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Progressive Silence by R Bennett Okerstrom Sometimes there is no sound. Starting over never works. [79 words]
Waiting For Heather by Branson Storm A poem to my lost soulmate. [155 words]
Wound by Jay Mallick - [43 words]
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Rock 'n Rollers Ball
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Rock 'n Rollers Ball
I wrote this for my Dad, in response to his constant despair at the "depth" of current music, and also for a friend of mine on the internet who knows about as many of the old songs as I do. There's some good music out there now, to be sure, but this is for them.
[388 words]
Joan Bentley
A 22 year old college senior, I finally started writing a little over a year ago, just because I suddenly found I had a very insistent Muse. My goal?? World Peace... Yeah, I know, I know... but I think it might be a nice change of pace. Don't you?
[April 2002]
[email protected]
Making Connections (Short Stories) Ever thought about where you would go if you killed yourself, what it would be like? Ever wonder why it is we are on the internet and on the chat channels so much? What do we expect and hope to find... [7,087 words] [Fantasy]
Sometimes She Writes (Poetry) This is a short thing that just came to me one night, about why and for whom I write my poems and stories and letters. [244 words]
The Old Horse (Short Stories) I wrote this one for my Dad and Arnold Palmer, believe it or not. Every year I would watch the U.S. Open with Dad and he would say, "God...I wish for just 4 days Arnold Palmer could have his old skil... [1,915 words] [Motivational]
Where Does My Heart Go From Here? (Short Stories) It is my belief that John Donne's "No man is an island" dictum is 180 degrees wrong. I think we are all islands, because no one can ever know exactly how we think, or feel, or perceive and that the o... [1,501 words] [Relationships]
Rock 'n Rollers Ball
Joan Bentley

Come one, Come all
To the Rock 'n Rollers ball.
We will start if with a prayer...
Spanish Castles in the air.
And we know you'll like our host
even though he is a ghost.
Now Frank Zappa takes the stage
in the "suit" that's all the rage.
Scruffy shirt and baggy pants.
As he starts his raves and rants.

Back there once upon a time
Songs were more than just a rhyme.
Then the music filled a need.
Not just sex and not just greed.
There were songs that made you dance.
There were songs about romance.
There were songs that made you feel.
That had meaning, that were real.
There were songs that made you soar.
There were songs that fought a war.
There were songs that made you whole.
It was rock, and it was roll.

Ah the Beatles and the Stones,
Johnny Rotten, the Ramones,
Living Color and the Clash.
Not just "kids" and not just thrash.
Groups with substance like the Band.
Springsteen showed us Jungleland.
We had Sting and Ozzy, too.
Oh, forget that, so do you.
We had Dylan switch to rock.
You had New Kids on the Block.
We had Rumours and the Wall.
You have...anything at all?

Now Frank's really on a roll.
Where's the black songs, where's the soul?
Then he asked where they had gone.
"Marvin Gaye, what's going on?"
Where's the black rock for the brain,
Purple Haze and Purple Rain?
James Brown's funk and R and B.
Not just I and not just me.
Public Enemy had meat
With it's message from the street.
There's a purity to rap...
It's just sad that most is crap.

I know all our songs weren't great.
There were many second-rate.
Bad Company rocked steady,
But remember, "Do the Freddy"?
I'll admit that some was fluff.
Some made money with that stuff.
Many more, though, used their songs
To do battle with the wrongs.
Many gave it all they had,
To eliminate the bad.
Feed the hungry, help the poor.
Did I mention, stop a war?
So before the bands all play,
Just in closing let me say,
In the words of funky Sly...
"We can make it if we try."

Now he turns without a word.
A few claps and cheers are heard.
Then he points his ghostly hand
At the gala's opening band.
Now the crowd is in a tizzy,
Because isn't that Thin Lizzy?
And though Frank had brought them down,
Hey!...the boys are back in town!
So the ball took off at last.
Everybody had a blast.
Playing loud and playing fast,
Not remembering the past.

And Frank stood there with a smile,
'Cause he'd known if for a while.
That while good works is a goal,
Hell!...It's only rock and roll...


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© 2001 Joan Bentley
April 2002

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