Sorry I haven’t posted. I am still planning to write about my vacation to Death Valley relatively soon but thought i better throw something new up here, so here is a poem i wrote and forgot about in my planner. It may be called “spinach or chard” but that could be part of a shopping list.

The question is ambivilance

The heart can host a storm

Immersed in infinity

I don’t remember being born

I look forward to hello

But don’t begrudge goodbye

My life may be a hurricane

But I live in the eye

The I, the aye, the eye.

For I am an observer

I know I know I know

I see what I might see

I see where I might go

My mind’s eye is even greater

It sees what is not there

And climbs the highest mountains

Can be every one and every where.

And I am just a spark

Of this eternal raging fire

For I have felt its burning

Though you dare to call me liar

There is no God, God does not exist

Its just a mystic’s dream

A fairy story for scared kids at night

For some that’s how it seems

But I have tasted of the fruit

And dared to take the time

To delve into my deepest self

From horror to sublime

And I have seen divinity

Looked it square in the eye

Everything collapses into probability

Without the observer’s I.

And I know I know not everything

But I know I know I can

And I suspect I’m not unique in this

But just a simple man

And I have seen the many others

And felt they’re just the same

Where ever eyes create the world

Surely God has came.

Last Thursday I had the great honor of reading some poetry at The Orr Street Gallery at a multi-media presentation put on by The Shelter on domestic violence and sexual assault. It was built around an 18 minute video of survivor’s telling their stories and it was very empowering to hear these incredible stories. I read 4 poems, closing with “A Good and Happy Child” which i posted when it was new. I thought I would include the others here:

“A Song of Love and Respect”

My Mother’s Mother was a lunatic

Her father died when she was twelve

She didn’t have anyone to teach her right from wrong

She had to learn that herself

She was raised by her sister and my Uncle Ott

A mean old bastard liked to fight a lot

He would start drinking around about lunch

He was harsh with his words and quick with a punch

So she left home when she was seventeen

With a boy she hardly knew who looked like James Dean

He liked to be in control didn’t want anyone to meet her

When she stepped out of line boy he’d beat her

So yeah she’s a little fucked up

She’s had to go through a lot

And yeah she’s a little fucked up

But tell me someone who’s not

She gets a little skittish if you move too quick

She’s lived in fear of the bomb

She worries about this and worries about that

But still she’s been a pretty good Mom

And yeah she’s a little fucked up

She’s had to go through a lot

And yeah she’s a little fucked up

But tell me someone who’s not

###########

“Define my own Reality”

I reserve the right to define my own reality

And that of others

Who have more power and less compassion

More voice and less insight

And for any hurt kitten who comes to my door

Licking a bleeding paw and needing a reality to stand in

Tall and proud and unafraid

And for any casual passerby

Eavesdropping on my public private musings

My meanderings through the memic garden of delight

###########

“Becoming Whole”

You see the whole absurdity

Of the human condition

And strive to see the beauty

In the life that your living

You’ve overcome the emptiness

And learned the art of giving

And you have broken the chains

That once held you down

You have learned to re-arrange

You are an agent of change

You think, and you learn, and you are

Destined for the stars

You love every part of life

You see the hope and the magic

You smile through the darkest nights

And rise to face the tragic

And you have opened your mind

And reached for the prize

You have learned to feel and grow

You can let people know

Change has happened before

It will happen again

The least shall rise up

The great shall pay for their sins

And you stand upon the rooftop

And shout out your agnosticism

But you love your neighbor as yourself

And live out your cathechism

And you have crossed the Great Valley

And are on the Other Side

You have faced the Great Fear

You have crossed the Divide

You have learned to overcome

Light shines from your soul

You are mighty and strong and you are

Becoming whole

Here’s a quick post while i wait for a print job. Many years ago i would write funny little caricature songs about my interesting friends but some of the subjects thought they were less than flattering. In response I wrote a song about several of my family and friend’s good qualities. I read it at The Shelter gathering at Nancy’s and am going to do it at Voices on the 18th.

Becoming Whole

You see the whole absurdity in the human condition

And strive to see the beauty in the life that your living

You’ve overcome the emptiness

And learned the art of giving

And you have broken the chains

That once held you down

You have learned to rearrange

You are an agent of change

You think and you learn and you are

Destined for the stars

You love every part of life

You see the hope and the magic

You smile through the darkest nights

And rise to face the tragic

And you have opened your mind

And reached for the prize

You have learned to feel and grow

You can let people know

Change has happened before

It will happen again

The least shall rise up

The great shall pay for their sins

And you stand upon the rooftop

And shout out your agnostocism

Yet you love your neighbor as yourself

And live out your cathechism

And you have crossed the great valley

And are on the other side

You have faced the great fear

You have crossed the divide

You have learned to overcome

Light shines from your soul

You are mighty and strong and you are

Becoming Whole

Next Wednesay i will be on tour of missouri with Dave Smith of all people. I am going to try to get at least the Amsterdam portion of going crazy done before then. I hope to change focus and tell some stories with Dave as we tool around the Ozarks and points North. Dave has been a diligent correspondent of late in spite of me not writing back and he took one of my behaviors in writing and sending me a poem that he didn’t keep a copy of. since its mine i have decided to post it. i believe its dave’s first online poetry.

Leftist gorillas and the likes – how ’bout a

banana?- if trees were made out of plastic

they’d Stand all alone, millions of ’em

forever – Sign 100 thousand feet high – reaching

toward the Sky – just so – “can you hear

the drummer…” slowin’ ” – enter nothin’

I really like this one, in Dave’s description he calls it “crisp, clean hot off the press just balanced enough to enter your soul and heart simaltaneously” (sic) and I think thats true. In one line he riffs on one of my poems which i will enter here. Its my commentary on corporate mergers and capital accumulation leading to its logical conclusion that there is only one corporation.

Whammo! 

I hope one day

When there’s only one corporation

That its Whammo!

They invented the frisbee

And the hoola hoop, i think

So why shouldn’t they be the ones who get to rule the world.

Not the big banks

Who have never helped a child learn to play

Or a man bond with his dog at the local park

They’re to busy funding wars

All more deadly than before

And they don’t care who wins besides

They’re collecting interest from both sides

And the only pay for those who die

Are copper coins to cover their eyes.

And not the tele-communication empires

Spewing electronic pablum

Oh, how they’ve always done

Only now its the six o’clock news

And not just Gilligan’s Island.

Scintilating, titilating, nauseating half truths

To gather market share

To sell you a “Revolutionary New” hair care product

Or something for that “Not So Fresh Feeling”.

They sell sex and violence

Then ring their hands at Columbine

But with their star making coverage the next is not far behind

Live on ABC, CBS, and CNN!

And an old man says to his grandson

That I remember when

Kids respected their parents

And didn’t shoot their friends.

And the boy practicing “head shots”

Will cry from the other room

I’ll be with you in a minute Granpa

When I finish this game of Doom.

And not The Manufacturers

Of our god, The Sacred Car

That we drive to the treadmill at they gym

Because we wouldn’t want to walk that far.

And we’ll cover the entire planet

In pavement or in tar.

And if you want to breathe clean air

You’ll buy it at the Oxygen Bar.

And so my friends

When the story ends

And the last competitor falls.

If you want to fill your tank

Or go to the bank

Or shop at The World Wide Mall

The sign outside

Waving far and wide

Because its ten thousand feet tall!

Ought to read Whammo Corporation,

By god, we own it All!

Here are the lyrics to songs i did with John Fenn in our roots band.

Leon Czolgozs

 

McKinley went to the Rainbow City

Where the lights shown bright as the sun

And Buffalo never shined so bright

As it did in nineteen-o-one

But he never took The Trip to the Moon

Where midgets served green cheese

Or saw the happy slaves at The Cotton Plantation

Busy as honeybees

Because at The Temple of Music lurked Leon Czolgosz

And Anarchy was his creed

He had a 38 revolver under his hanky

And assassination was his deed

 

Leon Czolgosz shot McKinley

“Why should so many people serve just one?”

Leon Czolgosz shot McKinley

For the poor-tired-huddled masses served by none

 

McKinley walked among the people

Didn’t think he had an enemy

Comfortable in his privileged position

He would never see

That a tenement dwelling sweat-shop worker

Would come out for more than fun

Or that someone besides the US army

Knew power comes from the barrel of a gun

 

Leon Czolgosz was born and raised

In a Detroit tenement

But he had a foreign name and a funny beard

And this is how the politics went

Congress banned immigration

Anarchy became a crime

Revolution increases state repression

Damn near every time

 

 

I Shot Jesse James

 

Jesse James was just a boy

When he followed his brother Frank

Into Quantrill’s irregulars

Where they robbed many a bank

They murdered and they pillaged

In the name of the Confederacy

And left a path of terror

Across the state of Missouri

When the war was over

Jesse’s killing was not done

He passed up peace with the Union

And set out on the run

Robbing banks and robbing trains

And killing just for fun

Seventeen men went to Boothill

Beneath his blazing gun

 

And reputation is everything

When you play the gunfighter game

And killing a famous killer

Is the quickest way to get a name

He was trailed by every two-bit wanna-be

Whose goals were all the same

To be the man who shot Jesse James

 

I shot Jesse James

I shot Jesse James

“If you see me coming better step aside

A lot of men didn’t a lot of men died”

I’m as much of a killer as cyanide

Cuz I shot Jesse James

 

Charles Ford was meek and mild

But his sister was pretty wild

She fell for the famous gunfighter

Cuz she liked the way he smiled

She liked the cold glint in his eye

The way he didn’t give a damn

She took him back to Charles’s house

When they set out on the lam

They lived together for several months

Like a happy family

Till Charles thought about the reward

And the chance to make history

He asked Jesse to hang a picture

Cuz he didn’t have the knack

And he grabbed up his six-shooter

And shot him in the back

 

 

 

The Ballad of Cherokee Bill

 

“I came here to die not to make a speech”

I’ve killed many men in my life

I’ve shot them down in gunfights boy

And I’ve cut them down with my knife

My skin is dark my momma’s of the tribes

We were never given a choice

My Cherokee people drive from our homelands

Denied an honest living and a voice

And the blood of slaves runs through my veins

But I’d rather die than to serve

To slave my life with no hope of gain

I’d rather live by my gun and my nerve

So I’ve robbed your banks and killed your lawmen

I’ve never lost in a fight

I’ve filled my pockets with banker’s gold

And your towns live in fear of my might

I shot so many that my legend grew

And there were none brave enough to call me out

So you plied me with your cards and whiskey

And a blow from behind laid me out

So now I will hang for what you call my crimes

Live by the gun face the noose

But so do my brother’s who till their land

While their white murderers wander loose

So bring on the rope you hypocrites

Now that I’ve fallen into your reach

And I’ll keep these words to myself

“I came here to die not make a speech”

 

Kewpie Doll Love

 

Down in Moline at The County Fair

There was a Kewpie Doll and a Teddy Bear

They had sat on the shelf for nigh on three years

They made kewpie doll love and shed teddy bear tears

 

Kewpie doll love and teddy bear tears

They’ll ease your sorrows and calm your fears

Life has its up and downs o’er the many years

But I’ll keep my kewpie doll love and teddy bear tears

 

Well one day there was the unthinkable

A boy knocked down the milk-bottles with just one throw

The little boy picked the Bear as his prize

He never saw the tears in the Kewpie Doll’s eyes

Bear never again saw his Kewpie Doll bride

His heart was broken and soon he died

Kewpie Doll met with a similar fate

Believe it or not it was the very same date

 

Doll went to Heaven cuz she said her prayers

And who did she see but the Teddy Bear

God picked them up and put them on a shelf

No one can see them except Herself

And sometimes God will watch the two

When Her days are hard or She is blue

I think of them when bedtime’s near

And dream of kewpie doll love and teddy bear tears

 

Cowboys ain’t much like they used to be

 

Cowboys used to work hard every day

At night around the campfire they’d listen to the fiddle play

A song about the range where they belong

And all the cowboys would sing along

 

But cowboys ain’t much like they used to be

Got gun-racks on their pick-up trucks and SUVs

They listen to the radio quite passively

While someone else sings about the range

 

In days of old men would dare to behold

Sights that had never before been seen

They’d grab their horse and grab a saddle

Or grab a canoe and start to paddle

And travel to where the air is clean

 

But cowboys ain’t much like they used to be

Got exhaust fumes from their pick-up trucks and SUVs

They pollute the earth most aggressively

While someone else sings about the range

 

Magic

 

Ain’t no magic in a Caddy

Ain’t no magic in a yacht

Ain’t no magic left in money

Cuz you know its gonna rot

 

Ain’t no magic in a harsh word

Ain’t no magic left in hate

Ain’t no magic in despair

To sit and curse your fate

 

But there’s magic in forgiveness

There’s magic left in love

There’s magic in the Mother Earth

And in the Sky Above

 

And there’s magic in introspection

Best magic that I know

And there’s magic in the wild places

But few that ever go

 

And there’s magic in a child’s smile

And there’s magic around the bend

So lets walk another mile child

Where there’s magic without end

 

And there’s magic in a clothes dryer

When in years its not been run

It means the magic of the winter wind

Clothes dry in the summer sun

 

Ye Are Gods

 

Ye are gods the bible says and I it

Every word in the bible is true

And I believe King David when he says it

And I believe when Jesus says it too

 

I believe that Elisha the prophet

Was teased by some kids for being bald

And God sent down a killer bear

And forty-two kids were mauled

 

I believe that the poor should drink wine

Vodka or forty ounce beers

So they can forget their troubles

And not have to shed more tears

 

I believe it is wrong to masturbate

Even if no one else is around

Cuz God struck dead poor Onan

For spilling his seed upon the ground

 

I believe that ye shall judge not

It is much better to forgive

Unless it is a woman using magic

Than suffer not a witch to live