Walk on the Wild Side- Lou Reed Tribute

Standing on a corner
Suitcase in my hand
Lisa says
“I’m waiting for my man”
And I say “Hey, babe,
Take a walk on the wild side.
Sail the darkened seas.
Your European son is gone,
Bye, bye, bye.”

Shiny, shiny
Shiny boots of leather
And a big straw hat
But what costume shall the poor girl wear?
A femme fatale
Beginning to see the light

What goes on in your mind?
I don’t know
Just where I’m going
But anyone who ever had a heart
They wouldn’t turn around and break it
How does it feel
To be loved?

Life’s like
Sanskrit read to a pony
But despite all the amputations
Despite all the computations
What’s good?
Life’s good
And it was all right

This is my tribute to Lou Reed who passed away last Sunday.  This is completely made up of lines from Lou’s songs with the Velvet Underground and a couple of his solo songs.  Sort of a poetry/musical/lyrical collage.
I’m not sure if it really fits with Anna’s Meeting the Bar post on dVerse, but I’ll just throw it out there and let everyone else decide. 🙂


Sound and Vision

Beethoven: Symphony No. 7  by David Eric Cummins

Beethoven: Symphony No. 7 by David Eric Cummins

Lightning dances
Across the mind’s eye
Radiating energy
Illuminating vision
That sees beyond reality
To see the unseen
Sound and vision
Become one
Seeing music
Hearing light
For an instant
Day is night
And night is day
And color
Begins to speak

I originally posted this about a year ago, but when I read Victoria C. Slotto‘s prompt on dVerse about “Synesthesia”, or sensory confusion, this poem immediately sprang to mind.  The painting is one I did using pieces of string and thread coated with paint and slapped against the canvas.

Solitary Confinement

Repeat and repeat
Separated only by drive time
And trying to live
A few lost hours
Til days begin to blur
And the sun feels like a stranger
I ought to…
I’d like to…
But there’s no time

Everywhere I look
But sometimes this life feels like
Solitary confinement

NaPoWriMo 2013 post #12…Inspired by the song by the UK punk band The Members.

To Kurt

19 years ago
Of all places
In a music store, I stood
My weekly ritual
Browsing cds and cassettes
When a man walked in
Approached the store owner at the counter
“Did you hear about Kurt Cobain?
Did you hear
He’s dead?”

Those words
Like a kick in the balls
An icy chill
Spreading across my chest

“Yeah.  It’s a shame.  Such a waste.”
The owner responded
As I left
No longer in any mood
To browse cds

That night
In the shadow of my hero’s image
Posters like blood
Hanging on my bedroom walls
My brothers and I
Listening to that scratchy growl
The voice that spoke to us
Raising our beers
(Though only I was of age)
Offering the toast
We would offer again and again
In years to come

“To Kurt”


NaPoWriMo 2013 post #9 and dVerse Open Link Night #91



I never got to know you

As well as I would have liked

Most of my memories of you

Are like something viewed

Through a distant window


The quiet rebel

The pot smoking hippy

Who could have told me

Some great stories


I did hear the story

Growing up

Of the clean cut kid

In Buddy Holly glasses

Joining the Navy

Off to see the world

Though, as a child, I didn’t really understand

All the words:


MP’s at my grandparents door


How my mother said she’d prayed

Every night of those months

For her younger brother’s safe return


You returned

A new man



Bearded and long haired

With John Lennon glasses

Having traded the uniform of war

For a uniform of peace


My memories of you maybe few

But no less bright

Me, a little boy

Being spun around ’til I was dizzy and giggling

Me, a young man

In need of a ride to work

And a place to spend the night

You were there

Never knowing

How you made me into a fan of The Doors that night

And changed my poetry forever


Yes, I write this for you

Because of you

Uncle Buddy

The pot smoking hippy a generation away

Who could still teach the young punk rocker

A thing or two

And now that you’ve broke on through

To the other side

I won’t say rest in peace

I know you will

Because you lived in peace


Possibly the most free man

I’ve ever known


(For my uncle Henry “Buddy” Miles Dec. 7, 1954- Oct. 27, 2012.  Keep rockin’ on the other side, Uncle Bud!)





Art, poetry,

Music and literature

I hear their call

Echoing through reality

To uplift and decorate

This mundane anonymity

Make more

Of what is less

Ink and paper

Paint and canvas

Rhythm and melody

Thoughts and emotions

Made into something




Made into something that speaks

Not of me

Or for me

Something that speaks of and for


Creativity is the spark

The wish on a shooting star

That adds a little


To this eternal dialogue

Of what it means

To be


Child of the System

Stu McPherson’s prompt over at dVerse today is The Art of Rebellion.  So I dug up this nugget from way back in 1994 when my friends and I formed a rebellious little punk rock garage band. I wrote a lot of sneering, middle-finger-waving, punk song lyrics for the band back then, even though we never actually got around to putting music to them… Oh, well- Viva La Revolucion! LOL

Child of the system

You’re a child of the system

You’ll never be the same

No you’ll never know your name

You’re gonna do just what they want you to

You’re gonna do just what they want you to


Don’t look at me. Ha!

I told you so

They got you in the ruts

You’re just one among a million

Society takes away your guts


You’re part of it all

Look at yourself

They got you by the balls

Made you another self-righteous clone

Society keeps you in its walls


Child of the system

You’re a child of the system

You’ll never live again

Your whole life’s in vain

You did just what they wanted you to

You did just what they wanted you to


They said you need a degree

So you got one

Spend the next ten years in debt

Get the job you’re channeled into

You know you’ll be on the PTA yet


You’re setting up for

The American Dream

Whose dream is this anyway?

You’re now one among a million

Another zombie throwing your life away


Child of the system

You’re a child of the system

Your life is not what it seems

An American nightmare, not a dream

But you did just what they wanted you to

But you did just what they wanted you to

I made a lot of posters, t-shirts, etc with various versions of the “Child of the System” figure on them back in my spiky haired youth 😉