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By suggestion, a place for the poets among us to post their words.
March to be Free
Been praying for the people of the middle-eastWho want to live in freedom, want to live in peace
And not just there but everywhere
People getting tired of a world that's run by clowns
Taking all the money, but soon they're going down
Maybe we'll build a world that shares
Time to come together, time to take a stand
Time to lay the cards down, time to play your hand
The winds of "change" are in the air
Don't know what to do? Just wing it
Don't care what you wear, just bring it
Write a song of Hope and sing it
Grab that Freedom Bell and ring it
Love that Howl, Teller
Are you the next Bob Dylan? You should get your ass to Madison right now and hand that out, sing it or play it, whatever man -- get it out there! Howl on dude!
Sky Pilot, The Animals
He blesses the boys as they stand in lineThe smell of gun grease and their bayonets they shine
He's there to help them all that he can
To make them feel wanted he's a good holy man
Sky pilot.....sky pilot
How high can you fly
You'll never, never, ever reach the sky
He smiles at the young soldiers
Tells them its all right
He knows of their fear in the forthcoming fight
Soon there'll be blood and many will die
Mothers and fathers back home they will cry
Sky pilot.....sky pilot
How high can you fly
You'll never, never, ever reach the sky
He mumbles a prayer and it ends with a smile
The order is given
They move down the line
But he'll stay behind and he'll meditate
But it won't stop the bleeding or ease the hate
As the young men move out into the battle zone
He feels good, with God you're never alone
He feels so tired and he lays on his bed
Hopes the men will find courage in the words that he said
Sky pilot.....sky Pilot
How high can you fly
You'll never, never, ever reach the sky
You're soldiers of God, you must understand
The fate of your country is in your young hands
May God give you strength
Do your job real well
If it all was worth it
Only time it will tell
In the morning they return
With tears in their eyes
The stench of death drifts up to the skies
A young soldier so ill looks at the sky pilot
Remembers the words:
"Thou shalt not kill"
Sky pilot.....sky pilot
How high can you fly
You never, never, ever reach the sky
thanks lamagonzo...
but I can't play harmonica, and he's a much better singer than me, writer too. But I try.
can I tell?
Time Miner3/6/11
One night the Panther came to me
As I lay beneath the trees
A predator both wild and free
One pounce would be the end of me
I got up on my knees
Then time began to freeze
There was a meeting of the minds
That left me feeling hypnotized
His eyes were pools of liquid gold
I felt a spirit, very old
A warrior from ancient lands
Who said, "you soon will understand"
At first my ears began to ring
Then my head began to spin
Next thing I know we'd left the ground
And drifted up inside a cloud
In this cloud visions appeared
While from the distance something neared
I heard the ticking of a clock
And what I saw left me in shock
There was a clock that had no hands
An hourglass that had no sands
I checked its face and wondered "how?"
The only thing it said was "now"
chorus
Now - it's a train at the station
Now - like the dawn of creation
Now - it's a liberation
Of universal mind
Vision gone, we'd left the skies
Still staring into Panther's eyes
The Panther turned and walked away
"Thank you my friend" was all I'd say
Now - it's a train at the station
Now - like the dawn of creation
Now - it's a liberation
Of universal mind
for Bear
Crystal Blue Persuasion
Eddie Gray, Tommy James, Mike Vale
Look over yonder what do you see?
The sun is a'rising most definitely
A new day is coming people are changing
Ain't it beautiful crystal blue persuasion
Better get ready gonna see the light
Love, love is the answer and that's all right
So don't you give up now so easy to find
Just look to your soul and open your mind
Crystal blue persuasion mm-hmm
It's a new vibration
Crystal blue persuasion, crystal
... blue persuasion
Maybe tomorrow when He looks down
On every green field and every town
All of his children and every nation
They'll be peace and good brotherhood
Crystal blue persuasion
Crystal blue persuasion
Crystal blue persuasion
Crystal blue persuasion
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crystal_Blue_Persuasion
it was the summer of '79
I was at a partyat the JK school
of disembodied poets
while listening to Allen
bewail my lady friend
with an impromptu about her
'strawberries';
His girl groupies were massaging
his torso, yes,
his guy groupies were more notable
but he did have his girl groupies too,
and it all became a little
nauseating for me;
Nanao was nowhere to be seen,
he could always be counted on
to break up such scenes
with his armpit farting noises
and silly jokes, but not tonight;
so I found my way out back
onto the back porch,
looking out the back side
of the 'mall' street.
I sat there, waiting for the
'star' clustering to subside,
when who should join me
out there but Ken himself.
I was a bit shocked when he
started to talk to me, and
then as we talked about
our favorite Boulder folk,
my tai-chi teachers,
Jane and Bataan, he
began to pace back and forth
on the porch
much like a caged tiger,
as he told me about
this and that, and
some about the other thing.
I pinched myself a couple times,
as he paced back and forth in the
rhythm of his rhyme, it all fell in
to place of, hey! I shut up,
I wasn't going to do anything to
shorten this moment, Ken
walking back and forth like
Neal on the railroad tracks.
We liked the same things and
the same people, so we
continued on for about a half an hour,
until the scene inside was
less off-putting, then we went
back to the party. Ken was
a very sweet man, and had
no pretense out there on
the porch, we shared a moment,
that I still carry with me
today. Ken and Babbs,
and the buttons on the table.
It was the summer of '79.
two new writings 1 Coversation and Contradiction 2 July 20 1969
1 A simple conclusion brings us back to the beginning.Internalized reflection ridicules our mirrored accusations.
Disturbed with regret, transparent resentment.
What's better off left unsaid, hides in a sigh outside our selves.
Difficult acceptance these shadows of seclusion, impressions reward a tear of solitude.
There's nothing to be done, disappointed with the secret neither of us need to keep.
Not the one who gave up, not the one who destroyed the dream.
Because it's so, confuse the silence, silence is being poured from cup to cup.
A Simple conversation leaves us guessing at the lessons of the heart.
Do these after-thoughts resist the angry.
Remember what happened to yesterdays' promise?
To believe in something you must to trust someone.
It's time to realize, everyday we're the same people we are.
Reason the chance to compromise, forgive, and understand.
A sense, at eye level it's easier to ignore then to look away.
Playing a game of one rule contradictions, fairness my love, fairness, let go, break free.
--------------------------
2
We're the first to see the earth from the moon.
From above we can see the world in its proper context.
Now we know how the planet suffers and how its inhabitants response.
Reach across the limitations lifting each other out of uncertainty.
Globally we can embrace the similarities through out humanity.
And understand how extremism reaps only destruction.
We are the keepers the seas, are we the masters of the atmosphere?
We become as one with the fields, turning hard clay into productive soil.
The world works better when it works together.
The earth moves closer as dignity breaks the chains.
The globe is nature, as are the dreams of sentient creatures.
The planet yields its nourishment fulfilling the intent of the seed and seasons'.
clown patrol
clown patrol
shooting bullets in the air
well aware
there's no one there
it's just to scare
you
and if they say
you are too scared
they really think
you're not scared enough
to do anything.
dropping water
onto steam
looks like another
dead clown dream
wearing carboard fire trucks
around their wastes
it's nothing
you can taste;
anyone feel
like expendable guinea pigs
yet?
to the clowns
you are
and always have been.
clowns lie
until they believe
it themselves
now it is only
you
left to convince
have confidence
be reassured
the clowns
paint another face
and prop another
dictator into place;
the effects of the fear
are equal to the rays
no fly zones
and bare bones
there's another set of
clown faces waiting
to sell you
free energy
just keep on
with the party
there's nothing left to
see here.
busses packed with teary eyes
finally seeing through the lies
but there is nothing
but clowns
enough clowns to go around
it looks like
a circus of the absurd
drop a bucket here
spray a hose there
send a bomb down there
does anybody really care
no clowns here
what you talking about
clowns
when some grows a pair
enuogh to tell the truth
you might ought to stand clear
of the clowns
slowing down the nightmare
to a clowns crawl
divert attention here
put a few bombs there
does that make you feel better
there's enough clowns
to go around
now
tell another silly joke
that will make it better
sometimes
you just gotta
laugh
at the clowns
don't mind the gnarly typos
'cardboard''someone' (grows a pair) instead of 'some'
'enough'
the rest is on me
clown patrol
Nice piece, free idea. Well put. Best thing you've done in a while. The sad thing is the clowns would be even funnier if they weren't so utterly laughable to begin with. Looks like the circus is back in town. Three ringy-dingies coming to a socio-political, environmental or economic crisis near you.
Conversation is always more interesting than recitation, so speak your mind and not someone else's.
Send in the Clowns, by Steven Sondheim
Isn't it rich?Are we are a pair?
Me here at last on the ground.
You in mid-air...
Where are the clowns,
Isn't it bliss?
Don'y you approve?
One who keeps tearing around,
One who can't move.
Where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns.
Don't you love farce?
thanks Mr. Pid
Your comments mean a lot to me, always.
It was 51 weeks ago that they CT'ed two renal calculi, one XXXL,
and that and the years supply of dilaudid they provided, not only turned
me into a legal junkie, but one hell of a grouch. I kindof stopped posting
my poems when I noticed the severe grouchiness in them, no need to spread
that aruond. I guess it was the 1st week of Jan that I decided I hated the
junk worse than the pain, and the first week of March that I became 'stone free'.
Still straightening up me thoughts, but feeling groovy again. At least for me
junk=death to creativity.
Big shoutout to the fukushima workers, putting themselves within
range to try and stem the 'rad' flow.
And thanks to this community, and the poets therein, you folks were
a suorce of joy to me, whenever I checked in on this site.
Oh yeah, and thanks to the PTB, for the month of 'Dead giveaways'
in Dec., just listened to them on my phone yesterday, what a great gift!!!!
Deadheads are the greatest!
"why am I laughing, sure ain't funny' Picasso Moon
"what's that?"
"It's JUNK!"- William Burroughs
(from PBS documentary)
now back to the poetry......
perfect samsara
it's a perfect illusionwe have constructed
out of atoms and such
everybody
in their own box
with a strong lock
from which to
watch the wars
who do we bomb first
gadfly or mangosheen
who ever has the oil
we decided is key
the wars will be fought
over the 'energy'
we 'need'
a race against time
in eternity
locked in our boxes
we will have
lots of electricity
to watch it on tv
talk to each other
and download ecstasy
what else do you need
so the armies of dark
will continue to feed
on the last little fishies
and the rest of the trees
what else do you need
one spin is one day
one revolution a year
divide it up into parcels
where did I put
infinity
no room for reality
in my perfect samsara
fueled by lsd
as long as there is music
leave me to be
in this perfect illusion
what do you need?
And on a lighter note...
Goodbye Cruel World/Hello Kind World
Gonna slip into my happy feet and
slide on out the door.
It's the thirteenth Thursday of who knows when
And I don't care no more.
What job? What bills? What chores to do?
I'm leaving them behind.
My calendar's just an empty page
And that suits me just fine.
Gonna dance until the cows come home.
Gonna rage until I drop.
Then dust myself right off again
And climb right back on top.
Holes in my clothes and holes in my shoes
But there's a hole in the crowd up ahead.
That's my dance space so watch my face
Get stole right off my head.
Get somebody else to punch your clock.
I'm done with that. It ain't where it's at.
I don't care if the lawn isn't mowed.
I'm just living on the road.
~~~~~~~~~~ leads
Get somebody else to punch your clock.
I'm done with that. It ain't where it's at.
I don't care if the lawn isn't mowed.
I'm just living on the road.
Twist and twirl from show to show
Smiling and living free.
Eat what I can now and then
I'm busy just being me.
Couldn't tell you what time it is
Got no watch or keys.
But I always know when the show is on
And that's where you'll find me.
And that's where you'll find me.
Conversation is always more interesting than recitation, so speak your mind and not someone else's.
cabin fever reprise
it's cabin fever time again
the moon is shouting through my window
reflecting off the last of the snow
oh wait, here comes some more
just try and stop me
if you think
I've told this one before
I drink the koolaid
and melt outside my door
into the sanded mountain plain
what's that ungodly roar?
then a loud crash
and the sound of dragging metal
I retreat further into the trees
but there's no getting away from it
the roar the crash the dragging metal sound
after an hour or more
I creep to the road
my curiosity getting
the better of my good sense
oh it's just the ripton boys
taking out the green impala
papa gave them to work on
they jump in behind the wheel
and do it all again
rev up the engine
until it sounds like an f-15
then throw it into gear
and go for a ride
it's like a crazy sled
with no steering
and within a hundred feet
they veer off the road
and smash again
into the century old stone wall
just like the times before
with a mighty crash
they pile it atop the old stones
until it won't go any more
then they jump out
drag it off the wall
push it back to the road
laughing all the while
and do it again
it brings me back to
when I lived in the cabin
across the street
built before it was a road
so about ten feet from the tar
one night about midnight
I was sitting up
listening to the mosquitoes
and rolling a bone
when I heard a clop clop clop
thud!
pause....
clop clop clop
thud!
it took about an hour
to get close enough for me
to peek out and see
it was my very soused neighbor
from on down the road
I easked him what was up
he said "I'm going to the store
to get some more beer"
When I told him what time it was
and that the store had been closed for hours
it became apparent that he had left
many hours before;
I figured he would get there by morning anyway,
asked him if he needed anything,
he said "no", and was off.
he got back on his horse,
which took two steps, "clop, clop",
then he fell off on his head
"thud", the horse stopped
and waited for him to remount.
and on down the road he went
clop, clop, clop
thud!...pause
clop, clop, clop
thud!....pause
what a good horse!
dont need no chiba
when cabin fever rolls around
everybody laughing
oh what a sound
riding my horsie
down the mountain
into town
Don't let me be misunderstood
Bennie Benjamin/Sol Marcus/Horace Ott
Baby, do you understand me now
Sometimes I feel a little mad
But don't you know that no one alive
Can always be an angel
When things go wrong I seem to be bad
But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
Baby, sometimes I'm so carefree
With a joy that's hard to hide
And sometimes it seems that all I have do is worry
Then you're bound to see my other side
But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
If I seem edgy I want you to know
That I never mean to take it out on you
Life has it's problems and I get my share
And that's one thing I never meant to do
Because I love you
Oh, Oh baby don't you know I'm human
Have thoughts like any other one
Sometimes I find myself long regretting
Some foolish thing some little simple thing I've done
But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
Yes, I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
Yes, I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
radiating love
radiating loveon my street
peace falls like rain
upon my feet
love is shining
from the food I eat
taking care
right where I am
heart beat
what I am
has no need
to breathe
without fear
I remain awake
=[owl ram zebra collie]}<(`-=-==-
ostrich osalot - hen ren zebra collie - turky bass turtle - snail frog beaver slug - otter raindeer - yew knew - fliminco jackal - owl ram zebra collie - turkey bass turtle - ostrich osalot - feest folk fade away...*
~<(`-feest-folk-meel-mode
=[On the bal~anus bm yore lurid shhis the poop of raw~ham yore lurd shhits the poop of raw~ham yor lurid shitts ~ stool`ho train}<(`-=-==-=
house of the rising son
the sun rises slowover the fukushima-daichi
nuclear power plant
a mother reaches
for her crying baby
wondering what
to give him to eat
12-12-90
"Twas a winters night with Christmas in sitenothing but joy filling the air.
For the Cosmic Clowns were coming to our town
and they were bringing their magical lire.
I knew we were in for a treat so to speak,
but knew nothing of our fate,
But on 12/12/90 I was turning 28.
Now you would never know what you would see at a show,
It could have easily been another night
The Star hadn't crashed here in many a year
But there was a chance that it might
The first few notes after 'Jac-a-moe-fino'
The center of the universe seemed to change.
It was the good old Dead, playing Dark Star live.
with the sounds they has arranged
Those beautiful, transcedental notes that had been writen on my head
were for the first time being played before me.
God! I Love The Grateful Dead!
So thanks Boys for one of the best nights of my life.
I wish I could repay.
It won't do it justice, but I'll tell you right now,
That show Fucking blew me away"
two new stories
One afternoon I was drinking port on a porch in Portugal with a Buddha who was visiting from Budapestwhen I saw a seagull leave it's nest and fly towards the sea.
"did you see that," I asked "no" the Buddha replied what did you see?
I said I saw a gull leave its nest and fly towards the sea.
And what will happen next was anyone guess the Buddha from Budapest said
Let's play a guessing game and ask our guests' to guess what's to happen next.
All this was happening while watching a gull leave it's nest
while drinking port on a porch in Portugal with a Buddha from Budapest.
II
One night me and my friends were driving down Bond street
looking for a Bail bondsmen to post James 007 Bonds Bail.
I was drinking Asti Spumante with Austin Powers, Monty Hall and Dean Martin
in the backseat of his Aston Martin DB5.
We were looking for a pawn shop to pawn Austin Powers Martin D-28 for 28 hundred dollars.
We found a pawn shop then we found a bail bondsmen then we went to the jail
to post James Bonds bail bond.
When we got there no one knew who we where asking for, for he used a different identity
and had already escaped.
When we returned home he was all ready there shaking Martinis'
and playing a Martin DB5 that he found in a pawn store next to a bail bondsmen shop on Bond street
"I though I saw you guys" he said, " yea that was us" we said
We were driving down Bond street looking for a Bail bondsmen to post James 007 Bonds Bail.
Looking for a pawn shop so we could pawn Austin Powers, Martin D-28 for 28 hundred dollars.
So we could post a bond and pay James Bonds Bail so as to not to spend him spend the night in jail.
Drinking Asti Spumante with Austin Powers, Monty Hall and Dean Martin
in the backseat of Aston Martin DB5.
Doh!
Until the air clearsIt's no nukes for the Simpsons
On German TV
http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/simpsons-nuclear-jokes-edited-ger…
The world constructs usAs
The world constructs us
As we constitute the world
(Lather rinse repeat)
Poetry of Dark Matter
We are not photonicWe are other
Like black absent white
Not distinctly lit
Nor similar
We seem as though you are
-=[Hi~coo]}<(`-'-=-=-=
=-=[Kuntfilturdpeesh seas]}<(`-=-=--=-[Poop of rom on main schevetz]}<(`-=-==-=-[Hey Rent taco tex]}<(`-=-==-=-=
What the New Virgin Said to the Old Goat
What the New Virgin Said to the Old Goat —for Henry Miller
Don't get me started on how your writing
(like lightning electrified Ben Franklin)
lit my once extinguished wick, igniting
long strings of sensations, then life sank in.
No, don't let me tell how your purple prose
(banned for decency's sake in fifty states)
ripped my sense and resurrected a rose,
which was propagated in Tropic's straits.
And please don't fret me about hustling dough
(not true grift, just soft fleece to foot a bill)
as if only one of us came to know
the poverty of the verb to fulfill.
Now each day I live as art to master
what once had been a fucking disaster.
=[calurid-grin&valupStoolHoTrain}<(`-=
=-=[`/`/HY HIT TIZ JOY US CHILL IN HELD EARZ}<(`-=-=-=[DEE FEET US MASSA BAY IT LA TERD}-=-=-==-=-=....this is for the tea~partay on the reefer guitar star wheel AXIS varios strata..~~~800 or so dancing girls on segwayz rigged with foam paint shakers up front and a butt shaker exersize belts and able to flip over with corn~shitz fountain of corn spraying out..banging their heads on the ground for the /\/\cameltokenz toupee phone ` fire at the open gentle, them useing 'T'shape turdz to pry feetus slathering spinning swastikr turdz hitting golf , tennis ,ping pong ,etc.spot on for the /\/\enu~shitwhattsikkzz (chain of fast food~Feest Folk Meel Mode) ,/\/\. in front of the huge buttox shaped hill behiend the Hippo zepher ,guitar shape reef looking up at the /\/\ ^ ..calm honest merkin burg~toy /\/\nteapython`esk etc... candle light vid~ [Feest~Folk~Meel Mode}<(`- '
Ty Cobb eats corn on the cob like a slob.
Ty Cobb eats corn on the cob like a slob.Named in the Hall of Fame as the greatest outfielder, an all American leader.
It was the bottom of ninth, the score tied.
When a towering pop fly, soared into the sky.
In sight in step Ty went to catch the ball when something went terribly wrong.
What's that smell the drunks in the bleachers yelled.
Where'd it come from, was it you, it wasn't me they argued angrily.
It curled their noses most unpleasantly.
Ty Cobb dropped a pop fly who on earth could answer why?
The winning run crossed the plate was it an error in judgement, played out his fate.
When the equpiment manager had to wash his pants.
That's when the rumor started, thats how the truth came to past.
Ty Cobb dropped the ball, because he farted corn.
They say it sounded like a bull horn.
Did you poop in your pants? the reporter asked.
"I just misplayed the ball, you can't blame me at all"
Desolation Row
Lyrics By: Bob DylanMusic By: Bob Dylan
They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor's filled with sailors
The circus is in town
In walks the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row
Now Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in walks Romeo, he's moaning
"You belong to me I believe"
And someone says, "You're in the wrong place, my friend (note 1)
You better leave"
And the only sound that you can hear
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row
Now Ophelia, she's neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her gaze is fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spend her time peeking in
On Desolation Row
Einstein disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row
Now the moon is almost hidden (note 2)
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortune telling lady
Has already taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row
Doctor Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
And all his sexless patients
They're all trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have mercy on his soul"
They all play on the penny whistle
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
On Desolation Row
Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
In the perfect image of a priest
They're spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get out of here if you don't know"
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row
Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
They go and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
They take them to the facory
Where the heart attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Make sure nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row
Praise be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
Everybody's shouting
"Which side are you on?"
And Ezra Pound and T.S.Eliot
They're fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen throw flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And no one has to think too much
About Desolation Row
Yes I received your letter yesterday
About the time the doorknob broke
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mentioned
Yes I know them they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read so good
Don't send me no more letters, no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row
Played by Bob Weir with the Grateful Dead from the mid-1980s, as well as with Ratdog and Weir/Wasserman.
(1) this line is as Weir sings it (and as on the 'official' Dylan lyrics). But I recently heard Chris Smither do a great (if truncated) version where he sang "... you're in the wrong play my friend" which is a great variant.
(2) Bob Weir misses out this verse on the version on "Postcards Of The Hanging." He includes it on the version on "Downhill From Here" - but note that in the original Dylan version it's the third verse not the fifth. Thanks to Tim Cahalane for clearing this up for me.
Searching for answers,Of
Searching for answers,
Of how we lost our way,
Forgot how to play,
You open a door,
And at the end of the hall,
There stands a ten foot wall.
As you approach,
You become blinded for a few,
Your nostrils become filled with the scent of dew,
When you listen for an all unforgettable tune,
You flash back to old days,
Filled with wondrous haze,
With loved ones and praise,
You awake on the shores of that black muddy river,
And realize,
He’s come to take his children home.
Back To Zero
Rolling Stones
Back to zero
So you wanna blow us all to pieces
Go meet your maker, head hung down
And give him all your explanations
Go ahead, throw down
Back to zero, back to nothing
Straight to meltdown, back to zero
That's where we're heading
It's a monkey living on my back
I can feel my spine begin to crack
I'm looking to the future
I keep on glancing back
I prefer to rot
I don't want to pop
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/r/rolling_stones/back_to_zero.html ]
I think I'll head back to the jungle, alright
Don't want to see no big bad rumble, too fright
Back to zero, that's where we're going
Back to nothing, right now, right now
No heroes? No more heroes
Back to meltdown
That's where I'm going, back to zero
My whole life is hanging on a thread
I'm the fly inside the spider's web
I'm looking to the future
I keep on glancing back
I prefer to rot
I don't want to pop
I worry about my great grandchildren
Living ten miles beneath the ground
I worry about their whole existence
The whole damn thing's in doubt
Back to zero, that's where we're going
Back to nothing, that's where we're heading
Straight to meltdown, that's where we're going
Back to zero, right now, right now
We're going nowhere
Right now, right now
Back to zero, that's where we're heading
Back to zero
Dead Flowers
Rolling Stones
Well, when you're sitting there
In your silk upholstered chair
Talking to some rich folks that you know
Well I hope you won't see me
In my ragged company
You know I could never be alone
Take me down little Susie, take me down
I know you think you're the Queen of the Underground
And you can send me dead flowers every morning
Send me dead flower by the mail
Send me dead flowers to my wedding
And I won't forget to put roses on your grave
Well, you're sitting back
In your rose pink Cadillac
Making bets on Kentucky Derby Day
I'll be in my basement room
With a needle and a spoon
And another girl can take my pain away
Take me down little Susie, take me down
I know you think you're the Queen of the Underground
And you can send me dead flowers every morning
Send me dead flower by the mail
Send me dead flowers to my wedding
And I won't forget to put roses on your grave
Take me down little Susie, take me down
I know you think you're the Queen of the Underground
And you can send me dead flowers every morning
Send me dead flower by the US mail
Say it with dead flowers at my wedding
And I won't forget to put roses on your grave
No I won't forget to put roses on your grave
Last Great American Whale
By: Lou Reed
They say he didn't have an enemy
his was a greatness to behold
He was the last surviving progeny
the last one on this side of the world
He measured a half mile from tip to tail
silver and black with powerful fins
They say he could split a mountain in two
that's how we got the Grand Canyon
Last great American whale
last great American whale
Last great American whale
last great American whale
Some say they saw him at the Great Lakes
some say they saw him off of Florida
My mother said she saw him in Chinatown
but you can't always trust your mother
Off the Carolinas the sun shines brightly in the day
the lighthouse glows ghostly there at night
The chief of a local tribe had killed a racist mayor's son
and he'd been on death row since 1958
The mayor's kid was a rowdy pig
spit on Indians and lots worse
The old chief buried a hatchet in his head
life compared to death for him seemed worse
The tribal brothers gathered in the lighthouse to sing
and tried to conjure up a storm or rain
The harbor parted, the great whale sprang full up
and caused a hugh tidal wave
The wave crushed the jail and freed the chief
the tribe let out a roar
The whites were drowned, the browns and reds set free
but sadly one thing more
Some local yokel member of the NRA
kept a bazooka in his living room
And thinking he had the chief in his sight
blew the whale's brains out with a lead harpoon
Last great American whale
last great American whale
Last great American whale
last great American whale
Well Americans don't care for much of anything
land and water the least
And animal life is low on the totem pole
with human life not worth more than infected yeast
Americans don't care too much for beauty
they'll shit in a river, dump battery acid in a stream
They'll watch dead rats wash up on the beach
and complain if they can't swim
They say things are done for the majority
don't believe half of what you see and none of what you hear
It's like what my painter friend Donald said to me
"Stick a fork in their ass and turn them over, they're done"
Send "Last Great American Whale" Ringtone to your Cell
Everybody Talkin' 'Bout Nothing
Talking heads on TVProfessors in Ivory Towers
Deadheads going to Furthur
Prisoners hanging with gangs
Junior High students snortin' heroin
Narcissistic social media fanatics
Politicians (less than nothing)
Ban Kyi Moon & the whole UN
Gangsters on Federal Hill
People wasting time playing video
With a few exceptions
It's quite depressing
a truly twisted species
slicing and dicing their own planet
Then creating better weapons
To defend or keep the spoils
Amidst overflowing paranoia.
A cruel heart won't share
But hires some soldiers
to guard the parapet
That is always over-run
And in between they talk about nothing
Za-zen, Mahamudra, Dzog-chen
Sitting comfortably,Look quietly at mind and other,
in 20 minute segments.
A last piece of incense ash falls.
Gangsters on Federal Hill
Why does that image evoke fond memories for me?
Serious Hai-ku
On the open seatwo freighters approach
passing almost silently
Two sailors wave
no dsl, 3g might be allright
Like a distant drumThe sound of rolling thunder
Spring is here at last
Don't Look Now
Creedendence
Who will take the coal from the mine?
Who will take the salt from the Earth?
Who will take a leaf and grow it to a tree?
Don't look now, it ain't you or me.
Who will work the field with his hands?
Who will put his back to the plough?
Who'll take the mountain and give it to the sea?
Don't look now, it ain't you or me.
Don't look now, someone's done your starving
Some one's done your praying, too.
Who will make the shoes for your feet?
Who ill make the clothes that you wear?
Who'll take the promise that you don't have to keep?
Chorus
Who'll take the coals from the mines.
.
Weather Report, not so Sweet
Just last eveningSun at our backs
Rain on our heads
Black, black clouds in the east
No wind, an eerie calm
Despite the
Drum, drum, drum
Of rain on the roof
Our eyes on the black horizon,
Then back to the screen
With its swirling blues and yellows and reds
The weather woman waves her hands
Over the swirls
Warning those in harm’s way
Conjuring, talking, talking, talking
Talking the storm away
Mojo working this day
No funnels kissed the earth
Safe
Glad you made it GDean
It was very scary there for a while, especially if you were in a lethal trianlgle. Even the plane going cross-country for me this week-end wouldn't turn the seat-belt signs off after Chicago.... anyway, glad your family is safe and sound.
A poem my wonderful wife Julee wrote this week
In the absence of an Answer
we wait for the truth
We move toward new moments
reaching for the unknown
Then within the realms of what we see...
and of that which we hope to envision
There is strength
Do we look for what was lost -
amidst the throngs of people?
Humanity reaches toward promise
hands together...
as hearts and minds continue the journey
Together, never truly alone...the answer will arrive
send me Dead flowers
The writing on the wallWill be the only proof
That I was never here at all