Hepburn moment w/Video

She walked slowly by the pieces of the past
Scarf wrapped up to her short-cropped hair
Somewhat out of place with Hepburn flair
Stubbornly, She’s stuck with a style that lasts.

She made her way to the café window table
Oblivious to her surroundings she went on-line
Reading, renewing and restoring lives entwined
Only pausing for an infrequent nibble on a bagel

He pictured her in front of bustling Paris street,
Much easier to finish the plot without any words
And on cue the music switched to jig on a dulcimer
He needed to leave and folded up his vision complete.

There you go, strangers at noon and never love.
He looked back and she was gone from her chair
Chuckled to himself, “was it real or just a dare”
The devil had dialed up one that would fit like a glove.

By Dave Schipper

This site is for lyrics only... if you want to read more about it click here
http://thezemmyshow.blogspot.com/2010/12/hepburn-moment.html

I did end tweaking it into a song:

Forgive me

Forgive me Lord; I have sinned.
What to list, or where to begin?
Let’s look at these gifts you gave me
With mirrors I’ve used these.

So much for paying you back
I could write chapters on my slack.
Then don’t bring up indulgences
Enjoyed them ‘til I’ve numb senses.

I suppose we could just end it here
I have a pretty hot fate that’s clear.
Ah then comes that grace again;
You send me back out, try again.

And then, you’ll know we’ll be back
With free will and the backbone I lack.
But while I’m off doing my sinnin’
I’ll be laughin, lovin’ and oh so grinnin’

You’ve got yourself a handful in me
I’m never totally bad you know and see
I’ll bring joy, love and serve libations
‘Cuz I really do love all of your creations.


By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

Look Ahead

Water is higher this August than spring,
Skeeters are doing their blood sucking thing.
Two weeks away from opening kick off
My dog and I will just go for a walk

Look ahead and what do we see
Two brown deer running so free
Look ahead and what do we see
Fields of sweet corn rollin like sea.

Old man Paulson must rolling in his grave
His 80 acres were put up for sale today
That 12 foot sign can be seen you bet
So we stopped and the dog peed on it.

Look ahead and what do we see
A gas station and it’s lighted marquee
Look ahead and what do we see
A bank and a strip mall, oh whoopee.

Don’t get me wrong, progress is good
Like they say, “not in my neighborhood.”
Until then we’ll just breathe the fresh air
I just saw a bear! I did I swear.

Look ahead and what do we see
Two brown deer running so free
Look ahead and what do we see
Fields of sweet corn rollin like sea

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

pain

It’s so easy to reach for pills to mask the pain
Temporarily erase the thought and go on.
Live life distracted and you won’t notice the rain
Easy fixes but I still miss you a ton.

by Dave Schipper (c) 2010 Rose Riversong

The play of life

I’m on the lookout
I’m watching
Every car, every corner
Is it you?
You have evaporated
But I persevere
To my joy
What a scenery of life!

I’m on the lookout
I see it all
Every texter, every biker
They aren’t you.
But it’s a small town.
You will appear
And I pause
How will the scene unfold?

Are you on the lookout?
Even curious
Every car, every table
Do you think?
He has been written out
Of my life’s script
Now it is set
And no surprise plot twist.

Are you on the lookout?
For a new writer
Every smile, every day
Another him again.
But it’s a small town
Chance meetings
Less than rare
So how will be scene be set?

Some deep faith believers
Say it’s all written
Every act, every reaction
So they say.
All is recorded in the heavens
We act our parts
Live in sets
And deal with the plot twists.

Some day all will be known
The motives reviewed
Every phrase, every comment
You and I again
So it’s a small town
Let fate play out
And when we meet
We’ll act our parts in the scene.

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

Lines, lines....

Line lines
Just lines
Without a hook meaningless

Time rhymes
With lines
But that’s no progress

Kind lines
Waste time
What sells is hardness

Kind lines
Sometime
Will heal common abscess

Fine lines
Entwine
Without any free access

Fine lines
This time
Created deep sadness

Swine lines
Malign
Perceived as classless

Swine lines
Pink wine
Just words to a waitress

Line lines
Just lines
Started this madness

And they end it.

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

He erased your smile.

He erased your smile
Filled your eyes with vile
he must silently go
Leaving no scars to show

Nothin but paper cuts
Released from these cuffs
She just must ignore him
And insist it’s just grim

But I wonder in a year
Would his words be clear?
And at that point it's late
To test the whim of fate.

Oh so little we all know
The narrator slows
Will you stay for act two?
Or admit they are just through?

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs.

It is finished (draft 2)

It is Finished

Every night I wait to hear
And I cling to every word
Replies that leave me feelin’ queer
Just feeling like a nerd

Then there is a glimpse of hope
A new life again after death
Only to find a new tight rope
We have drawn our last breath

It is finished, we are through
I beg forgiveness to the Lord
For you know not what you do
In the guise of loving true

Today I found my Damascus path
And my eyes were suddenly clear
Words you said too gift wrapped
I see there were just cavalier

Today I see I was on your strings
Trained to stay somewhere near
So say goodbye to your plaything
You’ve lost a treasure dear

It is finished, we are through
I beg forgiveness to the Lord
For you know not what you do
In the guise of loving true

It is finished and time to rise
Take a hold again of my life
Our love was nothing to despise
But it was severed by your lies.

It is finished, we are through
I beg forgiveness to the Lord
For you know not what you do
In the guise of loving true

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

I can

I can’t beg; I can’t whine.
I’m unsure why I’ve been
Burdened to be an optimist

I can smile; I can forgive
I’m under the impression
This isn’t a normal thing.

I can’t write blues, I can’t
I’ve tried and it’s not right
Sloppy and ill conceived

I can dream; I can romance
I believe this is normal
However telling everyone isn’t.

HA

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

If you want love...

If you want peace, fight for justice
If you want love, true happiness
Listen up, there’s no accident
Follow the great commandment
Love others as you love yourself
Forget all those books on self help
Yes peace, love and joy, right in your hands
So go tell yourself where you stand.
If you want peace, fight for yourself
Then harvest love right from the shelf.

by Dave Zeman Schipper (c) 2010 Rose Riversongs

Tonight I was humbled

Tonight I was humbled.
By a two year old and her eager intensity,
She was going to get a sleigh bike ride.

Tonight I was amazed.
By a speeding middle aged man
Biking and talking on a cell phone.

Tonight I was pleased.
The gentle pattering of two elderly ladies,
Does their conversations drift back to Laos?

Tonight I was eased.
The solitude of old man on a bucket
Sitting on a pier with a sparkling lake.

Tonight I was pushed
The breeze picked up my pace
Only to remind me of it’s power later.

Tonight I was amused.
Telling a runner to slow down
And sheer joy swept across her face.

Tonight I was humbled.
I come looking for passionate inspiration
And Lake Winona replenished with grace.


By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

It is finished

It is Finished

Every night I wait for a text
And I cling to every word
Replies that leave me so perplex
Just feeling like a nerd

Then there is a glimpse of hope
A new life again after death
Only to find a new tight rope
We have drawn our last breath

It is finished, we are through
I beg forgiveness to the Lord
For you know not what you do
In the guise of loving true

Today I found my Damascus path
And my eyes were suddenly clear
Words you said too gift wrapped
I see there were just chevalier

Today I see I was on your strings
Trained to stay somewhere near
So say goodbye to your plaything
You’ve lost a treasure dear

It is finished, we are through
I beg forgiveness to the Lord
For you know not what you do
In the guise of loving true

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

Read the story behind this here

In between lines and life...

In between the lines
Embedded in the pixels
Are unspoken words of love

There will come a time
When digital becomes flesh
Words will shine light from above

It will hold surprise
Secret pleasure and of course
Disappointments of some kind

Yes this is real life
But no excuse to stop you
For you will touch flesh so fine.

So you’re impatient?
There’s no instant message here
And life won’t turn on a dime.

Learn to be content
Write a line to remember
And don’t forget it should rhyme

At least this time.

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

Confession of a true romantic

It is with dread I tell my story; my confession.
As I open myself to the honesty of consequences.
Addicted, I must avoid the public places of life
Anytime I sit in the open, it’s mere moments
And I’m lost in romance of another stranger.

These novelettes are one sided but each unique.
The cotton print of the blushing brunette
The piercing eyes of the gray hair beauty
The pug braid accentuating her long neck
And I’m lost in the unfolding love and danger.

The vulnerability is my haunting pleasure
These souls don’t realize their power over me
I’d be on bended knee in a flash if they knew.
A mere sentence or two would pierce a shy armor
Bleeding passion profusely, a life changer.

Though no one is hurt, scar tissue is growing.
Not that this play has no acts or scenes set,
It’s just that the reality of a few minutes
Is dwarfed by the epic played out in my head.
I’m just lost again in romance and I linger.

But drag me through the gutter; I do go on.
And I must admit my saviors are the angels.
I must only be attracted to the true golden ones.
They see this halo of a ring I wear proudly
And treat me as some else’s gift and tender.

Well a leopard can’t change his spots, nor I.
I am blanketed in love from a special woman.
One who knows me for the gypsy lover within
So my heart will skip a beat for sparkling eyes
And I’ll be lost in romance with another stranger.

But I sleep at peace with my true love
With a smile on my face.

(c) by Dave Schipper 2010 Rose Riversongs

Landmarks

There are landmarks in the distance
Places between you and me
A bar, a café, and old willow tree

There are no measurements to make
Just markers of faces and places
Some a casual observer just might miss.

Old culprit fate will change something
A new building a new waitress
And that will cause a little stress

Old faith in the natural laws will win
And new landmarks will form
There in the mist of chaos, the norm.

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

Seven Bridges, Seven Tales

In seven minutes, seven miles breeze by
To my right, the old road beckons
Seven bridges, and seven stories
For my delight, if I just listen.

Lizzy,
Lizzy paid no attention to crickets
But that gun shot made her jump.
Crazy Bill McGilvary shouted
“Dem swamp rattlers!
Liz listen up next time
They sound just like crickets!”







7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.



Davey,
Davey just had an itch to fish
But he had chores galore.
Ma’s fresh pie served as a bribe
And little Jim, he won’t mind
He’ll do the chores just fine
While he finds time to fish.






7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.


Joanie
Joanie had a hankerin for fun
Like a red shouldered hawk
She swooped in on Henry
“Kee Year” she mimicked.
In the bottomland grass,
She rolled with her new hun.





7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.

Billy,
Billy cursed that bridge from hell.
Clinton embossed the back of his neck
As he hung motionless from the A frame.
Damn riverboat gamblers
Took his life savings
So he hung there a spell.








7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.



Tommy,
Tommy never really came back
So he made these swamps his home.
Nam killed more than his hearing
He lost trust in people
They say the lost site of him
As waded out in the river named Black.








7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.

Ritchie
Ritchie mumbled “How did this happen?
Rental piece of shit,” but he hated flying.
Aw a strawberry stand, and a latin beauty.
“Two bits for sweet carazon.”
“Precious what’s your name”
“Oh they call me Donna”






7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.


Albert,
Albert was nineteen in 1865
At the Spanish Fort battle in ‘Bama.
He was 90 when they laid him down
Four miles from the bridge
He and Rynert used to fish
Sure wished he would have survived.










In seven minute, seven miles breezed by
To my right, the old road beckoned
Seven bridges, and seven stories
For your delight, if you listened.





by Dave Zeman (c) 2009 Rose Riversongs





Story behind the song can be read at http://songwriting202.blogspot.com Originally posted June 26, 2009; I thought this was perfect way to remember the fallen soldiers, and the ones that came home and lived with the war a little bit longs.

Photo Credits

Swamp Rattler -massasauga, Red Shouldered Hawk, Historical Marker, Ritchie Valens, Green Mound Cemetary, Bridges & Swamp, Riverboat Gambler

Lady in Blue

She fixated on a venomous moment
Surrounded by a harried world.
Just sits alone with her personal torment.
A bottle of Jack numbs the senses
Maybe she’ll go dress up with pearls tonight
Hit the bars and take some chances.


The lady in blue has a life to choose.
The lady in blue stuck in Hollywood.
The lady in blue turns to look away
The lady in blue will find a way.

Her tall and slender frame turns heads
She’s learned to ignore them easily
But with this she’s added a hard edge.
An armor of cold disdain for true love
She can crush those who come weakly
Leaving her left with the just the stuff.


The lady in blue has a life to choose.
The lady in blue stuck in Hollywood.
The lady in blue turns to look away
The lady in blue will find a way.

A trickle of hope is never really gone
She was raised with grace and joy
But left it behind to write her song
The lady bumps into life in the dark
Will she choose to notice or be coy?
And in the end she’s just make a choice.

Lady in Blue by Dave Schipper © 2007/10 Rose Riversongs Photos from myspace.com/hopewaits

a quick video for me to remember it...

Sly Wave

Tonight I stared at a salmon blue gray sky
As it bid me goodbye; I smiled.
Why is it the goodbyes that we remember?

I can remember that sly wave you gave,
Was it a reflex gesture, just a twitch?
My mind thought it more repressed allure.

Oh maybe too much poetry adds fiction.
It tries to add traction to feelings
And a ceiling and wall to elusive love.

So I walked on with a painted smirk
Oh to act like a jerk is not in the cards
And on que, a full moon rose in the east.

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

I am Here

That box of wine ain’t big enough for me to drown in

But I wade through it to find life on the other side.

On the other bank I leave that old life for a night of sin

Though I prefer to call it a guilt free unabashed thrill ride.


Funny how even the best freeing intentions are consumed

Not with guilt, not with lust, but with a flicker of love flame.

Though I cry, whine and whallow for that special doom

I’m brought back to silence and tender thoughts so tame.


I am here, I was there.

In that minute, you were aware

I am here, You are there.

In this moment, I own dispair.


I will not preach to the choir and correct our harmonies

If we walk in step though distant, I will embrace that gift

Unlike the dictator of good and evil, I strive for ease

I will hold my inner cries for an absence of rift.


Though I keep coming back, like a penny or a boomerang

It’s hollow without words that can bind emotions like mortar

So while I hear the words, I sit in my corner with no harangue

I’m at peace, but in the mirror I see my life grown shorter.


I am here, I was there.

In that minute, you were aware

I am here, You are there.

In this moment, I own dispair.


By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

Defamed

It is a shame
This act to defame
Is there someone to blame?
Is there no truth to their claim?

I look at these stones
And my heart moans.
At least there are no broken bones
They’ll rise up, walk and live to atone.

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

Two, Ten or Twenty...

Back at sixteen
Life was a fog of friends and hormones
Everything obscene
Looking back I was such a moron.

At twenty one
I knew that I was a young stud
Never outdone
Just a pauper with royal blood

I pray
Two, Ten or Twenty Lord?
No wait,
Don’t tell me what’s in store.
Just push
Me in some direction
And hope
I make the right selection.

Then at thirty
A couple more years of being dinks
Life was pretty
Though time moved at the speed of blinks

No fear forty
It was all the Legos money could buy
That and tree forts
I even learned what it was to tythe.

I pray
Two, Ten or Twenty Lord?
No wait,
Don’t tell me what’s in store.
Just push
Me in some direction
And hope
I make the right selection.

Fifty two and
I’m too old to die young they say.
So what’s the plan?
To put a smile on my face everyday.

And with God’s grace
Make a home where love resides
‘Cuz just in case
They end up saying, it’s a shame he died

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

Not to be....

The signs abound with shouts of Super Syn and Clean 7500
Oh well, I just need routine maintenance and you weren’t here.
There is no crying in this world for guys who are brain dead.
Just more signs that it’s your money where they really care.

An old guy passed saying “that it ain’t bad ‘cept the wind”
Yep and he kept walking and I kept wondering about you.
Did you notice that I started show up again and again?
You acted like I didn’t exist, or was that just being shrewd?

So it is not to be,
And it never was.
A bubble burst you see
Just another day.

I turned a page and was taken back to an ordinary day,
Picking you up from work, watching you stride to the car.
Funny it’s that memory, but not when we parted ways
Still I wonder on a Saturday afternoon, where you are?

There is a God; and she didn’t want us to be after all,
Such a joy ride, such despair; we had moments at the top
Yet where is the great writing, foreplay, climax, after fall
I’m left with wondering if the real right move was to stop.

So it is not to be,
And it never was.
A bubble burst you see
Just another day.

An email arrives and another parent of a friend has died.
Where is the fit to my life, and do I have two, ten, or twenty left?
I can stop and wallow in dread of life, or honestly say I tried.
A line, a contact, a comment on a blog, oh I sound bereft.

But the grace of friends and the Holy Spirit above lift me
To a life that I have no earthly merit to inherit
Yet here I am in the midst of the life with no marquee
So I pause, raise a glass, and of course grin and bear it.

So it is not to be,
And it never was.
A bubble burst you see
Just another day.

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

Premeditated Love

Premeditated love?
Well this glove fits
And I must admit

I stalked you first
And you thought
You could do worse.

So you groomed me
Shaped and molded
Until you could see

In that mirror
A love was there
And it was clearer

I stand accused today
Deliberately planned
An act I put into play

No need for third degree
I wholeheartedly
Plead Guilty

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

Baker Street

The window glows on the 2nd floor
At 2204 Baker Street.
It’s been on for months, but no one notices
Life goes on to the same beat.

Can some one live without any one else?
Even to hear a stranger’s hi?
She neatly sits as the silence grows
Barely a whispered sigh.

The only ones who take note are the children
Mischief-makers to many
But they are the ones who seek her out;
They look for the old Granny.

Old, that eternally changing yardstick
She picks up the Big 5-0- card
A single card, and no call in two weeks
When reality hits, it hits hard.

Too many think they turned to bottle
To self-destruct or just give up.
She opened her wine like a brothel
And she poured her queen’s cup.

The window glows on the 2nd floor
And the gentlemen are about
All the wealth and glamour she adores.
Just about then she blacked out.

The window glows on the 2nd floor
At 2204 Baker Street.
It’s been on for months, but no one notices
Life goes on to the same beat.

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

Discarded Tin

Discarded blue enamel tin;
Beer bottles saved from abandoned breweries.
We walk thru our crowded din
To laugh at our insatiable need for sundries.

We define ourselves with stuff
Wooden eggs, milk cans, and coffee pots
Antiques decorator pieces sure enough
But let’s grasp the real mission of our lot.

We need to love each other more
We need to run, laugh, and fall naked to the ground.
We need to think more off shore.
We need to get off our duffs and out of town.

Discarded kitchen things won’t define
Us in any weird sense for all eternity
So let’s let our light shine
And pull some one else out of disparity.



By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs