Category: Eric Schuurman’s Poetry

East West, East West
A continent before we can rest

East West, East West
A continent before we can rest

Its just the way the world turns
It’s just the way it turns
Its just the way the world turns
From east to west.

You know its all in your head
You know its all in your heart
You know it’s all within you
To make a new start

East West, East West
A continent before we can rest

It’s just the way that we turn
It’s just the way we turn
It’s just the way that we turn
From east to west

You know the places you been
You know the faces you seen
You know the life that you’ve lived
You lived in a dream.

East West, East West
A continent before we can rest

The skies’ half circle surrounds us again
The skies’ half circle surrounds us again

East West, East West
A continent before we can rest

It’s just the way a life turns
It’s just the way life turns
It’s just the way a life turns
From east to west

You know the voice in your head
You know the voice in your heart
You know the voice within you
Says make a fresh start

East West, East West
A continent before we can rest

(break)

East West, East West
A continent before we can rest

Its just the way the world turns
It’s just the way it turns
Its just the way the world turns
From east to west.

You know the places you been
You know the faces you seen
You know the life that you’ve lived
You lived in a dream.

East West, East West
A continent before we can rest

East West, East West
A continent before we can rest

The skies’ half circle surrounds us again
The skies’ half circle surrounds us again

(repeats)

Days Are few.

Words
of the wise,
guidance
of age,
cannot shake
or sway what you
know to be true.

Rules
of the road,
gravity
itself,
in your youth
means nothing
to you.

Your whirling of dervishes, drunken and wild
in cathedrals where lost souls pray
come back to haunt you, in your reflections,
debt that you cannot re-pay.

Fields
of your days,
blazing
at night.
Calculate
what the flame
has consumed.

Seasons
that turn
render
barren reserves
in light of
golden harvest moons.

Now winter wind blows cold and curls round your neck
as your house echoes empty and still.
Shadows grow long, curtains are drawn
and embers are stirred in the chill.

Voice
of a childs’
ghost
on the trail
that leads
‘neath the snow
from the shore.

Steps
wandering,
circle
about,
across
the cold
forest floor.

If I could reach out across the divide
and deliver you safe on your way,
shake you and wake you, re-direct you
to’ve known what I know today.

Days Are Few
They spill from our hands like grains of sand
And fade from our distant view.

Days Are Few
Leaving no trace as we pass thru our days
stumbling after truth.

Days Are Few

Days Are Few

You said your name was Angela,
a kind offering from above.
You were sent to spread warmth and softness,
delivered with a message of love.

You told me you were fond of flowers,
and anything ‘neath the firmament that grows.
But we both realize now that it was a mistake,
When I snipped from the bush to bring you a rose.

I erred in judgement grievously,
I offered and you took on your own terms.
Sincerely I feel us both to be blamed
when you grasped that thorny rose much too firm.

How can I bring you something beautiful,
something that grows in open space,
when I know you’ll just want to clutch it tight,
and then display it in a vase?

You should not feel so angry Angela.
To you I meant the least of harm.
And that such animosity lingers still,
I find due reason for alarm.

To you again I apologize,
tho you’ve yet found words to forgive.
You shouldn’t retain this bitterness,
it’s so unreasonably destructive.

You said your name was Angela,
and I did not disbelieve.
Now please don’t give me cause to suspect
that I might have been deceived.

I am the pendulum guard.
My majority rule club card
sometimes I feel to disregard.
Talk is cheap and persuasion’s hard.

Hear me now hear what I say,
for these are the decisive days.
The plot you pick’s the course that stays,
and bells toll for carefree ways.

Dance lightly in this Season of Danger.

Well, some of us just gonna have our fun.
Gonna live our lives ’til our lives are done.
When the angel splits, the time comes,
and indeed we’ll know our course is run.

Dance lightly in this Season of Danger.

Well, you dance with impunity and proud.
You dance glossy eyed, raucous and loud.
You’re dancing nuts, yea, you and your crowd.
You gonna dance up a mushroom cloud!

Dance lightly in this Season of Danger.

’Til the spring comes,
’til the rains fall.
’Til the blossoms drop
and the birds call.
’Til the ice melts
upon the shores,
I sign this,
Recklessly Yours.

’Til the summer’s blaze,
’til the thunder rolls.
’Til a bright June morning
as the Sunday bells toll.
’Til the locust’s song’s
heard thru porch doors,
I sign this,
Recklessly Yours.

’Til Indian summer dries,
’til the fields go pastel.
’Til the school busses roll again
and the burnt leave smell.
’Til spiders and crickets seek
shelter indoors,
I sign this,
Recklessly Yours.

’Til the snow blankets white,
’til the trees vein black.
’Til the arctic winds howl
and the icycles crack.
’Til the holidays chime
and the fire roars,
I sign this,
Recklessly Yours.

Some say Lauren, some say Bardot,
some say Marilyn, some say no more.
Some say kitten whisper lips.
Some say many things, I say this:
We all love you,
we all love you,
we all love you,
little, little, Little Miss Mystery Kiss.
Little, little, Little Miss Mystery Kiss.

Some say they dine in Moscow, some say they drink in Spain.
Some say they watch the Nile flood, (?)
Some say things they know win your heart, you know they only miss.
Some say almost anything, I say this:
We all love you,
we all love you,
we all love you,
little, little, Little Miss Mystery Kiss.
Little, little, Little Miss Mystery Kiss.

Some people say they knew you from the war in Germany.
Some people say they loved you once upon a dream.
Some people can only take a passing shot at bliss.
Some say too many things, I say this:
We all love you,
we all love you,
we all love you,
little, little, Little Miss Mystery Kiss.
Little, little, Little Miss Mystery Kiss.

In the dead of winter,
nothing makes a sound,
except the whistling trees
brittle in the ground.
The frozen winter sun,
it doesn’t shine.
All this would melt away
If You Were Mine.

The steam in the city,
like the flame in my heart,
vanishes in frozen air
without a chance to start.
Pass you on a corner,
first and last time.
All this would melt away
If You Were Mine.

In the dead of winter,
voices on the street.
Traffic blocks the avenue
and two souls never meet.
Frozen on my overcoat,
the tears I’m cryin’.
All this would melt away
If You Were Mine.

Stepping’ from a subway in a strange town,
I’m trying’ to find this place and the sun’s gone down.
Woman on a platform, crying’ in a shawl.
Drugstore neon flickers in the wet, late fall.
“Goodnight, Godspeed, keep him in care.”
I hear my baby’s whispered prayer.

The sidewalks are empty, the streets are undisturbed,
newspaper blows by and sticks to a curb.
Woman who was weeping doesn’t make a sound.
I step into the street and decide to look around.
“Goodnight, Godspeed, keep him in care.”
I hear my baby’s whispered prayer.

I walk cobblestone streets and I don’t know where I am.
I return to the station where the subway ran.
I’m late for this appointment, I fear that I’ll miss out.
My heart fills with anger, my mind fills with doubt.
“Goodnight, Godspeed, keep him in care.”
I hear my baby’s whispered prayer.

I’d like to buy a ticket out, I told the counter man.
I admitted my confusion and he seemed to understand.
He told me “Have a good night, hope you get what you find.”
I found a seat alone and continued down the line.
“Goodnight, Godspeed, keep him in care.”
I hear my baby’s whispered prayer.

The boys in green,
guns for guitars.
A change of season,
a change of stars.

Khaki chic.
Rocker GI Joe.
Pride runs deep,
a video show.

Well, you want it, it’s yours, you got Exhilarated!
You want it, it’s yours, you got Exhilarated!
You want it, it’s yours, you got Exhilarate!
You want it, it’s yours, you got Exhilarated!

Red white blue,
another bad night.
Gonna punt some commie ass,
itching’ for a fight!

A will arose
from an audience entranced.
And our heartbeats raced
like true sport fans.

Well, you want it, it’s yours, you got Exhilarated!
You want it, it’s yours, you got Exhilarated!
You want it, it’s yours, you got Exhilarate!
You want it, it’s yours, you got Exhilarated!