Poetry

IN MY MINDS EYE

I feel the summer comin’ on
Yellow and green lazy days
If I can please let me stay
Ramble my wind song
and sing the sky along it’s merry way

Like ​​many songwriters ​whose lyrics stand alone as poetry on the written page, Lonnie’s lyrics are no exception. We invite you to journey through his poetry.

A song for children to play games by.

I feel the summer comin’ on
Yellow and green lazy days
If I can please let me stay
Ramble my wind song
And sing the sky along it’s merry way

I’d like to be so fortunate
To run my laughing self along with you
If you can, I hope you will
Help me with my wind song
And sing the sky along it’s merry way

I’d like to give one day to you
Alone with dreams of magic things to do
If you are, then you might be
Rambling your wind song merry way

Come on children
Sing a little song to make us happy
Come on Chilfren
Then I’ll be on my way
Come on lady
Sing a little song to make us crazy
Come on lady
Then I’ll be on my way…

A song for children to play games by.

I feel the summer comin’ on
Yellow and green lazy days
If I can please let me stay
Ramble my wind song
And sing the sky along it’s merry way

I’d like to be so fortunate
To run my laughing self along with you
If you can, I hope you will
Help me with my wind song
And sing the sky along it’s merry way

I’d like to give one day to you
Alone with dreams of magic things to do
If you are, then you might be
Rambling your wind song merry way

Come on children
Sing a little song to make us happy
Come on Chilfren
Then I’ll be on my way
Come on lady
Sing a little song to make us crazy
Come on lady
Then I’ll be on my way…

Circa 1970

One, about a very real gypsy, the other, about a not so real sailor, or is he?

Kellie McBride, a Fable

Kellie McBride went walking one day, leaving her house behind her. She drank of the nectar the gypsies had left her, and never went home again

Mad Pollyanna with visions of Eden
Seeking a mooncalf’s home
Caught in the stream of bright tambourines
She joined in the gypsy roaming

Sang with their singing, danced with their dance
Rolled in their joy and sorrow
The piper he played her soft heart away
With never a care for tomorrow

He played in the morning to bring her from sleep
While softly the clouds danced above her
Fell in love with the piper, she became is wife
He vowed by the stars that he loved her

The rain-makers son, one day for fun
Stole a kiss from sweet Kellie
The piper, he cried
“A vow til I die, I’ll follow him into hell!”
Rainmaker’s son, far he did run

The piper he knelt to his bride
“I may be a wise man, perhaps a fool
I’ll  have no peace til he dies”
Kellie cried “No, I can’t let you go
For if you are gone it will kill me”

The piper he smiled, “Fear not, precious child
I must have revenge, my heart wills me”
The piper that day went riding away
Promised return by nightfall
He died for his queen
Or so it seems
He never returned at all

Kellie McBride, clothed in her sorrow
Draped in a midnight gown
Wandered away, and never came back
No one knows where Kellie McBride went down

Kellie McBride went walking one day
Leaving her house behind her
She drank of the nectar the gypsies had left her
And never went home again

1970

The Small Story of Long John Nuncle

Long John was a sailor
Bound for the sea of the Moon
Long John had a boat (in a bottle in a tiny room)
He called to his cabin boy
(a small black cat)
Cried, “fetch me a flagon of ale”
And wind did rise
And the boat set sail

Long John had a treasure
Bound for the port of the Rain
(Pieces of eight that he saved from a broken window pane)
Diving for treasure in a porcelain sea
And singing a nautical song
The wind did rise
And he sailed along

Long John was a sailor
The sea was an old man’s mind
Long John sailed alone in the wind of another time
He laughed so hard when they called him mad
That he nearly fell off of his bed
But he held his course
And he sailed ahead
Long John, where do you sail?

Circa 1970

Silent Rain

There is such a thing. And it took me a year and a trip to New York to find out. In a large cold city you can’t hear it.

Down the street I hear
Children are laughing
Playing games til the end of the day
Magic carpets and bright shining houses
Moonbeams made out of clay

There’s the mark of her head
On my pillow
The stains of our love in my eyes
Magic carpets meant only for walking
So I’m walking away

Voices
In the rain
Silently they seem to call my name
Voices
Telling me
I will never see the sun again
And the visions of a happiness
That I’ve never known before
Are gone
They are gone

“You were running boy
You caught the world in bloom
Now the silent rain
Falls on your lonely room
Sweep the cobwebs from your windows
Though there’s nothing left to see
All unbound her hair is falling
Silent rain alone will see.”

(and winter comes to the garden)
In the darkness the children are crying
Magic carpets lay still on the floor
Shiny houses are fading forever
Somewhere the water breaks

Somewhere it flows
Somewhere the silent rain falls
But it’s nothing at all

Circa 1970

Indian Bed

I never knew what this was for. I just wrote it one day last winter.

This  is a song about ticket stubs
Ivory and ebony
Cigarettes and plastic whistles
All on the Indian Bed
Song to the motherland
Head roads and heart attacks
Crying on a downy thistle
All on the Indian Bed

Winged archer flown from home
Far, too far to think about
Some remembered names forgotten
Don’t let it go to your head
Lonely chance in a theater’s womb
Ivory and ebony
Cough aloud and rest your head
Don’t let the dark upset you

Play upon this magic flute
Lavender and yellow
Play and someone maybe hears
Smiles and says hello
Saying something I’m not sure of
Speaking in tongues only angels and demons hear
As I lie within this silken chamber
All on the Indian Bed

Circa 1970

Express Highway

A very sinister blues, that I rarely perform, written on a greyhound between New York and Allentown, Penn at dawn.
All of New York’s evil in three verses, a bit like taking a mental shower, getting this one out.

Neon lights they talk too much
Never worry ‘bout what they’ve said
It’s time to remember your children
Gone crazy in their beds
Chrome plated ladies, stone cold babies
Fingers bloody red
And all you do is rattle around
The rocks within your head

Tell me why you wear those wings
When you’ve got no sky to fly
And stare around the vague surroundings
Of the miles within your eyes
Roll down, drop down mama
Can’t you hear your daddy cry
Screamin’ down this tunnel
A hundred miles an hour
Just looking for a place to die

Rid the rails of a black snake
From your birthday to your grave
Sit up, get out, go down to the river
If you think you’ve got a chance to bathe
Look out, the master’s comin’ with a stick
To weed out the quick and the brave
But it’s too late, better get back to the kingdom
There’s nothing left here to save

You were right
I’m getting wasted on this cold express highway
Yes you were right
And I’m going blind just looking for the light
Of day…

Circa 1970

For Cheryl – Song of the Gypsy

Finally, I built this lady up so high in my head and now, hearing her music again, I can’t  understand why someday this might be a song.

She came from a foreign city
With her songs and with her smiles
Songs of lovers, tales of sailors
And the magic in her eyes
And the wind upon her shoulder
Saying soon she must fly

She was a gypsy, or so I saw her
Once upon a time
And she played on strings of stardust
And she moved her words in rhyme
And we touched our eyes together
That moment she was mine

Then she went her way
Leaving only this song for me
And I spend my time
Hiding dreams that will never be
There is no story
There’s no tale to tell
I know her well
But only for a moment
Only for a moment
She stands in the rain
Of falling refrains
A child of the sky

She had a name
I called her heaven
And I’ll love her til I die…

Circa 1970

A Poem for the Rock and Roll Band

From time to time we get together and play but these days are best left to the past.

The sun will rise in your sky
If your eyes will let it be
Be lonely and alone
Come and live, come and…
Waterfalls in colors
Only ears can hear
Love, what is love
What name do you speak
Through teeth of white ivory
And lips of fire
Black and old
But young, not cold
Flowers and silence

Smiling a frown
Somewhere high
Maybe down
Come at midnight
When the suns up you’ll be gone

Well…
A long way to fall
But further to climb
Well…

Just one step past forever
In a land of fire and ice
Three minstrels there were playing
Very nice

Please turn the key
To see, please be kind
Come inside
And join in our madness
The sun will rise in your sky
If your eyes will
Let it be…

Circa 1970

Rye Song AKA Little Town

For a small town in New York

Little town
Just a tiny place I’d like to settle down
And greet a smiling face each morning
‘cause I’m just about set to pack it in
Just about ready to lose
My friend, I’m thinking that one more chilling wind
Is gonna send me to my home

I’ve got a car,
It’s just a broken old chugger
But I don’t have to get too far
Up the road to a country corner
Where all I’ll have is time
To spend the rest of my life unwinding
Working on some hard earned good times
Flying on a bottle of wine

So now I’m living slow
Left the road behind me
I’ve got no place to go
But stroll on down to the ice cream parlour
Share a few words with a friend of mine
Talk about all of those early times
Back when we through there wasn’t a wall
So high that us children couldn’t climb

But I’m making plans
Best meant to save up ’til tomorrow’s end
Because there’s one more wall I’d like to climb
One more dream I’d like to find
And there’s a lady and a
Story down the highway
And I’d love to make them mine
Tomorrow is plenty of time
For my little town…

1971

Everybody’s Singing Songs About Saying Good-Bye

By Lonnie Knight and Scott Alarik

Give me one good reason why I should stay in the city
Can you take one moment, can you feel what I feel?
Can you feel the lonely breath of the city?
I feel gray when the city breathes on me

Watching weeping windows
And the peeping toms down Broadway
Bleak, in midnight movies all alone
Desolation feeds the fog in the city
All the good clean country air goes home

The city has its chains on me
And they’re cold
And they’re fine
But looking in your weary wanting eyes
You ease my mind
Like summer wine

I can close my eyes and see my footsteps
In the country
Laughing down a path that takes me home
No one there to ask me where I’m going
Feels like summertime, I’m free to roam

I could take you with me, from the city
If you want to go
Can you take one moment, come with me
Laughing down a path that leads to nowhere
Rolling down a road that sets us free…

Circa 1971

The Last Road Blindly

A journey of children, the aged seeking youth, a journey for wisdom, where lies posed as truth, one day they went out, upon a road.

Written late in the year, or perhaps early, 1969-1970

What’s in my eyes
Has the time gone so long I can’t see?
All of my trials are like paintings down a hall
And the windows stare confusion to the sea
While she waits by the sea

Songs in a dream
Can I touch you, can I hold out my hand?
While we walk near this stream
Cascading in the breeze
The haunted wind rolls madly to the sea
While she waits patiently

And the children were called together
In their hands lay a chain of tears
And their bodies were hot for laughter
And their joy laid a grave for their fears
And I raised up my head
The sleeping river answered, it is done

There in that still light
While we lie together, mirrors in the night
Holding on, our feeling ever growing
The morning comes again
And I promise until then I will be near
And I raised up my head
The sleeping river answered, it is done…

But it was not

Journey

Black sheep
Black sheep
Have you any wool?
Enough to cover my eyes?
Come divest me of my demons
Make me clown or make me fool
Keep your wisdom, devil
Please don’t make me wise

I am not an empty page
I am not an empty cup
Come erase me, fill me up
With fresh and fine design
On the rivers I will dwell
In a boat of woven reed
And float beyond the jackal’s call
And bide my time until the fall
And plant a fresh and virgin seed
And christen it with honey wine

I will wear a loose and flowing garment
Bind my hair with autumn leaves
Strip my mind of old and sullen, sudden painful memories
As all my present prophets cry
“The past is dead, lay it down to die,”
I shall sprout wings
And sweetly, sweetly fly away

1973

I Want You

No land in human terrain is less explored than love
Staying secure and defended keeps us from riches undreamed of
I had a memory of my future living in the zipcode of I don’t know
Where love sharpened all our senses and called on us to grow
We journeyed hand in glove, into the intimate communion
Naked, open, aware, alive, know the hearts of our true companion
We laugh, we cry, we wrestle, we agree to disagree
We till the soil for our beloved
We unearth the seeds of our family tree
Hello goodbye hello again
I want you I want me I want this
I want you
I want you
I want you

Daddy’s Attic

You come to know a person
By what they leave behind
And I’ve come to know myself
By the things I chanced to find
In Daddy’s attic

Now I’ve got my father’s hat
I wear it at a young man’s angle
I still look just like my dad
Oh what weird webs we tangle

Now I’ve got my first guitar
A childhood memory come to life
It’s the oldest thing I own by far
It’s older than my first wife

2008

Clown

An unfinished song. I’ve always wondered where clowns go, but I never found out, but this is a song about one.

There’s a man whose days are filled with loneliness
He never laughs anymore
And no one comes to see him
He sits beside his door all day
He hears the sounds of laughter
From the folks in town
But no one comes to see a lonely clown

I used to be a young boy
I’d go to the carnival fair
To see the flying acrobats
And the clown with the mulberry hair
Each day he’d bring the sounds of laughter
From the folks in town
But the years grew hard
The circus closed him down

Take off your wigs,
Wipe the paint from your face
You’re an old man now
We have no place for you
“But I made them laugh”
Screamed the clown to the walls
“Do you have no room for an old man?”

Circa 1970

Clown

An unfinished song. I’ve always wondered where clowns go, but I never found out, but this is a song about one.

There’s a man whose days are filled with loneliness
He never laughs anymore
And no one comes to see him
He sits beside his door all day
He hears the sounds of laughter
From the folks in town
But no one comes to see a lonely clown

I used to be a young boy
I’d go to the carnival fair
To see the flying acrobats
And the clown with the mulberry hair
Each day he’d bring the sounds of laughter
From the folks in town
But the years grew hard
The circus closed him down

Take off your wigs,
Wipe the paint from your face
You’re an old man now
We have no place for you
“But I made them laugh”
Screamed the clown to the walls
“Do you have no room for an old man?”

Circa 1970

Jessica’s Carnival

A song about a pretty lady I’ve never met and a circus I’ve never been to.

Sweet Jessie come to me
Make me feel at ease
Laugh the winter from my eyes
And tell me about the carnival
The magic dancing clowns
And all the dreaming ladies

Heal me with your touch
Let your songs unwind
Tell me about the Ferris wheel
The time you rode so high
You grabbed a handful of the sky
And brought it home to me

But that was long ago
The winter time has come
The sun is shrouded in a leaden veil
The wind is drumming at my door
I dream half forgotten dreams
Of ice cream days
Of silver lights and Jessica
Beside me as I played my songs

In hollow melodies
Of carnivals I see
Sweet Jessie rolling home
Here to lie with me…

Circa 1970

The Next Best Thing to Being There

I’m riding down the highway
In my bucket of tin
My hands full of wheel
And my head full of gin
I’ll never get to heaven
‘Cause I’ve tasted every sin

But if I’m not delivered I’ll just thank God
For where I’ve been
I’ve got less than nothing
But that’s more than enough
I love to play this game, but I don’t want to play too rough

Last night I tried to call you
To tell you how I feel
Of my nights beneath these city lights
And my days beneath the wheel

I see your name on every sign post
Your name in each white line
My eyes get so cloudy, from my tears and my wine
G it’d B nice to C
But I know what I see each time I open my eyes
Another day of miles, and another mile of whys

I could write you a song
I could tell you a joke
I could be your best friend
Or just the last word you spoke
I need a place in the world
I need a place in the sky

But I’m too late for caterpillars
And too soon for butterflies,
Lord I’m so tired, Lord I’m so wise
I can fill you full of stories
I can’t look you in the eyes

Last night I tried to talk to you
You wouldn’t take the call
What the hell
I guess that’s all

July, 1972

Furry Foot

This is a rather surrealistic poem, named after a certain flavor (caramel and peppermint bon bon) malted milk.

The night comes furry-footed falling
Rain washed, sun stained
Motherless he pries
Fatherless he peers
Through dense eye underbrush
Under streetlight needles falling
Showering him ever soft
With rainbow stings

NEATH THE MOON HE SITS AND WONDERS

Mighty auto-river shore behind him
Alley stream before
Walking the grassy plain to soften his foot-feets
Clicking clacking booth heels down the
Mirror street, rainbow city

Now the moon, full and spilling
With promises of sunny day guide his way
Crunchy on the pave path
Another night of leather smells
And half stuffed noses
And hands in pockets from almost cold
Thinking about it
A shrug and it could be gone
But the wonder and the recall
Remains…but no…
That too will surely fall away
As the neon of his evening fantasy
Sputters on to a cold tubular demise

Vague, nightmare shadows
A darkness even laughing
The hand of the mad wind-maker
Brings his only magic tonight

Circa 1970

Joys of Alone

Will Jones described this as a song about “banging one’s head on the moon”, and perhaps he was right.

If I had but mapped her softest sigh
Or written down her name
Her silken smile would now be mine
To touch upon from time to time
To keep me from the rain

But that was then, I might say
When distance was near
And everyone’s smile was her home
We tumbled on mountain tops
Lost in our play
Listened to rain sounds that sang where we lay
But in silence and tears she has flown
And I’m learning the joys of alone

Did you just bang your head
On the moon when you passed?
Every day passes in echoes of joy
One for the lady and one for the boy
One for the young man
Who waits with no reason
For sunrise, for sunrise

If I had but mapped her softest sigh
Or written down her name
But chances are lost in a moment of doubt
The summer has flown
I’m without her
To keep me from the rain

Circa 1970

Lazy

For no reason at all.

I’m gonna’ take it easy
Let the river flow down
Stream like a kite in the wind
I won’t think about where I’ve been
Just ask me for a good time
You’ve got a new friend

There’s a lovely little lady
Waitin’ over the hillsides are just right
For walkin’ the blues away and home again
And never have a worry
Til you get to the end

We were talkin’ about forever
That’s a funny way to say good-bye
There isn’t a reason you can’t please me
Just believe me if I try
To climb through a hole in the sky

Don’t ask me if I’m crazy
I’m just biding my time to go
Hey, thanks for the ride
I get tired of these walkin’ blues
And hey, I get tired of these holes in my shoes
But it doesn’t really matter
I’ve got nothing to lose…

Circa 1970

Carry Her Back To Me

A song written in 1967 by Thomas R. Smith and Lonnie Knight

Standing on a beach
Remembering days in the sun
Waves about my feet remind me
That I am the lonely one
As I look across the shallows
See her reflection in the water
Carry her back to me

A shadow falls across my face
Is it a frown
Like a castle made of sand
My whole world is falling down
And the tides, they never cease
And I pray to the sunlit water
Carry her back to me

I remember golden sand
Pressing close her hand
Incandescent sky of blue
Who would ever think that I loved her
When the world was new
With melting ice
To feed the rivers of our souls
That spring comes once
But never twice
Never knowing just how precious
Letting moments slip away
Carry her back to me

Thompson St.

This was inspired by a bar in Greenwich village where I found myself lonely.

Wind blowin’ easy times on me
I’m feelin’ fine
I’ve sung the praise of summer days
So many times before
But they’re lost to the breeze
Like time and the seasons
Gone on a somewhere journey

Ramblin’ days and dreamin’ nights
Seagulls eyes are clear and bright
He’s singin, flyin’ to nowhere
I wonder where his wings have gone
Before the dawn has seen him
Like a moonlight path
On the hyaline
There are roads I’ll never follow

Who’s that ragged child I see
Funny how he looks like me
I dreamed a dream of peregrine
Laughed at all of your tears
There’s so many things I’ve learned
Streets I walk the pavement burns
When I dream my mind returns
To bring you a song

Wind blowin’ easy times on me
I’m feelin’ fine and free and easy
I wrote a name on the back of my hand
This place where I landed today
Then I sent you a letter
Mailed on the wind
There’s one thing I want to tell you
It’s a long long way to Thompson Street
A longer way back home

Circa 1970

Lady

Dedicated to Christmas cards and other sore spots.

Lady
Walkin’ around with your head held high
Tryin’ so hard to catch my eyes
As I’m flyin’ by
Dear lady
Still lookin’ back at the summertime
Recallin’ the days I drank your wine
We was feelin’ fine

Lady
Sleepin’ at night with your window shade
Open to catch the first light of day
Then you rise and say
“Hey baby
When are you comin’ around again”
You know I’ll be by now and then
But don’t wait for when

I gotta get my head cleared out
I’m rollin’ round about
I can’t settle down
Til I’ve been to town
I gotta have my fun
Take off my clothes
And lay in the sun
Without anyone around to say
“Boy you shouldn’t carry on this way”

Hey lady
I know you mean well with your offer
Hey, but I’ve gotta move
I don’t want to stay at least not today

Dear lady
Walkin’ around with your head held high
Why couldn’t we just say good bye
As we’re  flying’ by each other

Circa 1970

Rolling

He will take you by the river and sing your songs
Of lives held in your silken eyes
And he will tell you, look out for tomorrow
And you will only know his rolling
For in his mind a fire is burning
Though he’s laughing at your side
He’s always longed to fly
So he’ll kiss you and then he’ll follow the sparrows
Wherever they go
And you’ll only know his rolling

And you wonder, who’s the boy?
And, why’s he so hung up on flying?
He’s singing about tomorrow and magic lanterns
And brown-eyed ladies and ships at sea
And all the things he’d like to be

He says he’s got something to give you
A moment of your time for a tiny piece of rhyme
Seeking sunlight he runs with the darkness
And you’ll only know his rolling…nothing more…

Circa 1970

If I Did Fly

If I did fly from your window
If the sheets sang, I was gone
Not long after dawn
If the wooly world bade you fond good morning

If the sun was noble
When they came with the papers
To crate up the past
To call down my fortune
And dance on my ass
With the tenement cracks, the tired aching hearts
The rugs torn apart
And the dog full of gas

If my one final flicker of hope was the rope…
I hear your mad stumble
I hear your brief cry
Up the stairs, through the door
Part the curtains, stare blind down the street
Where am I?

If I’ve run off to hide in the sun
If my one final flicker of hope was the mask and the sea
Will you bury my name ‘neath a green growing tree

August, 1972

The Last of the Great Pretenders

I need an understanding hand…

I need an understanding hand
A little peace for this one man band
All my mornings, my good earth turns to shifting sand
I’m drowning in your call
I slip, but somehow keep from falling
Tell me, is that all that you mean to me?

I’ve been down
But these tiny circles
Round my eyes
Don’t make a frown
I’m the last of the great pretenders
A little of the Gypsy kind
Paying dues
Singing blues
And drinking wine…

Now you’ve come around
Bearing magic in your eyes
Makes me smile
And makes me frown
You know I’d love to hold you
But I’m running out of rhyme
So I’ll sing my song for you one more time
And leave a part of myself behind
And like so many others
I’ll move on down the line…

Circa 1970

Plea

Written late in the year, or perhaps early, 1969-1970

And I’ve walked with the empty handed
They all know my name, they share my claim to fame
They know my feelings
Yes and they know my thoughts
The fights I’ve fought
The pains that I’ve been taught
I cannot leave them

The things I see the things I hear
Some bring me pain, some bring me cheer
And you are standing very near
But I’ve never known you
Yes other loves have caught my eye
Other dreams have bled me dry
I can no longer hold the lies
For all the time I’ve abused you

…These days I sing myself to sleep
Someone  is weeping in my heart
I think it’s me
I long to be free to belong to you…

And in the dark of night I pray
There are these things that I must say
Is this the debt that I must pay
I cannot lose you
Your touch is warm, your eyes are kind
Your mouth is sweet, my eyes are blind
And only now I wake to find
How much I need you…

Circa 1970

| STORIES |