Driving With My Blinker On Again

Driving in my car in the middle of the day
Hoping that I’m able to remember my way
I start and stop can’t recall is it left or right
So I pull the switch and there goes on my signal light

Chorus:

I’m driving with my blinker on again
You never know how this will end
Will I make a right or left or even turn you’ll never guess
I’m driving with my blinker on again

Well at one point I’m sure I did intend to turn
Now you’re asking me where my driving I did learn
Well I’m pretty sure it was the school for the crazy
Directionally challenged and curmudgeonly old ladies

Chorus

Bridge:

You were getting pretty hopeful down on Ave B
But now that we’re on M you’ve nearly given up on me
That light is winking at you and it’s driving you insane
You’d try to get around me too bad it’s a single lane

Well it’s finally time to lose me at any cost
Might go mile out or you could end up getting lost
Try to turn right but suddenly out of the blue
I decide to make that right, right in front of you

Chorus

Not as rock themed…but possibly another for the AOL!

911331fafe7df2be2a75a76e20b9ebf29b1054be8d4f6b1d6d452538b1c2f770

Wake Me When The Show Is Over

I used to wait til midnight then it was time to rock
Now I’m frightened if a band goes on past 10 o clock

Pre Chorus:
So find me a nice corner
Safe from the mosh pit
Throw an MC over me
Whatever you see fit
And you can call me old
And you can go ahead and mock
Just tell everybody else
How hard I friggin rocked

Chorus:
Cause it’s hard to get your kicks
When you’re waking up at six
Call me old, call me a poseur
But just wake, oh wake me, wake me, when the show is over

Well I have seen Black Sabbath, The Rolling Stones and more
But every time I just end up passed up on the floor

Pre Chorus
So put my somewhere safe
A little out of touch
If they ask just tell them
That I drank too much
Fill me in on details
So I can give my take
Of how it would have been if I
Were actually awake

Chorus
Cause it’s hard to get your kicks
When you’re waking up at six
Call me old, call me a poseur
But just wake, oh wake me, wake me when the show is over

Bridge:
Well it used to be I didn’t even wake up until noon
And I didn’t leave my house until the rising of the moon
But now that kind of living well it’s showing me no mercy
Especially when I am having dinner at 4:30.

Another, and quite possibly the last for a while…for The Angsty Old Ladies!

barplank

Squeezin’ Into Spandex Again

The chain mail bra the leather skirt
I tug and pull and kvetch
And after all the time gone by
I’m lucky these things stretch
Cause I will not reveal my weight
And I won’t tell my size
But I’m trading in my mom jeans for
Some skinny fit low rise

Chorus:

I’m squeezing into spandex again
I’m having a night out with my friends
I’m thinking that I’m cool but maybe no one’s fooled
I’m squeezing into spandex again

Lie on the bed and summon family
Tightening my grip
And tell them all come on and help me
Getting these things zipped
Then stuff my legs in platform boots
And help me get upright
I’ll hobble round and not sit down
For the rest of the night

Chorus

Bridge:

I’m an aging metal momma
Lookin for a some brand new tricks
And I’m getting down in leather
Right until the lining rips
Gotta anaconda smile
And it’s all around the town
And I’m a hottie with a body
Least until I turn around
I’m a leather and lace lovely
I’m hood top dancing baby
Til the fuzz will lock me up because
They’re thinking that I’m crazy
All you young ones step aside
Because I’m joining in the ranks
And I hold it all together with
A badass pair of Spanx

Rockin’ out for the Angsty Old Ladies!

article-2130685-12a07182000005dc-890_233x554

I Broke My Hip In The Mosh Pit

I broke my hip in the mosh pit
I don’t remember that it ever was so rough
When was it that 13 year olds got so goddamn tough
I broke my hip in the mosh pit

I broke my hip in the mosh pit
I know they told me that I just should stay in back
But I could not resist and then something went crack
I broke my hip in the mosh pit

They lifted me above the crowd
To an ambulance I’m hurtling
But half the people thought that I
Was doing some crowd surfing

I broke my hip in the mosh pit
I didn’t know it would have been so damn ferocious
‘Specially with early onset osteoporosis
I broke my hip in the mosh pit

Another one for The Angsty Old Ladies!

ignored10

Botched Botox Blues

I thought that I was getting an
Injection near my mouth
I never did expect it when
It all just traveled south
And though my lips don’t pucker so
Who’s really gonna snicker
Because although my mouth may sag
My boobs are looking bigger

Chorus:

They say it ain’t malpractice
So I can’t really sue
Guess that I’ll just settle
For those botched botox blues

So next they told me that I’d need
Some filler near my eyes
I wear now an expression that’s
Of permanent surprise
My eyebrows look a bit like Spock
My smiles a bit spastic
But I guess that’s the price you pay
When your completely plastic

Chorus

Bridge:

Hoping someone thought my son
Would look more like my brother
Instead it turns out that I look
More like Joan River’s mother

I’m shocked that they don’t cut me off
Cause it should be illegal
I’m sucked and plucked and overtucked
Can’t even feel the needle
I’ve bumps and lumps and red spots and
My wallets getting thin
And once it heals I have to do it
All over again

Chorus

Thank you all for reading my articles but I think maybe some of you may be missing my poetry. I really haven’t been writing poems much but I have some song lyrics I’ll be publishing over the next few days. I’m thinking of starting a band with female musicians of a certain age called The Angsty Old Ladies. These are the lyrics to one of the songs. I’m actually not sure I’ll be able to get the band off the ground due to certain logistics problems, but it will sure be fun writing the lyrics.

imgres

The Stuff of Life

I’d like to fiercely look at kids
Outside my bedroom window
And, who cares if I won or not?
I’ll randomly yell “Bingo!”

My face will be carefully set
In an unpleasant frown
Draw one eyebrow that’s going up
The other going down

Pack my purse with hard candies
Of all sorts til it’s leaden
Enough to certify it as
A well known lethal weapon

Put on some eau du Bengay just
To mask that mothball smell
Ask “what was that?” although I can
Hear you perfectly well

Hold up people needlessly
At grocery store lines
Drive slowly while my blinker light
Is going at all times

Remember everything but still
Demand that you remind me
And don’t you dare to tell me that
My best years are behind me

This poem is in response to Amanda at Just In Queso to write a prompt to your future self. Here’s her take on it: https://justinqueso.wordpress.com/2016/02/09/letter-to-future-me/

images

Thank You, Good Night

We’ve been playing music now
For twenty years or more
Rocked a milliion faces as
We headed out on tour

But when old Steve was windmilling
He went and broke a hip
As they wheeled him off the stage
He said “It’s time to quit”

Then we sat and reflected on
The years that had gone by
And thought we could do one more tour
We’d aptly name “Goodbye”

And Stevie he would windmill too
But this time with more caution
And we’d put tickets up for sale
That cost fans a small fortune

With the event’s magnanity
All witnesses would bask
In music’s event of the year
The tour to be our last

And tears were shed and songs were sung
We wore our wigs, hid fat
And then with sadness and relief
We knew that that was that

And for a few years quiet reigned
With each fall, spring and summer
Until one day the doorbell rang
And standing there our drummer

And those fateful three words came out
“Retirement’s a bore”
And that’s exactly what we would
Be calling our next tour

And though a valiant effort made
In each show that went past
Our age apparent so we knew
This tour would be our last

Until our bass player showed up
Looking pretty crummy
And asked if we could do one more
Cause he needed the money

So then followed the Farewell Tour
And then the Farewell 2
The Ciao For Now and The Peace Out
Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu

The Smell You Later Alligator
Then The Thank You, Good Night
The Last Tour We Swear To God
And On Our Mother’s Life

Now we’re out here playing clubs
An audience of two
And that includes the lighting guy
And the cleaning crew

We strike signature poses but
Look like we soon will drop
Our fan are holding posters high
That say things like “please stop”

And now we’re on The Absolutely
Positive Last Tour
Although We Aren’t Absolutely
Positively Sure

This poem was inspired by a book of the same name by Andy Abramowitz.

Below is footage from Kiss’ final tour of 2000, another one that didn’t stick.

Elvis Has Left The Building

The makeup, bras, the lingerie
The Vegas golden age
I wait amongst the wreckage as
I hear them up on stage

Ned did Elvis pretty good
Gyrated every beat
But now I hear he gives out fliers
Down on Freemont St.

First Elvis thin then the Elvis fat
Then Elvis past his prime
Then Ned would leave the building for
What would be the last time

John does a mean Gaga and
He rocks on the piano
If he can hide that manly chin
And his five o clock shadow

Maria’s worried her Britney
Will soon fade from demand
As the pop star grows older
And with her so her fans

She contemplates a nip right there
A tuck here and a lift
To last her through the next five years
She’ll go as Taylor Swift

And Armand blows his afro out
Discreetly snorts a line
It gets harder to party like
It’s 1999

But is it love or money or
The warmth of the stage lights
That keeps the fire burning brightly
Each and every night

Or is it once the clothing’s hung
And wigs back on the shelves
We have to face another day
Of just being ourselves.

This post was inspired by my impending trip to Las Vegas. I won’t be posting for the next week and will do my best to stop in on your blogs while I’m gone.

url

Cheap Plastic Pens

One day my words will dry up,
Like a cheap plastic pen,
Will I proceed to attempt,
To write as I do then?

And will you still find my words,
Marginally pretty,
Comment or give it a like,
Simply out of pity?

Perhaps just as a habit,
I’ll write until I drop,
And no one will be kind enough,
To say it’s time to stop.

Maybe hoping to recreate,
Genius of days before,
Or craving human contact,
Or maybe I’m just bored.

Cranking out a hackneyed thought,
A hamster on a wheel,
And could it really be so far,
From how Mick Jagger feels.

imgres

Cover Band Man

Step down old man, step down, step down,
Cause there’s a fresh face here in town,
He’s cool, he’s hot, he’s now, he’s new,
He does your schtick better than you.

He tours the world he’s got it made,
I hear he’s even getting laid,
By a whole group of hot, young chicks,
Who come while looking at your pics.

They wonder if you’re still alive,
He’s running through your life’s archive,
It doesn’t take long to discover,
That the music this guy covers,
Clearly wins popular vote,
As the best stuff you ever wrote.

And now it is so clear to see,
You’re not the man you used to be,
You can’t compete, you’ll only loose,
A cover band man fills your shoes.

Who will never know the hindrances,
Drama or creative differences,
Or have everyone sing the tune,
Of crap you wrote in your bedroom.

But play the verses to the letter,
Just like you and sometimes better,
And you wish you had only knew,
How fun it could be to be you.

Inspired by on online conversation I had with Mark Bialczak,  http://markbialczak.com/author/markbialczak/

imgres-23