I’m me
Cuz I’m not you
And I hate everything
You do
I hate hate hate hate hate you
And I hate your stupid group
You’re a bunch of stupid losers
And you’re all full of poop
I hate everything you do
I hate everything you say
I could fix the whole world
If you just went away
I have a pair of handrails:
Anger and disgust
I don’t hate you cuz I want to
I hate you cuz I must
by Richard W. Bray
You can talk till you turn blue
You can say what he should do
So he can be someone like you
You can call in kith and kin
And have them add up all his sin
But you ain’t never gonna win
You can devise a perfect plan
So he can be a better man
But you will never understand
You can bitch; you can complain
But there’s nothing you will gain
Cuz you’re never gonna talk a person sane
by Richard W. Bray
There was no shutting them down! Whether we had anything for them to do or not, they ran all the time! And were they ever loud! Oh, God, were they ever loud.
—Kurt Vonnegut, Galapagos
People and people screaming with need
Their dreams and desires and egos to feed
Attacking my senses and making me bleed
Bloody compassion fills me inside
My fragile existence cannot abide
I’ll dig me a hole where I can hide
But even alone I can’t clear my head
Voices and voices of anguish and dread
Rattle the skull until we are dead
by Richard W. Bray
Did I forget to tell you
That your boss left a note?
“Come to work or you’re fired”
Is all she wrote
I made you egg salad
Was it such a fiasco?
There wasn’t any mayo
So I just used Tabasco
Glad to hear you’re dating
We were so distressed
So you like the other gender
Whoda’ ever guessed?
Everyone agrees
He’s the best you’ll ever do
But we can’t figure out
What he sees in you
So I forgot to feed your pets
Don’t be such a bore
You need to check your values
You can always get some more
Lighten up as little
And give me a break
You’re so uptight
Like you never make mistakes
by Richard W. Bray
Sometimes perhaps you don’t want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that’s true!
—Langston Hughes, Theme for English B
Separation
Is illusion
Bringing pain
And much confusion
We tear our lovely
World to bits
To believe
That we exist
We devastate
And we devour
Accumulating
Stuff and power
What is life?
And what is matter?
Songs of Self
Just make us sadder
by Richard W. Bray
A universe of traits
Lively and sedate
Butch and straight
Matron and girly
Smooth and curvy
Delicate and nervy
Nimble and bold
Young and old
Precious like gold
Fun and feral and silly and wise
In every shape and shade and size
You make the world a lovely place
In three point seven billion ways
by Richard W. Bray
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
—Phillip Larkin
In our lust for power and pelf
We pass on pain to son and daughter
I’ve passed along much hurt myself
It spreads and spreads like dye in water
Our lives are sad; our fate is strange
Life just seems like one big trap
Human beings will never change
Is existence merely crap?
Life is pain; there’s no exemption
I don’t seek meaning up above
Succor pain and seek redemption
In every act of hope and love
by Richard W. Bray
Time was away and somewhere else
—Louis MacNeice, Meeting Point
Together in a room
With no one else around
We dance to a tune
That doesn’t make a sound
Where dreamers rhapsodize
Inside a cozy space
With my eyes locked in your eyes
We put the world in its place
by Richard W. Bray
And I wonder sometimes, what is it in me that hates me?
—Richard Wilbur, Complaint
What was I thinking?
Am I insane?
I wonder what happens
Inside my brain
Boss took me out
To announce my promotion
I puked on his shoes
And got a demotion
Whenever life hands me
The perfect shot
It ties up my tongue
In a perfect knot
She asked for my number
I was ready to score
Why did I tell her
She looks like a whore?
Whenever I’m offered
A True Romance
I flub all my lines
And ruin my chance
My mind is an iceberg
I just see the tip
I cannot control
What comes across my lips
by Richard W. Bray
You mesmerized me
Strumming your lute
Cuz you’re really, really, really, really cute
I got an ache so
Stunning and acute
Cuz you’re really, really, really, really cute
I’d give everything I got
To taste your fruit
Cuz you’re really, really, really, really cute
I spend every minute
Planning my pursuit
Cuz you’re really, really, really, really cute
Down in Beaumont, up in Boston
Out in Butte
There ain’t another woman
Half as cute
I’m dying here
But you don’t give a hoot
You already know you’re really, really cute
by Richard W. Bray
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