We’re All Monsters Inside

Song written and performed by John Richter, 2015

You were just living your life
the way you thought was right
until that one stormy night
she changed your life

So now say goodbye
to all those football jerseys
And no more swimsuit editions
Oh yeah, that’s all over now

And just when you thought you can’t take no more
You watch your favorite easy chair go out that door
Better say goodbye
But say hello

Welcome to the club my friend
We’re here to the very end
yes we are
Better make yourself comfortable

Tell me, why do we do this?
Living this age old lie
Trying to get a little something
For that little guy

Yeah, you know that’s right
He’s just looking for somewhere to lay his head tonight
Some place warm
Some place tight

But you can’t say that,
You’re a monster man
No no no,
Don’t matter how long you stick around

You just got to take her to town
Act a clown
All she wants to hear is this little sound

Love, love, love, love, love,
Love, love, love, love, love,
Love, love, love, love, love

I love the way you took my jerseys
And the way you threw away my chair
I got some news for you honey
We’re all monsters inside

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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Kick the Can

The story goes a little like this
a young man goes out to find his sweet little miss
they fall in love baby, hug and kiss
come around, get married, have a few kids

But did you ever wonder where the time goes
did you ever wonder why we grow old
and were the skies as blue 40 years ago
Honey I don’t know
I just don’t know

Kids grow up, off to school
Momma plays daddy like a stupid fool
Marriage is dead, time is gone
So there you are mister
all alone

Just singing your songs
to all those little ones
Keep playing that hopscotch babies
keep having that fun

You got to play kick the can
as long as you can
’cause time’ll come round real soon
where you got to be a man

And did you ever wonder where the time goes
did you ever wonder why we grow old
and were the skies as blue 40 years ago
I don’t know baby
I just don’t know

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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I Run Away

Mussel boat arrive –
men clacking,
clacketing –
shells splashing the bay.
I run and run,
run away –
forfeit right to cool ocean air –
Gull wings splash the sun –
as blinding bits of angels –
their choking calls
like jungle drums –
beating into me –
choking my heart –
out of tune
confusing the metronome
of who I am today –
the man once known
by so few –
I run upon the broken shells
beaches littered like glassy hell.
Blood soaked sands of yesterday
seep into the blistered soles
of my weathered toes –
Like little foreigners
looking up at me –
their yellowing scarred
window panes – scratched
and ragged – catching –
raping time for what it is –
A death so certain –
where I lay
discarded china doll –
ceramic shards on shells –
long forgotten –
China dolls feel no pain.

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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Coffin Lid

Midnight falls on everyone.
Graves are full by morning sun.
Stars that sprinkle – headstone shine
– on you.

Fingernails so perfect red
Lip gloss dripping from your head
Toes that blacken when you’re dead
Scratching, scratching –
Coffin Lid

Dancing shoes in the corner now
Dreams and hopes forlorn us now
Screaming eyes – put to rest
Hoping that our souls are blessed
Hoping that we passed the test

Morning sun,
Morning sun,
Has come.
Graveyard quiet.
Scratching done.

Goodbye.

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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Are We Real?

If not for Heaven’s sake, this life of ours,
nor to reincarnate for earlier flaws,
Then what is our purpose in this test?

To work and toil to correct the wrongs –
which wouldn’t be without our throngs?
without our presence comes no protest?

That we should comfort the sick and feed the poor –
clothe the homeless and pity the whore –
hold the hand of lonely he – whose
brightest moment lacks prosperity?

I ask you lord, in my miniscule role –
as one who is asked to supply the dole –
To care for others continuously –
in the face of no reason to be?

For this grueling field is set by you –
the misery, the carnage, the bally-hoo…
our own eyes spectators at best…

Yet we are asked to cure the plight –
of others who under your own might
would never exist in such unrest.

And so dear lord I must pray to thee,
if you are god of love and not misery –
to bring them all into your home –
accepted into Heaven’s womb –
and end this test of good and wrong –
give us rest unto angelic song –
For my shoulders weary, never strong,
or this be hell,  forever long.
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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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Now I Lay Me Down

Ebenezer saw his own grave –
placid yellow hues against
the pointing finger of faceless
hood.  Stretched stone of soft marble
that would run smooth after
centuries storm, anonymous grave
melting into the abyss of earth,
alone, nothingness, forever.
Fools be gone, and what butcher’s
prized goose is valued more than
serenity, chains and all – only
to sink us deeper into bliss.
World be gone.  Tiny Tim better off.
The chains are what hold us here.

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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Spectators All

Of life and love and destiny –
all things beyond our remedy.
For naught but single flame alone
burnt down the greatest all of Rome.
Those eyes who sifted through the ash –
mere spectators to the very last.

Now we, who carry the torch anew –
believe ourselves able and true –
As though we have found some cure
to reign destiny as our whore….
In the end it shall be unleashed –
that we are but ineffectual beasts.

And as well it shall come undone –
as glory and satan sing our song….
Peons we are unto destiny’s chart –
following its orders with sturdy heart.
Only fools will come to finally know –
our efforts are fruitless as driven snow.

We do not choose our love, nor our very life.
Destiny rules our lot – from happiness to strife.
So sing a song, my young friend –
let it sail into the wind.
Be yourself happy in whatever returns……
Spectators merely see, and never yearn.

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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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My Heavens

If Heaven’s path were made for one
and nere choice but to walk alone
then I wonder what should become
of my absence in God’s lovely home…

For surely I would stop on the path
to admire the birds and bees…
and dance within the machair fields
among cattails and other weeds…

Certain I’d climb the aiten bush-
soft tendrils caressing me…
I should fancy not to be in a rush –
so then climb the cherry trees.

Then on down to find the pond,
feed all the ducks in a row,
and hope that I brought along
my trusty fishing pole.

Sure to pass the basketball hoop,
where I’d want to shoot a few,
and hope Heaven’s path is a loop,
so I can do it all with you.

For if your house is on the way,
Then I’d never find dear Heaven.
As we would hold hands all the day,
and eat cookies from your oven.

And I’d kiss your cheek and declare my love,
for all of God’s eternity.
Heaven can wait – so what if I’m late?
I’d rather spend it with thee…
For without you there, t’would be quite contrare –
as Heaven would not Heaven be.

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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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Death Awaits

Death declares her mighty blow
upon the sleeping hours –
when silence muffs the bells below
for eternity to devour.

We hope, we pray to know the time,
for orderliness to last our while –
but death sheds her cape divine
and steals away goodbyes.

As forever more the bell should strike,
our masses join in memory –
to shed our tears for those beloved –
now gone to history.

Death awaits, atop her perch
living only to die.
And so beseech thee death – dark visitor –
“Why not I?”

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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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The Loveliest Day

Young boy, young man,
heart always at play….
Young heart, young love, til end,
but a stone’s throw away.

Skip, little rock,
across the water’s way.
skip to the other side,
on this longest,
loveliest day.
Carry my heart along the way.

Until I be old, and lonely,
and unable to say,
what wonders your love
brought my way –
on this,
the loveliest day.

Promises? To keep?
To be lost or swept away?
I promise only this;
love shall always live in my heart.
You are welcome a day –
or eternity…
Whatever measure,
your own.
Mine will always be –
the loveliest day.

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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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