Sunday, January 27, 2008

In The Waiting Morning

I sat in the late day warm winter sun
Flask in hand
Back pressed against the radiant wall
of old adobe
Smoking away things never had
swallowing the truth
with rye soured by steel
and not liking it any better than the cool fresh air
Idyll, or idol, are never idle
and I’ll never be so lucky
Eyes closed and through lids overcome
with the welding-heat yellow-white of sun
making its lonely arc, ever heavenward somewhere
ahead, in the waiting morning

Saturday, January 26, 2008


It was the cake I’d planned to tell you to bake

I was gonna say, even if I’m not invited

So now that you’ve gone and done it

and I’m not invited to the party

I should be happy, shouldn’t I?

You learned on your own
what I was gonna say
And I was gonna say, even if I’m not invited

and I woulda meant, because I want to be

And I should'a listened when they said I couldnt
have my cake and eat it too

Monday, January 21, 2008

Untouchable Face

One more, before the night grows old, as I really should have retired hours ago, or at least curled up to read.
I dearly love Ani Difranco, and Untouchable Face is among my favorites. I have known, and still know, several untouchable faces. Its just the way it is sometimes, what you really feel, but dont, but do, is just... fuck you, and your untouchable face.

John Cale, Venus in Furs

So, here is a link to the John Cale video I want to embed but am not allowed to (for some probably asinine, venal, and petty reason on the part of the original poster [no, I dont tend to give others the benefit of the doubt, or ascribe positive motivations to random strangers, why do you ask?]). It's his performance of the Velvet Underground song Venus in Furs, with electric viola (which the original featured heavily as well, thanks to Cale). It is a radically different, and fairly pleasing, sound... despite the usualness of it.

John Cale - Hallelujah

I really dig being able to so easily embed stuff from YouTube in the blog, but I feel like I'm abusing it to make up for a lack of creativity a bit as well. Oh well.

I really wanted to post another John Cale video, but the sole uploader has disabled embedding on that one (damn his eyes), so this will do. Cale was a founding member of Velvet Underground, appearing on their first two albums, one of the quasi-disciples of Andy Warhol, and etc. He is also a violist, as well as a pianist and bass guitarist. I've recently become a pretty big fan after finding his album, with Lou Reed, "Songs for Drella".
Hallelujah is one of my favorite songs - It hurts, and it heals, and it leaves me pessimistic and hopeful, - and Cale's version is truly one of the best, after Leonard Cohen himself.

Johnny Cash God's Gonna Cut You Down

I'm in a musical mood tonight/this morning. Tucked away behind closed door, knowing I should sleep, trying not to disturb those who are, and thinking about recent conversations about music and artists. Cash came up in there, and I'll probably post the Hurt video later, but this is also fairly powerful, and I simply like it.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

Outside Life

I drove my dad to an opthamologist appointment at the VA today. While I waited for him to emerge from the small exam room, bespectacled with flimsy black plastic lenses to protect his dilated pupils, I sat reading a motorcycle magazine. The small waiting area filled quickly, old men with beards and long hair and baseball caps and old boonie hats with unit insignias and names of places where men strived, and died, and God comfort them, Survived. They spoke amongst themselves; "Aint no coffee in here. Shame." "Yeah it is." "How ya doin?" Hands shaken "Welcome back"... A language known, familiar, and alien. Among them, but not of them, I sat, trying to tuck myself into the iron and fire of motorcycle building, feeling the very obvious outsider in their midst.
One day, some day, and at what cost? I believe some of us are built for some things - Some burdens - And really, there is only one way to find out. A constant line of thought for me.
The other day someone thanked me, for planning to serve. My first lurch was to accept it and go on, but my instinct is to reject such thanks. I'm a gonna-be, second cousin to the wanna-be. Gonna-be's are possibly redeemable, they have the promise of salvation in action but have yet to be washed in the baptismal substances of their desired work, but they are not Been-an-done's. Thank those who have gone and not returned, thank those who have gone and returned, but dont thank those whose youthful idlewild makes them think they are cut from the same cloth. What have we done?

Later in the day, doing some shopping I found myself keeping an odd sync with a pretty woman of about forty. A very well kept forty, with a very good figure dressed in blue jeans and a sweater. A very big rock on her finger. Working it pretty hard, good swing in her walk, the gym defined ass setting the beat, the paid-in-full chest keeping time. I made eye contact, she smiled, I smiled. We did it again. I stepped in-front of her cart unintentionally, "Excuse me." "Mmmmmmmmmm-hm", long, drawn out, savored. Next time we met in an aisle she had just de-shelved a row of cereal. I helped her pick it up, earning her chagrined thanks. The falling boxes had struck her composure, the creation of her image, a blow - She looked better shaken, out of her element just a bit, uncomposed. I smiled, "You'll forgive me, but I have to say I hope that when I'm 30-something, it looks as good on me as it does on you." She smiled, faux shy, called me a liar - I was, but only about her being that young - It was exactly what she wanted to hear. One hell of a big rock on her finger. I finished my shopping.