Clear Water

I will go to the river

where the water's cold and clear

I will go to the [ only ] river

where the water's cold and clear

Push a boat out on the river

and hope to float far, far from here

I will roll to the ocean

where every river ever flowed

I will roll to the ocean

where every river ever flowed

Lose my self on the ocean

and watch the stars roll down below

[[

secular gospel -- gospel without gods, or with many

human spiritual

]]

[[

Simple blues, but it can be nudged into something better, maybe. 

- Not "I'm going down" like every other blues song, but "I will go to the river" in declaration, like Yeats' "I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree".

- Not "Lose myself" but "Lose my self" like a soul returning to the great sea of souls. Harder to hear than to see, but still possible.

- Literally, take a boat to the ocean and lie back to look up at the stars from horizon to horizon. That alone is lovely to contemplate.

- Figuratively, die. Merge with the infinite. You are above (or among) the stars. 

- No god, no soul. 

]]

Orion & the Seven Sisters

[[ I think that's it. I thought about adding more. But that's enough. It's a longing song. You could sing the chorus again at the end. ]]

1.

She has lived all the seven sins 

on the seven seas

but shipwrecked herself
in the Far Ambiguities

Stranded herself between 

the one and the other,

she's married a stranger,

run off with his brother,

then walked out on him 

in the middle of a ham and cheese.

2. 

She has places to be, and men 

tend to hold a girl down

So she stands in the door after dark 

in her slippers and gown. 

She already knows 

she'll be gone before Christmas 

She just needs a night 

when there won't be a witness

Except for the stars that are rising up

over the town.

Chorus

When the cold days come

and Orion is hung 

in the sky

When the birds have flown

and no one is home

in the night

She will go with the hunter 

a sword on his belt

They will chase the seven sisters 

until time runs out

They will chase across the sky 

until time runs out

the end of amnesia

[[ This one is more poem than song, I suppose. I tried to make each line a separate image or idea that could stand on its own. For example, "a box of familiar" and "remains to remember" could be two things, perhaps two ways to describe a dead person's ashes. Words do double duty. ]]

A box of familiar

words on a shelf:

we'll be together

when ash is dust,

when smoke curls to

high rolling clouds

(how heavy are they?

let's look it up)

and clouds burst.

When stone smooths
away in the wind,
when ivy obscures,

when nobody here

remains to remember

we were, what endures

weighs as much as
a black locomotive

burning in the sun.

fearsome blues

[[ still working on this ]]

[[ parenthetical bits are backup singers in gospel choir style ]] 

[[ this stanza is the core of the song ]]

Up in a cumulonimbus

Snug in the thunderstorm

God tosses bolts of lightning

Keeping his throwing arm warm

God is the updraft (lifting, lifting)

And we are (we are, we are...)

we are the downpour

[[ the rest is the rest ]]

God is the sunlight through honey

God is the moon on the bay

God is a firefly under a leaf

God is the Milky Way

God is the seven continents

God is the seven seas

God is the multiple mouths of the Nile

God is the Pleiades

[[ now we are small scale ]]

God is your hidden diary

And your anonymous call

God is your deathbed confession

God is a voodoo doll

[[ and growing bigger  ]]

God is a grilled cheese sandwich

God is your average weird

God is an excellent climbing tree

God is a trendy beard

God is the jism of -ism

God is the grist for the -ist

God is an anthropomorphism
God cannot really exist

[[ shift gears musically and raise the pressure ]]

God is your evolution

God is your ma and pa

He is a she if you want her to be

God wears a push-up bra

[[ and now we are in the human realm, big style ]]

God is the locomotive

God is the Golden Spike

God is the Suez and Panama

God is the turnpike

God is the spinning jenny

God is a spacewalk, live

One god is one too many
God is the Saturn V

[[ step into a swamp and sing like it  ]]

God is an alligator

God is a crocodile

God knows the difference between them

God knows it's in the smile

a child of all things

See this picture?

My friend was born here

here in this place

here in the photo

of a woman who is running for her life

from a child of all things.

See this map?

They've changed the name

name of the city

name of the nation

but the killing? that never changes -

it's a thing summer brings.

|| :  It's never finished -- 

the things they did here --

they are never done. : ||

Listen at the window,

listen at the door --

voices of people

who lived here before:

our houses are stolen,

our temples are burned,

every stone in our burial

ground overturned

or  ||: stolen away, every stone, every stone : ||

But this is the book of life -

If you're in the book of life -

You're safe in the book of life.

Between you and me

we've [weave] a secret to keep

between here and there

there's a spark in the gap

we keep the secret

we talk the tongue

we still are still


[[ this one started with a picture from WWII of a Jewish woman running for her life from a mob, including a little kid. ]]

Kentucky Air

[v1]

Six days a week,

ten hours a day,

under the State of Kentucky

earning my pay.

[v2]

Half a mile under,

you're forced to crawl;

first you feel new muscles growing,

then nothing at all.

[stuff in the middle]

The deeper

I go I am

the closer

to hell I am

the closer

to hell I am

the farther

from you I am

the farther

from you

[v3]

Stand in this cage

and fall through the black.

Ride all the way to the bottom

and hope I come back.

[v4]

Some men might mind,

but I don't care

long as I know you will wait in

this Kentucky air.

[[ The first couple of stanzas are the typical coal miner's life, according to an interview with a miner. Six days a week, 10-hour shifts, hunched, different muscles, etc.

The rest is a story. He loves her and the cool air.

]]

little green men

[[ about the day aliens finally came, or foreign workers, or environmentalists ]]

We gave up beer

We gave up dope

We gave up God 

We gave up hope

We gave up cars

and parking space.

We walked, for Christ's 

sake, in disgrace.

I used to work there;

Turned a knob.

They took our factory,

job by job.

In walked Roberto

Out walked Bob

They took the factory

They took my knob

little green men

We didn't know 

what hit us

We didn't know 

a thing

We didn't see 

it coming

We didn't know 

a god damned thing

little green men

Right here in Jonestown,

In Grover's Mill,

In Roanoke, Virginia,

On Bunker Hill

Lunar Blues

[slow, relaxed, romantic]
All we have in common
is that moon pasted yellow on the sky
All we have in common
is that moon pasted yellow on the sky
Better get to what we came for
'Fore we tell that yellow moon goodbye.

Close the window to the night air
The birds will all be singing soon
Close the window to the night air
The birds will all be singing soon
And don't forget to pull the curtains
on that sneaky old man in the moon.

[a bit faster...]
Baby, watch the clock
Time runs faster than you fear
Baby, watch the clock
Time runs faster than you fear
Better check your almanac
The shortest evening of the year

[vinegar strokes instrumental]

[resolution]
I will slip out your window
and head down the road with the moon
I will slip out your window
and head down the road with the moon
but I won't forget you, honey,
or this moon in June soon...

[[ then back to the top and fade ]]

A parade of freak

[[ the people who wander home up the middle of the empty street after closing time or home after the party's over -- I see them when I'm up late at my desk facing on to the street or when they're doing the walk of shame in the morning ]]

Just when the calm

comes down,

Just when the sky

is clear,

Just when a dome

of stars rolls over

all our home...

A parade of freak [sic]

Walk down our street

Hand in hand

Foot by feet [sic]

Muscle and bone

Bone and meat 

Talking meat

Screaming meat

Walking home

When the world is done

Closing down

One by one

A parade of freak [sic]

Just when the moon

moves into view,

Just when today

leaves for the evening,

Just when the all alone

becomes all

and alone...

A parade of freak [sic]

Walk down our street

Hand in hand

Foot by feet [sic]

Muscle and bone

Bone and meat 

Talking meat

Screaming meat

Walking home

When the world is done

Closing down

One by one

A parade of freak [sic]

Here comes our darling

Walking the all alone

Finally finding home

In the plain of day

Missing the whole parade

In a gaze of "Hey,

Look what the cat dragged

Look what the cat dragged

Look what the cat dragged

Look what the cat dragged..."

A parade of freak...

drawn to water

Our pale daughter,

drawn to water,

wears her outside in.

She first spoke for us

at two, on the bus:

"I am inside my skin." 

She first noticed me

when she was three

humming a wandering tune.

"Sing me the one

with the moon and sun.

I am the sun in the moon."

she dreams

she dreams of science, dreams of progress,

dreams of wolves running over

(wolves coming for her)

wolves running over the field

(wolves coming into the fold)

she dreams of marriage, dreams of babies,

dreams of wolves running over

(wolves coming for her)

wolves running over the field

(wolves coming into the fold)

she dreams of holy orders,

withdrawal from this world,

she dreams of

god the feather,

god the sun and moon,

god the goat, she

dreams of wolves running over

(wolves coming for her)

wolves running over the field

(wolves coming into the fold)

she believes there must be meaning

in these dreams

she would pluck them each apart

at their seams

and feed them to you

and feed them to you

she would watch the birds fly

and wonder what it meant

what message they had sent

butcher house blues

Take me to the butcher house

Lay my head on the block

Take me to the butcher house

Lay my body down on the block

Off comes my head

and off comes my cock

out comes my asshole

like a lost sock.

Off comes my skin

to show my pink insides.

Just slip in the knife 

to see where the man resides.

||: Release my warm red blood - 

Begin the ancient flood :||

Stack up all the parts of me

limb by limb by limb.

Stack me back of the butcher's block

so I see me by him by him.

Take a saw to my cranium

And pop off the top 

Watch the steam from my brain

Rise thought by thought by thought

chained to the wall

we did it all

chained to the wall

talking to the clear blue day

talking of love 

through a wire strung above

our words were carried away

under water

each impossible

as the last

cloud roll over 

one million ton

one hundred mile

an hour

press me

into grass

I am too weak

to stand


[[ grammatical irregularities are intentional. ]]

mindful of you

v1:
I have watched you while you're sleeping

I have listened to you snore

I have watched you while you're sleeping

I have listened to you snore

I have crept into the kitchen

And I have closed the kitchen door

Chorus:

But I am mindful of you always

Sitting still in a chair

I am mindful of you always

Sitting still in a chair

There is tea in the tea cup.

There is steam in the air.

v2:
I have sat next to you mornings

While the bumblebee purred

I have sat next to you mornings

While the bumblebee purred

I have closed my eyes to listen

How you don't say a word

ghost you

I will

ghost you

You will

find your

self

unmoored

and set

adrift

between

the stars

I will

ghost you

you will

find you

all al-

one

between

the shores

and watch

ing stars

roll o

verhead

I will

cut you 

dead - if

ghost you

comes to 

haunt me

I will

ghost you

ghost

A spirit coiled (the mocking ghost)

[[ this one began with something real -- Diplacusis dysharmonica, Diplacusis echoica -- and turned into a spirit walking at night in my peripheral hearing and mocking me, and this became a song to be sung with chants and drums and a chorus of mocking spirits]]

[the predicament of the soul]
A spirit coiled
in the curl
of my ear

talks to me
like a lurker
in the other room

I cannot tell
above the wind
that whistles by

Is this the me
who's talking? Whose
tongue is this?

My mind or spi
rit coiled within
my inner ear?

Whose tongue is curled
in my left ear?
Come out now!

[one explanation of the soul's predicament]
They say
the mocking ghost
will walk your words
back home.

They say
the mocking ghost
will turn your tale
around.

They say
the mocking ghost
will live in your
left ear.

[chant of the mocking ghost in insect voices]
They say
the mocking ghost
They say
the mocking ghost
They say
the mocking ghost

[wonderment from within]
My mind
or flight of birds?

My mind
or branches aching?

My mind
or not my mind?

[another explanation of the soul's predicament]

They say 

the mocking ghost
will show
another you.

They say
the mocking ghost
will bend the light
round you.

They say
the mocking ghost
will live in your
left ear.

[chant of the mocking ghost in insect voices]
They say
the mocking ghost
They say
the mocking ghost
They say
the mocking ghost

trans

[[ I think of listening to music a long time ago, when we had radio stations and we had music machines built into our furniture ]]

I can smell 

the amplifier

warming up,

up from

the inside

an orange 

pouring 

out from

the inside 

the tuner 

warm and

the table

turning

I can feel

the radio

through me

lights out

lie on the carpet

the soft glow

of the radio

rest your head

in your hands

press your belly

to the floor

feel the bass of

the radio

a little ether

into the signal

the breath of Venus

a storm on the sun

the origin 

of our universe

the great machine

spins up to speed

waiting for America (start again)

Waiting for America

over the horizon

Waiting for America

to sink beneath the waves

and start again

and start again

Waiting for America

smoke over Phoenix? [[ too obvious allusion to the mythical bird? Eh. I'm keeping it.]]

Waiting for America

to burn to the ground

and start again

and start again

I can't remember 

the anthem of America

Do you remember 

the anthem of America?

It's just another 

song about another war

The war when someone burned 

the White House down

The war when someone ran

the president out of town

Escape from Washington 

burn the fucker down 

and start again

and start again

[[ An anti-anthem for America, and not a very good one. It needs lots of work. It's not supposed to be wishing things to fall apart, but just waiting for things to fall apart, because that's the way it looks like it's going. But I'll let Blogger be my backup in the meantime. ]]

moon go down

[[ it feels like infidelity or lycanthropy or both ]]

I cannot tell

where I go tonight

moon go down

moon go down

moon go down in my heart 

I cannot tell

where I go tonight

be no witness

where I go tonight

moon follow on

moon follow on

moon follow on through the wood

nobody know

nobody know

nobody know bad from good

I cannot tell
where I go tonight