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INDEX Anger Fred Clapp Ballad of a Harlot Memories Colors Pink	Voices Words You Can't Silence Us Forever
Pink As a child, I saw life Thru a rose tint glass- A bright, unending world That couldn't pass- But , now youth and hasty judgement Blind the way I think, And when I see thru rose tint glass again, It will be a darker shade of pink! 1971	Memories What is a memory But a gilt-edged state of mind In which the action done, By time is glorified And the mind is gratified That all that past was one sweet dream That none can prove against! Norma Jean 1971

Peace Peace?.........You want peace? You say you do........but then you turn around And criticize your brother! Peace?........You want peace? Well, if you do, why then do you Not tolerate what motivates another?   Is it peace you want?............Peace just your way? Why then are you not willing To let other people live their way? You tell them all that they must care- Must sacrifice, give, bleed and share. But not for them you say that fair is fair- You call that peace?   Peace? ...........You want peace? The thing you ask Can sometimes be a double edged sword. Peace? ...........You want peace? And so you do, until it is Your ox that's being gored!   Is it truly peace you're asking for? Or is it that you just want power? And in the name of peace You will tell all of your foes to cease- All those who will not- Cannot bend beneath your banner- For they too, march to a different drummer- How do you know they don't want peace?   Peace?.... Yes, I want peace!........But, not at any price! Yes, living all in harmony would certainly be nice! But, peace........ if freedom doesn't follow- Well, that's just a bit of peace that I can't swallow!   It's peace I want- but freedom, too- To live my life- if not like you- To live my own- whatever way To choose my goals, and I can say I made it! It is mine- and if I want, I'll share And, only if I want- I'll care! But if I'm shackled for your peace- All that I am inside would cease- And for what I am, I'd fight and die for! 1984

Anger Anger.........A dark, exploding clowd within my head- Anger.........It's all my eyes can see when I'm in bed- My eyes are closed, and yet I see All the hurt, pain, misery The day has brought again to me.   My stomach tightens, bile rises I'm filled with hate, my mind despises All those who dare- who think they have a right To tell me how I can live my life- and then at night I try to sleep. I never can escape the pain The ever present, threatening thoughts that time and time again Relive themselves in stereophonic sound within my brain!   Anger......All I ever wanted was to fill the world with joy- Anger......Is it so very much to ask to live my life my way? My way is simple- no big deal- No games to play- I'm very real. Just what is wrong with what I feel?   I just believe in pleasure more than pain- If I helped a friend, what have I gained? Is making dreams come true so big a crime that I Must pay it off with time- I cannot buy It back- My time forever lost to me- and why? I have no answer- there is none to give! It is my life- why then do you not let me live? 1984-( just before prison)       return to top of page

Colors An azure sky of blue and pink and gold........ A silouetted tree outlined in bold Black and tall against the sky And here I sit and wonder why The view I see should soon be gone- For slowly, surely, purple drives the pink away, And gone- forever past- another day That gives unto another purple dawn. Norma Jean 1968 return to top of page

Words The words that once flowed from my pen Are dry and empty now. I was a little younger then, I didn't imagine how One could or would ever find An emptiness inside thheir mind That feels no pain, No hot, nor cold, Nor anything that would invite a show Of feelings there must be within a soul! 1968

Voices The voices of the past they beckon me to follow them, Down the corridors of time. I am afraid. Afraid they'll take me down too far- Down too many passageways Where I will find skeletal remains Of things I thought so beautiful- Like roses, pressed against the pages of time- Still sweet with scent- still sharp with thorns.   The voices call, I turn my head I close my eyes and cry. A tiny sob is all I hear escape my throat, and I Walk with them. So lost am I I cannot follow any longer for the pain Overwhelms my soul, and once again I have stumbled on my past- It cannot be erased or re-arranged- Like a mold, the die is cast- And I am forever bound to find it so- I turn around quickly and try to go.....   The voices cry- but low- the sound is changing- I am confused- or do they sound melodic now? Is this some new twist to my past I missed somehow? Has time numbed my soul, my pain is rearranging? Slowly, with great care my eyes are opened- I stand and look around at what I see- Is this the very past that has me frightened? Is this the 'awful' girl who once was me?   The voices now are singing, and I follow- I hum along with them, the tune is sweet- Perhaps not all that past is hard to swallow- Perhaps who that I was, I'd care to meet- Whoever and whatever that she was and did Made everything I am and want to be- I know that one thing is for certain, Whatever that she was, she now is me! 1982

Fred Clapp, Vice Cop This is the story of Fred Clapp Whose name by the way is most ap- This man , he works vice, Is a louse among Lice, A very unamenable chap.   A long time ago, we did meet. when I worked the old Hollywood Beat. When he asked for a date, I said, Ha, you can wait! And I drove with a laugh down the street.   And then many years later by fate, We unfortunately did have that date. But the date was in court, I am sad to report, And all of my words I then ate.   The outcome of story Is clear, Has no happy ending I fear. The man I once scorned, Left alone and forlorn, Had his date for which I paid dear.   The story's not over just yet. I will win in the end, I bet. When the whole thing is over, I'll be rolling in clover, And that will make poor Fred Clapp fret! after my arrest 1983

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Ballad of a Harlot My hair is red,..My heart is gold, and in my bed,my body's sold. I am a whore And I am proud! Although for sure, It's not allowed! A harlot I,By choice you see-And that is why I feel I'm free!   I'm free to choose the men I bed-We neither lose-They pay instead I give them joy,they give me money-I'm not their toy- I'm just their honey! Honey for an hour...And sometimes two! You think it gives me power? ......You can bet I do! Power to give pleasure.............Power to charge alot! Just how do we measure......... The value of a slut? A slut who loves to take a man..........And make him feel a king! So that every single chance he can.......He gives this ' slut' a ring!   And he appears, A little boy- With all his fears....He has his toy, If it's small ....Or if it's not-....I don't care at all! I'll make it hot!   A moment, then of fantasy.. Is worth for them...Their treasury! Since the time Is theirs alone......The fee is fine..I make no bones! I've made his life a little better...More than his wife....Who is oft his fetter! And in exchange, He'll give me cash..'Cause I arranged..To sell him my ass! If he leaves.... A happy man... I will not grieve-.... I did the best I can! Yes, I am a whore- and I am good! And I am sure..You'd be one if you could! 1984

You can't silence us forever You can't silence us forever with your guns and laws and jails... Or when you take our llives away When another method fails!   We're not frightened by your prisons You have put us there before. We're not hurt by names you call us, So, go ahead and call us Whore!   You are never going to stop us 'Cause you've made us much too strong. You may take away our freedom But you can't keep us down for long!   So, go on and do your damnedest Take your best shot while you can But we think we 'd better warn you You are never going to win!   You will never break our spirits Never stop us in our fight 'Cause we know we own our bodies You are wrong and we are right!

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