
I have long been away. There can be no questioning that. I can't say whether I will henceforth be updating this account regularly as I had in the past. What I can say right now is that since my motorcycle crash last October, I have become engrossed by the powers of songwriting and poetry--both of …
Sitting on a couchWaiting for the band to playWaiting atop my pouchWaiting for the band to playThere’s something in my mind, looking for my lost valentineWant so much to be mine, better not waste an ounce of timeI’m sitting on my couchWaiting for the and to play.In this bowl lies ones harvest, one’s goldIn this …
Ren Michael 