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Golden Shovel Challange - the Poems & music links onlys

Piscator

Piscator

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Golden Shovel Challange - the Poems & music links only

In this challenge, the authors have used a line or lines from a song they identify with and given it the Golden Shovel treatment according to the following rules
  • Take a line (or lines) from a song you admire.
  • Use each word in the line (or lines) as an end word in your song.
  • Keep the end words in order.
  • Give credit to the artist who originally wrote the line (or lines) and a link to the song.
  • The new poem does not have to be about the same subject as the song that offers the end words
Please put your comments on poems and guesstimates as to the author in the Song based Golden Shovel Challenge thread.

The poems and music links follow.
 
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#1

Louie Louie greeenmountaineer

Louie, Louie

(by the Kingsmen with a touch of
Walt Disney and Lady Macbeth)

Louie Louie, oh no Me gotta go

Aye-yi-yi-yi

(eye) said Louie Louie, oh baby Me gotta go


It could have been “Meet me in St. Louie,”
Louie, for all I knew, Louie,
as I listened to Mom say “Oh no!

not again” to your 45. Me?
I’m screeching in my room “Gotta
get this pimple out; gotta go

Aye, yi, yi, yi!

before the junior prom,” eye to eye
with the mirror mirror on the wall said

I so I can da doo ron ron, Louie,
and do the mashed potatoes, Louie,
with Mary Jane Gilhooly, oh Baby!

who last week after school kissed me.
So now with some tweezers I gotta
"Out, out, damn spot! Gotta go!”
 
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#2

Fuzz Tone, Sixth Form Tzara
End words from "Psychotic Reaction," the Count Five, 1966

I know it's not always about me, but I
wonder if you sometimes also feel
that you're depressed.

It's just how you look at times. I
worry about how you feel,
because you look down, and so

I wonder if you're actually feeling bad.
You really shouldn't, 'cause
I like you. A lot. You're

the girl I pay attention to in maths, the
girl who always gets the best
score on the exams, the one girl

who would really look best in that
skimpy white two-piece I
saw on the mannequin in Selfridges. Like ever.

You're, like, the girl I wish I wish I had
 
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#3

Fear is here Piscator
after Elvis Costello's Watching the Detectives

Life is now
it's time for fear
what is is
and it is here
with you to
stay.
Don't call it love,
merely animal attraction, and is
only here
to visit.
 
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#4

Campus Nostalgia Remec
I]from Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall Part 2" [/I]

Was thinking of growing up, of our hey
days as big men on campus, when teacher
and student alike didn’t do anything without our leave;
they feared and loved us
but we were still just kids
and, even in a mass, we were alone
 
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#5

Not Again Guilty Pleasure
from "Me And Julio Down By The Schoolyard" by Simon and Garfunkel

I say “I not sleepy. To early fo’ bed Mama.”

She say “Hush yo mouth, put on pyjama
Right now! I got all dese joints to get rolled
A’fore I can outta
Dis place so get to bed.”

My mama she a big lady, no messin’, she
Mean b’dness so me, I ran
Up de stairs and jump to.

Next mornin’ no Mama. The
House be empty. Turns out she wid da police.
Now I guess I hafta go down da station
 
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#6

On the Street Guilty Pleasure
from "Child Of Mine" by Carole King

He’s wearing a coat although
the day is sweltering, you
know he’s suffering, can see
him shaking, aching for the
next hit that will make the world
calmer, better, different.
His hand is out and rather than
feed his habit he gets a food voucher. He thanks me
 
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#7

Expectations Guilty Pleasure
from “Everybody Knows” by Leonard Cohen

I feel like telling everybody
passing that she knows
how much I love her and that,
tonight I’m going to pop the
question, roll the dice
so to speak, what are
the chances of “no”? I’ll just get loaded
 
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#8

Eliminator Minervous
After the ZZ Top song/video "Legs"

I wanted to be the blonde, because she's
got the best figure, the best clothes, got

the best hair. I don't know about her legs,
although they're pretty good, but she

works her hips like an engineer who knows
that the skeleton shifts a woman's body, how

every curve and twitch is designed to
get any nearby guy's attention. Not to use

exactly, though it's that too. More to abuse them,
get them to grovel a bit; because that's all she

has—her body. For class and charm never
gets any Galahad on his knees where he begs

for your hand. The blonde knows that. She
flounces and struts her figure, her clothes, yet knows

her power is limited to how
long her hair stays blonde, her thighs slim, to

how short this period is where she gets to choose
whom she wants to sleep with. Not them.
 
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#9

self.esteem Tzara
from "Self Esteem" by The Offspring

i get a little agitated when
we're squirming on the couch & she's
licking at my ear & saying
saying saying that

it's you, baby it's you & she
wanders fingers all over America like she wants
to settle her population everywhere at once only
there's this thing nagging at me
about when i found her blowing Skip & then

that other thing with Jim & Emma & i
start to come out of the moment a bit & wonder
but then she puts her thumb right there & i forget why
i was worried & what i was trying to think about & she
gets to working my body so good who else she sleeps
with & cetera so long as she's now with
me doing that new thing with my

& anyway we're of course all friends
 
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#10

A million candles legerdemer
From You Want It Darker by Leonard Cohen

If thine is the glory then mine must be the shame
...
A million candles burning for the help that never came.

Speak your words clearly even if
you do not shout them, even if they are hidden. “Thine”
word, so easily misinterpreted, misspoken, is
taken in vain by multitudes, the
words put into the mouths of both innocents and murderers. Glory
be to the souls who follow your light, then
follow your word. Whereas mine
is the weak will I know must
falter and stumble, must question, be
led down myriad wrong paths, all leading only to the
everlasting shame.

So if I must try, try and yet not succeed, a
million times speak the same wrong words, a million
times assay and fail to find the one true path, as I look for candles
to at least flicker and show me the way, burning
their cloying incense, shedding light only on the souls of martyrs—for
I am not one—then at least do not throw the
shadow of ignorance, do not help
those who are your enemies, your antithesis. For if you do, all that
will mean you really never existed, were never
more than self-delusion. The dark still came
 
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#11

One More Time Guilty Pleasure
from The Stranger by Billy Joel

I

You did me so well!
When it seemed we
had done it all
you tell me you have
another idea, a
new angle. You tell me face
away, turn my back so that
you can bend me and we
copulate and masturbate. I can't hide
my pleasure, crying out until you pull away
leaving me shaken, it seems, forever.

II

The next night you brought props and
dressed me as a slutty nurse. We
fucked and rutted for hours, it didn’t take
you long to regenerate. I gentled your balls, sucking them
in, mouth full, and popping them out
until your cock stiffened again and
I took you in me once more. to show
you, a mirror (my prop) let us watch ourselves
 
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#12

Obsession Angeline
from A Strange Boy by Joni Mitchell

Never doubt that I was his
completely. Think I'm crazy?

I looked at him and saw wisdom.

So what if he was holding
his pain soft like a child? I held onto

my own exile, but he let something
break in me and I remembered how to be wild.
 
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#13

Would you dance butters

from Helen Reddy's Angie Baby"

Once-upon-a-time she dreamt she would,
even if she had to work on could, but you -
you're the tale she learned to dance,
the steps you drew for her with
charcoal glyphs that flew across the white of me,
who'd never dared to dance and yet you'd ask "Today?"
turn the quartet of my limbs this way, that, and say "I'll
make you into notes upon the page, I'll show
you how to be the music that you
play inside your head; you'll see how
bright you shine in others' eyes" - a ploy designed to
burn her, ice and flame, so you could have
your way and from her draw a
more momentous effort, elemental moves beyond her good -
cruel trick and so perverse but, given time,
would work and bear the fruit you planned to pluck - 'cos Angie,
i was just a dirt-smudge on her page - she's your baby.
 
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#14

Goodbye butters
from Elton John, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road


When hello morphs into the slow goodbye
our courage fails, and in your eyes the yellow
shows - though mine are red from how each brick
we broke threw dust into my face, until the road
i have to take appears to waver, shake, where
salted sunlight quivers on the
fringe of cold belief... and, somewhere in your distance, dogs
raise muzzles in the rain, to sing of
nameless sorrows, endless ordinary shames. Society
kills your game-face, crucifies you till you howl.

And though it's clear the past still clings, you
close your mind to face the day; can't
find a way to breathe; your lock
has lost its key; you drown in air. Me,
i feel my way, take on each step in
bolts and welds and cogs and springs - your
clockwork-hearted lover in a penthouse
on the river where the air runs cold but i'm
not shivering. The moon, it's going
to kiss the ground, far back
amongst the hills i know, to
cross the deep horizon, now, to spill into the stars - my
team hitched to its back, my iron plough
 
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#15

How a Poem's Made butters
from Simon and Garfunkel - The Boxer


They say, in a poem, there should be no 'I'
to alienate those glancing eyes who have
a dearth of empathy, emotions squandered
in their own day-to-days; instead it is my
job to draw them in, engage, to weaken their resistance
till they melt into the page, invest in the whole process, for
this is how a poem's made - connections. A
writer has to rummage through their pocketful
of fluff and treasures, take measure of
each hidden value rolled about the mouth as mumbles
that may grow to more than words. Such, and such
are pebbles that we sow, breathe upon till shoots are
showing, green above the dirt, and roots are promises
of succour and of nurture that one day all
will blossom, set, and fruit. Are these just lies
we tell ourselves for comfort in duress? And
are our lonely poems nothing more than cosmic jests?
 
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#16

Do You Recall butters
from David Bowie - Rock n Roll Suicide

Rock n Roll was sick and dying slow when the
starman burst onto the scene and threw it to the wall -
him and those damned spiders; they came to
Earth from Mars, you know? When carpet wall
-to-wall was all the rage, then all the walls fall down. Is
it too much to hope that Stardust's calling
and all the sinning's wages bought some good? It
should be more than smoke that lingers,
an epitaph to sex and drugs; and then
we watched as Ziggy pulled the pin, do you
recall? When Time it took a cigarette... lest we forget.
__________________
 
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#17

What lasts is love Angeline

Playing with Change's cover of the Beatles All you need is love

The winds may blow and life feels small when all
you hold is ash, but still you must recall that you
are born of trees and stars; so little does one need
being a seed sown neath a roof of sky and that is
why hate will always die. What lives and lasts is love.
 
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#18

One Manic Tempo Tzara

After The Ramones I wanna be sedated

Even if you were twenty
you couldn't be asking for it more. And twenty
times in twenty-four
hours

is a little too often to
expect a man my age to go.
Stop pouting. It's not that I
don't wanna—

Jesus God, not at all—but be
reasonable. I'd need to be sedated.
 
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#19

I'll Make You Dizzy, You Little **** Tzara

After Tommy Roe's Dizzy

It's not what you want. It's what I
feel you need to learn, to learn what I want,
what I demand, of you.

This is what you were born for,
to be my servant, my slave, my
toy. I may call you sweet,

but remember you are simply a pet.
No better than dog or cat. But
you have the responsibility of species. You

have intelligence, you know you need to keep
me happy, keep playing
these naked awkward positions so I get hard

and I can really force you in·to. . .
doing that thing, you know. That, geez, I for·get.
 
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#20

Geopolitics Piscator

After Michael Franks' "Popsicle Toes"

Donald looked down from America
and smiled when he saw
his on-schedule tower in Brazil
and twittered at Venezuela and Panama.
Then wondered if Tierra del Fuegos
was colder than Melania who froze
him out of the bedroom when she saw
that the huge cocks on those
Latin boys nearly reached their toes.
 
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#21

Clique Minervous

After Bobby Pickett;s: "Monster Mash"

The mean girls, the
ones Elizabeth and I thought were all ghouls

celebrated their dominance over all
of us who came

from Trailertown, from
that someplace way foreign to their
own snotty roots. Our humble
abode

simply became another way to
snub us, to get
some kind of hurt reaction from us, a
kind of jolt

that would energize them from
our embarrassment and pain, as if my

ego was wired to electrodes
that they
played with, did

their best to upset and disconcert, and effect the
flattening of my soul, its crush, its mash.
 
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The End

by the Doors - The End

I was going to try something with some of the lyrics but I couldn't. So I'll leave you with the last two verses of their 11 minute and 47 second edifice.

This is the end,
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end

It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die
This is the end​

Thanks to all who contributed. In all there are 21 submissions. It's now time to offer comments and guesses as to who wrote what in the comments section of this thread.

I'll put together a list of contributors over the weekend. However to make things a bit more difficult, I won't divulge he number of submissions for each contributor. Authors will be revealed the weekend of Sept. 30.
 
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