Tag Archives: misunderstandings

You Don’t Know Me

We exchange pleasantries online or on the town;
you’ve read my poetry and perhaps you have found
some similarity between yourself and me,
but you don’t know me.

We talk of politics or turns that life may make;
something I say perhaps prevents a new mistake;
but nonetheless it’s wrong, because you’ve heard my song
to think you know me.

How could you know unless you’ve felt my pain,
from a life that is not your own?
All that you have is your experience;
not my life – that is mine alone.

We’ve shared a meal or two, maybe a glass of wine;
not quite enough to know just where to draw the line.
I’ve not been in your shoes; you’ve never sung my blues,
so you don’t know me.

Almost acquaintances: that’s all we really are;
I wouldn’t push the definition all that far
without me cheapening what should be deepening:
no, you don’t know me.

How could you know what makes me tick inside
in a day, or brief afternoon?
There’s more to me than shallow “seem-to-be’s”,
that simple melody is not my tune.

We’ve only just begun to plumb the hidden depths;
as far as I’m concerned sometimes, it seems we’ve barely met.
There’s so much I don’t know about you, and I know
that you don’t know me.

My number’s on speed dial, and yours is likewise stored;
but it’s a simple truth, and cannot be ignored:
you want to call me friend, but just “sort of” pretend.
Well, you don’t know me.

26 JUN 2006

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Songwriter Blues

A songwriter walks on the slimmest of threads
to balance what’s in his heart versus his head;
sometimes, random thoughts will inspire him to sing
words that aren’t about his life or any damned thing.

Emotions in motion, a mood for a day,
the lines on the page don’t relate any way
to the life he’s living and good things he’s found;
sometimes in the looking glass things get turned ’round.

A song’s inspiration can come from nowhere:
a phrase from a movie, the shape of a chair;
from someone singing the line as you write
imagining your song is their song tonight.

Your loved ones imagine you’re talking of them,
and take your songs personally, now and again;
they don’t understand it just don’t work that way,
and feel hurt no matter what else you can say.

Sure, my life is in every song that I write,
some more and some less, some real heavy, some light;
but I’m not my lyrics, my poems or verse.
I work in third person, for better or worse.

A song about leaving don’t mean I must go;
one that says I’m brilliant does not make it so.
I’ve got songs from good times, and others from bad,
and some drawn from thoughts someone else might have had.

A songwriter balances truth with a dream,
and finds hell and heaven, and points in between
where honkytonk angels and demons are poised
to drown out his voice with the tiniest noise.

05 MAR 2006

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Don’t Say a Word

Don’t say a word; let the silence between us
deepen and swallow us whole;
forget who was in control,
who had the more meaningful role.

Don’t say a word; let not speaking remind us
of what can be better unsaid;
better to not be misled,
or say something ill of the dead.

Besides, talking never was easy to do;
our love was a sentence cut off half way through,
each word like a weapon used only to prove
that I believed me, and that you believed you.

Nothing but silence is left to us now;
no need for explaining or wondering how
the things left unspoken worth talking about
weren’t worth the time figuring out.

Don’t make a sound; let the calm quiet take you
out beyond the reach of my voice;
you and I both made that choice,
opted for different noise.

Don’t make a sound; even the slightest whisper
might shatter our reason tonight;
and keep us together in spite
of what we both know to be right.

Besides, all our talking has come to no good:
our love never grew up the way that it should,
but used words like weapons to tear us apart,
each comment a dagger in each other’s heart.

Nothing but silence is left us to share;
no need for pretending to bother to care.
The things left unspoken we both didn’t say
won’t matter much after today.

09 FEB 2006

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One More Man

If I could never be the one
to make you smile like you say he may have done
Then why do you always seem to run
to me?

If I could never take his place
to bring that smile you lost back to your face
Then why do you always seem to race
here to me?

Maybe it’s just something that I’ll never understand
Maybe it’s your mystery that makes me give a damn
All that I can offer is to try the best I can
After all, I’m only one more man
who loves you.

If I could never be enough
to help you through when the times start getting tough
Then why do you always seem to need me
to back your your bluff?

If I could never understand
just what it takes to be your lover man
Then why do you always seem to stand
so close to me?

When you call me, what are you expecting me to say?
I will be your shoulder when you cry.
When you hold me close and whisper “what is there to do?”
What is it you want me to reply?

Maybe it’s just something that I’ll never understand
Maybe it’s your mystery that makes me give a damn
All that I can do for you is try the best I can
but after all, I’m only one more man
who loves you.

Just another hopeless, foolish man
who loves you.


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