Reno (2)
Summer Bummer, it’s almost summer. You can hear the thunder. How many seconds until you hear that sound means it’s miles away. It smiles away. When we hear that sound, our smiles turn upside down the other way around to frowns. The rain is about to come down. The rain is coming to town. If it lasts a while, I’ll lose my smile. If it comes out, I’ll start to pout. I’ll count on my fingers to see how long it will linger. It may seem meager, but I’m eager for it to go away. So we can come outside and play all day. We’ll go inside when it rains. We come out in numbers when it’s summer to stay as cool as cucumbers. I couldn’t be any dumber even if I lay around the pool looking like a fool with cucumber slices on my eyes. Boy, do I feel cool eventhough I look like a fool laying around this pool. It’s the summer, and it couldn’t be funner. I couldn’t be cooler even if I was a high-schooler or a drummer. They’re looking for a lead guitarist and the latest star is me. I’m cooler than a lumberjack. At least, I don’t have plumbers’ crack. The cracks come out in numbers during the heat in the summer. And all the new comers come to stay as cool as cucumbers. I can’t let myself break into a sweat. I can’t let myself wake up in a sweat. When I start to steam, I start to scream. I can’t beam with joy only if I was in St. Croix. I’m a stunner and I’m cooler than a runner. Running in the summer, I can’t get any dumber. A runner is cooler when he’s running in the summer. Running in the thunder. Running in the rain. As the rain pours, why are they running for? It keeps them as cool as cucumbers. They’re coming in the numbers, and they’re new comers running to a concert. How can it hurt? They’ve came so far. They are the stars. They’ve ran through the mud and in the dirt. They can be cooler if they lay around a pool with cucumber slices on their eyes to keep them cool eventhough they look like fools. Don’t be cruel. Be true; it makes you wanna drool. It’s your tool. You wanna stay cool in the summer even when you hear the thunder coming and the new comers. We need a drummer. We need a lead guitarist, and the super star is me. Lets rumba in the summer eventhough my legs are like rubber. Do you remember when the rain came and we rumbaed in the thunder? Excuse me sir, will you take off your shirt? Will you shake off the dirt? Let me wash off the dirt with water when it gets hotter. I like to water my plants. The hotter my pets, they begin to sweat; they begin to pant. That’s why I gotta make them wet. We need thunder during the summer. Turtle and the Hare The turtle and the hare. The hare doesn’t care; he knows that he’s unfair. He knows he has the legs; he knows the turtle’s got the eggs to lay. It’s a race. It’s a relay race; nothing can delay the race even if it’s the hare’s in my way race; or it’s the hare’s in my face race. The hare knows he runs at a faster pace. He’s gonna rub it in the turtle’s face. He’s really fast, but he’ll come in last. Winning will be in his past. The turtle has a hurdle that he has to get over. The hare has a hurdle that is easy to get over. He can just hop over it. While he hops, the hare decides to stop. He goes to bed on the side while he’s ahead. The turtle is fertile and has the eggs; the hare is fast and has the legs. If the hare loses, he’ll be the one with egg on his face. It’s the leg of the race, and the hare’s still asleep. Victory is the turtle’s to keep; he takes a flying leap. He may be slow, but he’s always on the go. The hare is fast, but he’ll come in last. The turtle is a tortoise, and he can afford this. He’s gonna hoard this; he’s going towards this. He’s working for this. He has a tough exterior eventough he knows his legs are inferior. But he’s superior. On the side, the hare opens his eyes and is surprised to find the turtle has crossed the finish line. He reaps what he sows. The turtle keeps what he grows. He takes a flying leap and goes. The turtle may be slow, but he’s on a roll. Victory is sweet; victory is his to keep. He takes a flying leap, while the hare is still asleep and crosses the finish line. He does a beep beep while the hare’s in a deep sleep; then he woke up and got choked up on the side and realized when he opened his eyes; and he was surprised to find the turtle crossed the finish line. Victory is sweet and is the turtle’s to keep. He won while the rabbit was still asleep by taking a flying leap and crossing the finish line and shouting, “Victory is mine ” The turtle felt so fine now that he could fly. Victory was sweet but the hare was sour. He came in second in just an hour. He came in dead last in just a second. Just a second I’m changing into my loser clothes. I didn’t know a turtle so slow would be on the go and would be on my tail if I failed. I wouldn’t have trailed in dead last if I would have went to bed last. Now, I’m ahead last. Now that I have lost, winning is in the past. The turtle is in his shell eventough he won by himself. He has a tough exterior eventhough his legs are inferior but he’s superior. The turtle was egged on so he won the leg of the race, and he rubbed it in the rabbit’s face while the hare was still asleep. The turtle knew victory was his to keep. So he took a flying leap and crossed the finish line and screamed, “Victory is mine ” The turtle felt fine now that he can fly. On the side, the hare opened his eyes and realized he was surprised to find the turtle crossed the finish line. He reaps what he sows. He keeps what he grows. The turtle leaps and goes eventhough he knows he’s slow; eventhough he knows he’s old. The turtle’s going to be bold and not listen to what he’s been told, and he’ll get the gold. The hare is shocked; he’s never lost. He’s won at all costs and was the boss until he lost now, and all he could say was wow. The hare never knows; he reaps what he sows. The turtle keeps what he grows and leaps and goes eventhough he knows he’s slow; eventhough he knows he’s old. The turtle doesn’t listen to what he’s been told, and he wins the gold. He is bold and can’t keep hold. Victory is sweet; victory is his to keep. And the turtle takes a flying leap while the hare’s in a deep sleep. And when he crosses the finish line, the turtle screams, “Victory is mine ” He feels so fine now that he can fly. On the side, the hare opens his eyes and realizes that he’s surprised to find the turtle already crossed the finish line. The turtle is fertile and has the eggs; he’s got the shell eventhough he fell. But the turtle managed to win by himself. The hare’s got the legs eventhough he didn’t win the race. The turtle was egged on. And on the leg of the race, “In your face Victory is mine, since I crossed the finish line Victory is sweet; victory is mine to keep. I took a flying leap when I saw you were asleep. You were in a deep sleep. Lets do this again sometime, but I haven’t ever let you win even one time. Victory is mine ” Phobia A phobia is something we don’t know about, and we go about our lives with fright in our lives, with fright in our eyes. We’re all made of something; we’re all afraid of something. We’re not afraid of nothing. We’re all afraid of one thing, and that’s our phobia that we are aware of; that we are scared of; that we know about and see no way out. We go about our lives with fright in our lives; with fright in our eyes. It’s cliche, the way you say; the way you stay away everyday. Is there a phobia I haven’t heard of? I never knew people feared having peanut butter stuck to the roof of their mouths. I never knew people feared having peanut butter stuck to the roof of their house or feared knowing about people from the South. For people who fear the English, I think that’s meanless. It has no meaning to me. Everything has people that can’t get enough of. They’re in love, and they think it’s a gift from above. Everything, also, has people that are afraid of; they’re afraid of love, they’re afraid of getting enough. Tough love is what their made of. A phobia is what they’re afraid of and what they know about. It’s something they’re aware of; it’s something they’re scared of; it’s something they can take care of if they just start to love. Don’t go about our lives with fright in your lives; with fright in your eyes. We need to go about our lives with light in our lives; with light in our eyes We’re all made of something; we’re all afraid of something; we’re not afraid of nothing; we’re all afraid of one thing and that’s our phobia that we are aware of; that we are scared of; that we know about and see no way out. We go about our lives with fright in our lives; with fright in our eyes. Don’t go about your lives with fright in your lives; with fright in your eyes. Go about your lives with light in your lives; with light in your eyes. It’s cliche, the way you say; it’s cliche, the way you stay away everyday. Is there a phobia I haven’t heard of? All these phobias I’ve heard enough. All your fears would disappear if you just had some love. I never knew people feared having peanut butter stuck to the roof of their mouth. I never knew people feared having peanut butter stuck to the roof of their house or feared knowing about people from the south. For people who fear the English, I think that’s meanless. It has no meaning to me. Don’t mean to be mean; don’t be mean to me. You know I’m sorry. Everything has people that can’t get enough of. They’re in love, and they think it’s a gift from above. Everything, also, has people that are afraid of. They’re afraid of love; they hate to love; they’re afraid of getting enough. Tough love is what they’re made of. Rough love is what they’re afraid of. A phobia is what they’re afraid of and what they know about. It’s something they’re aware of; it’s something they’re scared of; it’s something they can take care of if they just start to love. Gonna Break I’m gonna break God out of prison. I’m gonna break God out of jail. It’s not gonna fail. Now listen; this is how I’m gonna break him out; this is how I’m gonna wake him up. If it’s caught happening, that doesn’t mean that it’s not happening. I’m gonna wake him up in the middle of the night when his breakout is nowhere in sight. When no one can see, and he can be free. I like jewelry, but ankle bracelets don’t even look that good. God is almighty and all powerful and all good; with all my might and all my power, I’m gonna break him out of jail and make everything all good. I’m gonna let him out; I’m gonna get him out; I’m gonna break him out; I’m gonna take him out. He’s gonna make it out. Is that a crime? He’s already done his time. I want it omni; I hope he wants me to be free. Don’t you see? I want God to be free like a genie. It’s not eenie meenie; it’s not that small; I want it all. I want to be a free spirit, and I want God to hear it. I want God to be free, and that’s what I want to be. I want to be free; now don’t you see? Wow I can’t believe you see. I can’t think you believe. Now I really feel relieved. I feel like I’ve received a gift from God for breaking him out, bringing him out, and waking him up. I’m letting him be free and that is what I wanna be. I want to see him before me, then I’ll know that I’ll succeed. It is more than a want; it is a need. I wish someone would give me the keys so I could let God be free. That is what I wish to be. It’s more than a wish; it is more than a dream; it is a need. I need to let him out. I need to get him out. I need to break him out. I need to take him out. I need to wake him up in the middle of the night, when his breakout is nowhere in sight; and it’s the night time. No one can spot him; no one has caught him; no one has got him or me in their custody; no one can see, and he and me can be free. God and me want to be free. We need to be free. He and me are on the hunt to be free, so he and me run to be free. Because we want to be free. See? We need to be free. I hope you can’t see he or me escaping. I hope we don’t fall in a hole that’s gaping. I hope you don’t see him; I hope you don’t see me coming; coming to attack you; coming to get back at you. It may seem eenie meenie, but it’s not that small. I want God to be free, and that is what I want to be. I want it all. I want it omni. I hope he wants me to be free. Don’t you see? I want God to be free like a genie. I want to be a free spirit, and I want God to hear it. I want God to be free, and that’s what I want to be. That’s what I believe is the right thing; that’s what I see as the right thing. Is that a crime? He’s already done his time. Now listen. No matter what, I’m gonna break God out of prison no matter what. I’m gonna break God out of jail, and it’s not gonna fail no matter what. Me Casa es Su Casa Me casa es su casa. My house is your house, and you can just come right in. What I do, you can do too. Because my house is your house too. Part of it belongs to you. You don’t live on your own, which means that you’re not alone. I don’t want you to do everything and throw out your back, because I know you won’t come back after that. I want you to do something; it’ll be like doing nothing. I don’t want you to throw your clothes on the floor or mix the darks with the whites. Or have them in one load and wash them on cold. And I watch as they shrink. They don’t do that in the kitchen sink. It’s no use if you do everything wrong. Can you do anything right? If you did things right, they wouldn’t take so long. In my house, when I say, Thank you, you don’t have to say, You’re welcome eventhough you’re welcome to come in. You can just come right in. My crib is your crib. This is a crib you can always stay and live in. This is the crib you can always come in. This is the only home you can call home, but I won’t make you call home to your parents. I don’t want them to find you, because living with me, they’ll start to not like you. They’ll wonder why you’re in my house and why you live in it. They’ll wonder why you’re in my crib and why you live in it. Well ,this is your house too. This is your crib to live in too. When they say, Thank you, you don’t have to say, You’re welcome. You’re welcome to come on in and you should just come right in. But your parents, they’re not welcome to come on in. They better not come right in. Because you’re staying in my crib. This is your crib too to live in, and your parents better butt out and better scat off. I know that’s mean to say, but that’s what I mean to say. My house is your house too. My crib is your crib to live in. My house belongs to you. And you know that’s the truth. Why would I lie? What I do, you can do too. Because my house is your house too. My crib is your crib to live in. My chair is your chair to sit in. My air is your air to let in. My air is your air to breathe in. My fair is your fair to be in. Part of it belongs to you. My crib is your crib to live in too. My house is our crib that I won’t let your parents get in to. They’re the ones I won’t let you give into. Don’t listen to them. I know you’re missing them. They miss hugging you, all because they miss bugging you. Knock, and you can just come right in. Tell your parents it’s locked, and they can’t come right in. The only way in is for them to fight right in.
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Copyright © 2005 Kari L Starnes |