bottledWalter

Written: 10/17/01
Words: Walter Koning

Life got you down
Girl not around
Missing kissing

Where’d the last one go
Why is she not allowed
Was something missing

Come to me darling
Love me darling
Speak to me baby

She thought you a clown
She wore me on down
From her there is
No missin’ the kissin’

Written: 3/22/01
Words: Walter Koning

Fade. Fade. Fade. Fade. Fade. Fade. Fade. Fade.
Keep on rocking in the free world, free world, rocking in the free world

Rock. Rock. Rock. Rock. Rock. Rock.
Rockin’ in the free world, free world.

Have respect for the free world, free world
Takes respect in the free world, free world
Trust in the free world, free world
Rockin’ in the free world, free world.

Rock. Rock. Rock. Rock. Rock. Rock.
Rockin’ in the free world, free world.
Love your brother man in the free world, free world
Chivalry ain’t dead in the free world, free world
Sex in the free world, free world
Growing older in the free world, free world

Fade. Fade. Fade. Fade. Fade. Fade. Fade. Fade.
Changing views of the free world, free world
Times gone by hurt the image of the free world, free world
It was true for the free world, free world
Some leaders were wrong in the free world, free world

Took advantage of the Third World, Third World
Should never have happened to the Third World, Third World
Has never ended in the Third World, Third World

Written: 4/26/01
Words: Walter Koning

The wind fell from my sails today
I was roaring ahead, full speed, aiming high, aiming fast
Past times and pastimes. I was ready to bring on summer
with a pocket full of singles and singleness

But no!

The wind fell from my sails today
A casual reminder of a one year review, responded to by a four month wait
Rather than two months ago for my money to grow
It’s four months more, working at this store

I’d be here anyway, I’d survive and do the same things even
So why the fallen sails today?
Why did it feel like I woke up Christmas morning to an empty floor?
Why did I smile less this afternoon?

I was roaring ahead, full speed, aiming high, aiming fast
Now I know my work is judged by time alone and merit later
No bonus for the hardwork
No merit based raises. No added incentive. No money for flying.

Bring on summer. I’ll ride my bike instead.
Strap a cloth to my back, let the wind fill my sails
In four more months I’ll write this all again

Written: 12/23/01
Words: Walter Koning

Eggs
Cooking on my stovetop in the frying pan
Eggs
Frying on the roof of my parents’ van

Life immitating art
I watched those kiddy cartoons
You know what I’m talking about
They’re always cooking eggs on the sidewalk

Eggs
Cooking on my stovetop
Eggs
Frying on my parents’ van

One day it was darn hot
I walked around barefoot
Burning my feet on the sidewalk
Next thing you know
I’m looking for some eggs
Out of the refrigerator
And into my hands

Eggs
Cook in a frying pan
But can they cook on my parents’ van

Tap tap
I crack an egg
Lay it down
Overeasy on the sidewalk
What can I say
It didn’t cook
It didn’t work
What to do
What else is hot
The metal on the van
Burning a hole in my hand

Eggs
Cook in a pan
But can they cook on a van

Two yolks
Drop from my hands to the van
Two whites
Start to run away
No looking back
They aren’t fooled
This ain’t no pan

Eggs
Cooking on my stovetop in a frying pan
Eggs
Proven not to cook on the roof of
My parents’ van

Written: 10/25/01
Words: Walter Koning

My vision is skewed
My eyes are glazed
My contacts stick
To my tearless eyes

I can’t see straight
I stayed up way too late
Now I’m paying the price
In this sightless state

What I need is to go to sleep
To close my eyes
Slip away off deep

Once again I lay in bed
My eyes are closed
They roll back in my head

I see the water falling down
Around the darkness of my pupils
The fluid surrounds

My vision comes back to me
My glaze disappears
My sight still skewed
By these endless tears

When I awake again
When I awake my friend
Is when I awake again and again
And when I awake at the end

I awake to this feeling often
I run and I run once again
I close my eyes to get away
I find that there’s never a way

Now and again the feeling fades
The path lights bright
For my eyes to gaze

I stare a glance to memorize
The view, the feeling inside my eyes
Little remains when it’s said and done
Little remains except a battle I’ve won

I close my eyes and recognize
All the feelings I tend to keep inside
Not dry not sore not restless anymore
The fluid remains to coat the sores

Written: 4/18/01
Words: Walter Koning

We could stand up here and preach to you
With intentions over the top

We could write all day all of our dreams for you
And still not even dent your confused mind

We could keep a journal of our thoughts
Hoping to find the answers that will help you

But what it boils down to is that you’ve got
To want to listen and develop yourself

No ones going to change anything if the thing to
Be changed is opposed through and through

The only way for things to improve is if
We improve your attitude gradually

Improve it too fast, you’ll just be swayed back later
Force it on you and you’ve got our ways, not developed ways

You’ve got to learn what matters and seek help
For how to get there

That’s where we come in
We’ve got your answers

We stand up here and preach to you
But you’ve got to develop yourself

We write all day our dreams for you
But you’ve got to develop yourself

Written: 4/17/01
Words: Walter Koning

Are you on the upswing
Are you on the cutting edge
Do you read that newspaper
Everyday, to appease your head
Have you caught a cab to Macy’s yet today
Nordstrom’s, Hudson’s, they’re all on sale

Are you convinced the media represents reality
Those pictures and people are really like that
It took them two hours of posing
And an hour more to airbrush away
All the blemishs and features you or I would see on them today

Do you believe what you see in the news
Do you believe what you read
Do you believe fashion makes you any more than who you are
Do you believe the world is caught in 20 second video clips

Have you helped an old lady cross the street ever in your life
Have you lent a helping hand to those who live at the banks of a flooding riverside
Are you willing to forgive your neighbor if he’s willing to forgive you too

What cutting edge are you on
If you read about it all and watch it in the news
And go to church to ask forgiveness
And wear the clothes to give off that image
Then why don’t you give anything positive back

Written: 4/6/01
Words: Walter Koning

So many single people everyone waiting for a supermodel
You see an attractive person
Think they should have an attractive spouse
What about those ugly people
Who do they get?
I’d say I’m mediocre and I have the chance at anyone
Who’s to say that I don’t deserve a gorgeous babe?
What about those ugly people
They have a chance at anyone too
There’s nothing stopping a great looking female from being attracted
To a lumpy, lopsided, lazy looking man
But a guy is less likely to go for a woman who doesn’t have it going on

Or maybe it’s our goals
Maybe the woman sought after will match our lifestyles
Our vicarious dreams for our future
If we’re athletic we want an activity partner
If we read we want a literary foil
If we reflect upon the 1800’s the industrial revolution, the electronic age
We may desire a parallel mind
Someone who’ll feel the same, use the same tools, be submissive all the same

Physical features attract
Beauty maintains
Habits annoy
Common interests propel
Exactly alike stagnates

Written: 10/17/01
Words: Walter Koning

One hour to get to work.
Four hours until lunch.
One hour for lunch.
Four hours until the end of the day.
One hour to get home.
One hour for dinner.
One child on the floor.
One TV in the corner of the room.
One recliner just sat in.
One child turns around.
One lap fills the child’s eyes.
One mouth shyly asks, “Is this seat taken?”

4/6/01
Words: Walter Koning

CGonTWTB
I saw her walking home from BART the other night
Skinny legs, high-heeled shoes, skirt around her waist
Backpack over her shoulder and arms shivering
I asked if she was freezing in her oh so business clothes
It was warm this morning, the sun melting Lafayette
Then over the hills you go and it’s cloudy the whole day
I was there, I know, but what about those clothes
I didn’t ask, she didn’t say, we kept up on our way

Like kids in school walking home, I was the boy trying to
Talk to the girl
She was the girl, stringing me along
We had our backpacks
We had boy meets girl
We had just walked from our “school” bus called BART

She said have a good night, I said you too
Now it’s been a week and she’s back
In my mind and on my path to BART
Raining today, still wearing a skirt
Umbrella in hand, still looking good
I casually pass her by then turn and say hello
She acknowledges me, we continue on
No longer school kids I don’t bother her again
A bid farewell at the turn-style
And a few casual glances
So long CGOL
May we meet again

Written: 3/29/01
Words: Walter Koning

7:40 train

Got on at Rockridge

Standing at the door by the end

Let her be

She got off after me

Written: 3/1/01
Words: Walter Koning

I’m no germinating wildflower
I’m no casual daisy
I’m no loose cannon
And I’m definitely not any more horny than you
I just want you in my bed tonight

I’m no rambling night club owner
I’m not expecting you to be here tomorrow
I’m no fool to think you know me
And I’m still not any more horny than you
I just want you in my bed tonight

I’m no player of poker
I’m no thief of thieves
I’m no cards night social stogie smoker
And I’m probably just as horny as you
So I just want you in my bed tonight
I just want you in my bed tonight

Written: 3/30/01
Words: Walter Koning

We’re using all our resources the feed our hungry machines
We’ve got gas bills and phone bills, electric and trash pick-up
We’ve created a program for administering our natural resources in
Individual pill bottles
Like a traveling medicine man we’ve solved our ailments with miracle formulas

Is it worth it? What’s the trade off?
Passionate environmental activists will say no way
We’ve got forests so clean, so pure, so old, home to so many
We’ve got oceans so thick, so big, so diverse, so polluted, exploited
We’ve got holes in the ground, so deep, so empty, no gold, but they tried

What the hey? So what? So there’s a hole in the ground, fill it back in
So the ocean is big, it’ll redevelop the parts we’ve filtered through
The fish will grow back.
So the forests are old and pure, we can cut and replant. It’ll all be like new.

Any antique car lover will remind us that a restored vehicle with
Replacement parts doesn’t hold nearly as much value as an
Original classic, kept in pristine condition
If we bottle up our trees, refine our fish, and chop down our oceans
We’ll have a wonderful place, without the same value

Written: 12/23/01
Words: Walter Koning

Bliss
Pure Bliss

Rollerblading along the ocean
At night
In Long Beach

Bliss
Pure Bliss

Rollerhockey with friends
After work
In Alameda

Bliss
Pure Bliss

Snowskiing at Lake Tahoe
Through moguls
In perfect snow

Bliss
Pure Bliss

Meandering through an art gallery
With music playing
In the background

Bliss
Pure Bliss

Making my memories and dreams
With you
In the back of my mind

Bliss
Pure Bliss

Imagination and its trippy effects
For me
In the spirit of fun

That’s right
Bliss
Pure Bliss

Written: 10/26/01
Words: Walter Koning

She waits alone every day
Face painted pink every day
She sits near BART panhandling away
From commuters getting her daily pay
She sits on her chair hunched over
Cup in her hand flowing over

Woman do you give a damn
Woman can someone lend you a hand
Woman are you really poor
Why do you spend your day
Painted up like a whore

You look like a modern day gypsy
You can’t deny the resemblance
Are you really poor or is it all
A fat lie you use to survive

Woman do you give a damn
Woman I want to refuse my hand
You wave and say hi to everyone
Neighbor to all but a friend to none
You wave and say hi to everyone
Neighbor to all but a friend to none

Written: 12/23/01
Words: Walter Koning

Andy
Limits himself
Andy
Incarcerated Andy

Andy
Running home from school
And he
Avoids all the cracks along the sidewalk
And he
Dreams of some day living in a mansion
Up on a hill
No sidewalks at all

Andy
Limits himself
Andy
Incarcerated Andy

Andy
Does all his homework
And he
Is accepted into all the big schools
And he
Dreams of someday living in a mansion
Up on a hill
No sidewalks at all

Andy
Limits himself
Andy
Incarcerated Andy

Andy
Starts to give up on his future
And he
Drops all his classes
And he
Becomes strung out
Hanging with the burnouts

Andy
Limits himself
Andy
Incarcerated Andy

Andy
Dumpster dives with his friends now
And he
Forgets of his dreams of a big house
And he
Starts selling crack on the sidewalks
To the kids
Running home from school

Andy
Limits himself
Andy
Incarcerated Andy

Written: 3/30/01
Words: Walter Koning

Hey guys get a load of this
Blue skies you don’t want to miss
Before the tunnel and Oakland Hills
The weather is almost perfect

After the tunnel it’s all varied
Sometimes there’s fog, sometimes more harried
When the fog is lifted you can see all the hills
And the view is almost perfect

Cruise on through the East Bay
Lot’s to see but save it for another day
Keep on moving toward the peninsula hills
Where their attitude is almost perfect

Pass the Financial District of Frisco
See all the homes with Bay windows
Take Lincoln all the way to the ocean
If the water was warmer it would be perfect

Follow Highway 1 up the coastline
Surfers surfing this mighty shoreline
Further South, just West of all the hills
Mavericks riders must be almost perfect

Written: 3/2/01
Words: Walter Koning

Social excellence
All the party clothes
Politically correct
Well I’m not any of those

I want to be rebellious
I want a little personal anarchy
I’m doing what I want now
Not what I am told

There’s so much time to worry
About the frivolous small details
And so many things to stop me
But why should I really care

Social excellence
All the party clothes
Politically correct
Well I’m not any of those

Maybe I’m not too feisty
And it’s safe to say I’m non-violent
Put together your army
I’ll be without me I’m confident
Conscientious objector, small scale pacifist
I’m surely not interested in killing
A bunch of names on anyone’s list

Social excellence
All the party clothes
Politically correct
Well I’m not any of those

Give me some time to charm you
I’ll show some of what I’ve got
Take a second to watch me
And dapper Prince Charming I am not
I’m not rude or incendiary
Rather blunt but polite

Social excellence
All the party clothes
Politically correct
Well I’m not any of those

I’ve got a friend named Mick
He lives on the streets all alone
But he says he’s got a couple of kids
And he doesn’t know where they are now
What a bunch of creeps
They let him panhandle and freeze

Well he’s been awfully nice to me
Even gave me some Girl Scout cookies
Tagalongs that someone gave to him
He doesn’t eat straight sugar
He’s got dentures and probably doesn’t brush

Social excellence
All the party clothes
Politically correct
Well I’m not any of those

I may want some anarchy
And personal righteous expression
But I’m still humbled by gifts
Given by a man without self satisfaction

Written: 4/16/01
Words: Walter Koning

I see a man trapped to a wheelchair with a “no pity” button strapped to his backpack

I see a woman sharing his friendship,
A giggle now and again

I see a woman with a 90’s version of an 80’s outfit,
Black hair, pink streaks, bold red lipstick, chewing gum,
Thick-rimmed, dark glasses, wide hair tie around her wrist

I see a woman of Indian descent standing behind a stroller which
Held her child until she just picked it up to her waist

I sat next to a very tall man with skin more black than mocha or chocolate

I see a man in khaki, skin dark in color, with hair in corn rows,
He’s pleading for the BART operator to open the doors of the train

I see the doors open, an act of mercy,
An announcement of the destination of the train over the PA,
The pleading man gets back off the train

I see another man of wider body and pale skin, wearing shorts
With hair colored in a God-given natural strawberry blonde,
He steps aboard after the pleading man as a result of the Asian
Conductor’s mercy and the other man’s honest mistake of train identity

I see a woman of Asian descent, sitting by the door, fresh from college,
Or a day at work, probably not manual labor

I see a woman of Mexican or Native American descent,
Listening to music through her headphones, playing a video game on her PDA

I see myself in the window, writing about the diversity,
Enjoying some worldly peace

Written: 5/1/01
Words: Walter Koning

How to get a job when you’re homeless
Got a beard so long
It’s unkept and scraggly
No energy in me because I don’t eat well,
or often enough
Pants are dirty and stained
Happens when I roll over at night
Sleeping on my blanket in the doorway of a business
Have no pillow
But I’ve got neck problems for sure

I walk into a temporary labor office to try for a job
They tell me they want to help
Ask how they can contact me
How can they contact me?
Well I’ll wait or I’ll come back tomorrow
OK, then what’s your address?
I don’t have one
I’m living on the street
I walk around with a grocery cart

My pants are stained and I smell badly
Well can you shower for work?
Where?
I guess that’s no
What am I to do?