Regret Revisited

At the advice of a friend I shortened and revised an old poem into a song.  The full version is also on this blog.

Queen 'o' the Wisp

I can recall it even now

It was a Blood Red

                summer moon

I caught a light down at the banks

Though it rained steel chains

                from Peter’s Gates

Oh her light, it seemed

To beg me into embrace

Drawn, hypnotized by the Queen o the Wisp

She kept her hair pulled back in flames

Speaking in tongues with no need

                to explain

I watched her lift clear off the ground

Over that Delta blue

                with a starry crown

Oh how her light, it seemed

To pull my hand to her waist

Moving in time would be

the distance that we

                never could close

Lost to the wilds with the Queen o the Wisp

I don’t expect you to understand

After all, how could you,

                if not this man?

And I don’t speak her name no more

It’s a dark room

                with a locked door

Oh I’d be lying if I

Told you of no mistakes

But sometimes those words become

                the very thing

                we need to move on

Burnin’ alive with the Queen o the Wisp

Merry X-Mass!

…too late…

I could feel rumblings already, in the marrow of my bones,

how dreadful a cause itched my frosty red nose.

Scotch taped trappings shivered down from stained walls,

as a chorus of carols rocked sadly decked halls. 

It starts just like this, hints of peppermint & pine,

flashing red & now green,

flooding rum & mulled wine.

Bundled up joys pushed by Teflon wrapped cotton puffs,

strolling aisles of ruin down rivers of mud & slush.

Rubber souls squeak like high school gymnasiums

but no race held here, more a maniac maelstrom.

It’s “Jumpin Jehovah’s X-Massive Bonanza!

Rock-bottom prices for whatever ya git yer hands on! 

There’s the Ever Evolving Electronic Squares,

them Bright Shiny Circles come cheaper in pairs.

We got Mistletoe rugs fer kissing sum ass,

about a million Little Cheapos, come already in the trash.

Our Flashy Noise Popper’s a big seller so far

but the winner, as always,

The Johnny Jinglestep Pocket Bar!

Paper or plastic, to pay or for bags,

don’t forget gift-receipts and removing price tags.

Now, always remember, keep it fresh in your mind,

you have to stampede, YYYEEEEHHHAAAWWW!!!

or prices will rise! 

Pay no mind to:

fingers, small children, ominous strangers or emergency phones.

Check all “Communi T.V.” lists twice for new “Sanityze Zones”.

Now listen up folks, your attention please…

…no, over here…

For the first time anywhere, legalized this year,

made famous by headlines, due to popular demand…

last item homicides are encouraged,

and!

there will be a band.

All weapons will be checked…

for defects at the door.

Creative kills win points,

points discount items more.

Televised world wide, 24/7, Pay-2-View,

watch from home,  home office, or all Fallen Church pews.

Aluminum foiled Rabbet ears or true-balls HD,

black & white, color projection or LCD.

This television broadcast does not discriminate.

Oh! And a friendly reminder, the raffle drawing’s at 8!

Tickets can be found absolutely anywhere you could be.

Non-participation is unacceptable,

punishment - dealt out swiftly.

Though official state curfew extended ‘til 12,

Still not recommended: Quad 4 in New Hell.

Your friendly “Social Eyes” will be out in full force.

Fully armed, fully fueled, fully prepared for the worst…

standards

for your “Eyes” can be read on The Wall,

General Lee warns strongly to not read it all.

If you find yourself placed in a “Social Interaction”,

please lie on the ground, await further instruction.

Injury and life-loss are common complaints,

though, no need to worry, “Social Eyes” learn from mistakes.

Anything not covered, you’ll surely find out.

Best not be in the open when the shop clocks run out.

All stipulated rules are subject to change

without prior notification or attempts to explain.

Everyone is in play, no boundaries save one,

cross through the white gates, your holiday is done.

And with that, the horn screamed from all wall mounted speakers.

My rag covered smile running sideways from ether.

Spilled out to the tunnels with our GI red sacks

“Ho-Ho mother fuckers…X-Mass is back!”

Lonely River

I wrote this one at a bit of a low point.  I felt I had no one to talk to.  Like I had been forsaken, even by god.  With no one left, I wrote the song to my only friends around....words.    I begin each verse with the word I'm addressing but I feel in the end it is just a prayer.

Forever,

Seems we’ve been here all along

I know you’ve been runnin’

beside me all these years

Now I’ve fallen

and you know how hard

I can be

but it’s left me here bleedin’

set me on my knees

Forgiveness,

when are you comin’ back to me

I gave you away freely

never to return

I’ve been dancin’ with sorrow

but I know there ain’t nothin’ she can do

On the banks of this river

I’m waiting for you

Caught in the fire and rain

am I keepin’ or quenchin’ this pain

I feel so

so alone  

Always been a penitent man

God help me

understand

Am I lyin’

Show me sign

Promise,

sing me a sweet lullaby

A tale of a new day

as darkness fills my eyes

I’ve been runnin’ from shadow

and you know just how cold

he can be

But if you keep me dreamin’

I know I am free

Tomorrow,

oh you’ve been comin’ for 

too long

See we’ve been fightin’

praying for the dawn

Oh, but I’ve seen you hidin’

 behind that smile in the night

Led me to this river

set me on my knees

Take me Lonely River

Take me back to Sea.

Coffee Please

I've been workin' on the railroad, all the live long day!...I've been......huh....you know, actually...I've been working at a computer...for all of...3 hours!!???  Oh god please grant me a blessing in the form of a steam locomotive, bursting through the walls and washing over these fluorescent halls like a sea of serenity that carries the carrion far away from copied facsimiles of repeated dictations, regurgitated gesticulations, mental prostration and alliterate assholes bored full bore, singing, "blah blah blah blah, shut the front door."

Unsung Zero

So this is quite possibly the cheesiest song I've ever written...well cheesiest one I have ever completed and shared but hey, sometimes life gets cheesy.  As was proven by my carpet this weekend...don't ask...or do.  Enjoy!  Also, I promise to not post a song next time.

We're no Criminals.

This consequence don't fit the crime.

We were blind to it.

Shone so bright, only we couldn't see

the wake of our revelry.

And

so it goes.

It's the kind of thing some sing about.

Who the hell goes and lives it out?

And the story's old,

you only get so far 'til the zero's been swept out to sea

in the snares of a tragedy.  So

tell me love,

teach me of,

make me up

a world where we won't make perfect sense

somewhere I won't remember this.

You ran to me.

Held so tight

it's hard for me to believe

that isn't how it's gonna be

but given it,

these days once more

I'd play them all in a line,

stop here and hit rewind.

And

so it goes...

It's the kind of thing most dream about,

write it down so you get it out.

Oh, the story's old.
Hey, I know

when the zero has his final scene.

Shot down from the mezzanine.

So tell me love,

teach me of,

wake me up,

I'm in your arms,

still wrapped in your memory,

baby could you finish this one for me?

So it goes...

It's the kind of thing I can't think about,

for the fear that I'll let it out.

And the story's old,
you only get so far

'til the zero's made his final plea

but I know that you'll remember me.

So tell me love,

teach me of,

you're gonna have to wake me up

'cause I'm in your arms,

still wrapped in your memory

you're gonna have to finish this one for me....

Refiner's Fire

This is the silence before a bursting out of life.

Calling all around,

gather all around.

I’m watching the calm

of nothing at all,

now we burn so bright.

Leading black then white,

follows day and night

Gravitational force,

an orbital course

and a molten sea

flowing up and down,

forming shape and sound.

While in the darkness, as in light,

you’ll find every

colour

waiting.

Funny how we find ourselves alive

with only two promises,

to be here

and die.

See how merely words seem to confine?

Try to find the feeling that brought you here

tonight.

Now here is a man,

he fucks and he stands

and he tries so hard,

to watch it all fall down,

yet coming back around.

He’s checkin’ it out.

He screams and he shouts

with the stars above

he measures short and long,

weighing right and wrong.

While in the darkness, as in light,

you’ll find every-

body

waiting.

Funny how we always seem to lie

when it’s coming down to how we are here

and why.

See how merely thoughts seem to confine?

Just try to find the feeling that brought you here

tonight.

Funny how we find ourselves alive

with only two promises ,

to be here

and die.

See how merely words seem to confine?

Just try to find the feeling that brought you here

tonight.

This is the silence before we’re bursting back to light.

Chuckles & Herschey - Part 1 of X

Earl Pritchett -

“Charlie Pratt is a rat bastard sunovabitch.  You can take that any damn way ya like an’ you can tell ‘em isme that said it too!  I bet he give ya a big ol' laugh.  I betchyu’d be standin’ at the front porch, tellin’ em what it was I said an’ he start chucklin’ like a damn goon, flashin' them piss stained Chiclets a’his, all jammed up in that ass-hole he kiss ‘is momma with.  Him an’ that mouth breathin’ Herschel Maybelle carryin’ on.  Oh, I bet they’d have a real time of it too…on me!  Laughin’ ‘n’ jokin’, jawin’ back ‘n’ forth ‘bout what they done. Yeah, I’d betchya.

‘Bout all I got t’say ‘bout that is, good…real good.  Only fittin' it’d be me givin'em a smile.

Herschel…I guess Herschel ain’t got nuthin’ ta worry ‘bout.  Shit, ya can’t blame that boy anymore n’you could blame a shadow fer hangin’ ‘round.  If you don’t know ‘bout Herschey, I ain’t gonna be the one ta tell ya nuthin’ ‘cept, you want gossip, you can drag yer ass t’town an’ stay there.  I don’t spread rumors an’ I don’t wanna hear ‘em neither. You can save that mess fer them trash whores in town, Cheryl Timms and her like.


You ever wanna see a beat up ol’ catfish squawk like a chicken, ya take yerself down to Jude an’ 1st.  I bet she’s down at Carl’s right now, preachin’ dirt ta that yappy flock ‘a’ crows followin’ her around all day.  I bet she ain’t peeled her ass offa that stool since the sun come up.  Sippin’ black coffee and spewin’ out filth.  I swear, them booths is more crowded than a church pew on Sund'y.  Pastor Lewis cut his sermon down to 16 minutes now so’s he can get over an’ catch the whole town dumpin’ they garbage.  Don’t matter t’me none, he ain’t never said nuthin’ I couldn’t read maself an’ I don’t go t’town no more anyway.  Can’t even move ‘round there without an eyeball on ya.  That Timms witch is ev’rywhere, castin’ glances an’ I bet that ain’t the only thing, her an’ e’rbody gone that same way.

Ain’t nobody done a thing since that mouth an' her come t’town.  Talkin’ back ‘n’ forth, e’rbody worried ‘bout e’rbody else, ain’t nobody worried ‘bout they own stink…an' I smell ‘em all!  Hell no I don’t want hear ‘bout what Jim Cedars done last night.  What the hell Jim Cedars got to do with me? ‘Less I need some ‘shine or some roofin’ done.  She even got that snake tongue stuffed down the Sherriff’s ear, must be true ‘cause he ain’t heard shit I said yesterday.

Ev’ry night them hell fires been kickin’ on an’ all that trash gets ta smolderin’.  Timms an’ her lot start runnin’ ‘round the streets, stokin’ up fires ‘til the whole town gets swallowed up in smoke an’ soot.  Maybe Sherriff’s right, maybe I can’t see through that smog, but I ain’t dumb an’ I ain’t never seen a cloud that black ain’t gotta storm brewin’ in its belly.  ‘Sides, come sunrise, the wind sweeps the valley an’ sends that dust cloud barrelin’ up the mountain walls, straight over my doorstep an’ I can smell what they been doin’.  It’s hot ‘n’ musty an’ creeps up an’ burns yer nose like sulfur, smells like…smashed bottles an’…shame...rotted shame.  Soon’s it blows by I gotta get down t’the stream and rinse it offa me. 

Uh now, see!  Lookit there, you got that same dumb-ass look th'Sherriff was wearin' when I said the same to him.  Well, I ain't got the time or the care ta esplain maself again.  Fall’s runnin’ out an’ I ain’t runnin’ down t’the god damn stream all wint’r long.  An’ after yesterday, I ain’t livin’ through another day without makin’ it right.  If nobody’s gunna do nuthin’, then it’s gunna be me do sumthin’ ‘bout it.  So have yerself a drink an’ a smoke, soak up that sun an’ polish off that full Christian name, Chuckles. ‘Cause Charles Archibald Pratt……you gon die t'day!”

 

 
 
Charlie Pratt -
 
“Huhhuhuh huhuhuh, oww man!  Huhuhuh!  You tell that old man, Charlie Pratt says good luck and tell him I’s wonderin’ if that sow’s been keepin’ him warm at night? HahaHAAA......!



Herschel Maybelle -
 
“Charlie says he worryin’ ‘bout yer hawg Mr. Early.  Charlie says he give ya good luck!”