By Tom H. Brooks 3
I`LL GET PLENTY OF REST WHEN I`M DEAD…………………SO, UNTIL THEN, NO REST FOR THE WICKED……………
The SUN KING
The above photo is Dave Polston, another legendary character at the heart of the Yucca Estates 3-ring circus…
“…the Spirit has its homeland, which is the realm of the meaning of things.”
“The Wisdom of the Sands”
“If you gaze long into the abyss,
the abyss gazes also into you.”
WORK CUTS IN ON
MY CREATIVE TIME
“If a man could pass through Paradise in a dream, and have a blue flower presented to him
as a pledge that his soul had really been there, and if he found that blue flower in his hand
when he awoke–Aye, and what then?”
“All rising to a great place is by a winding stair.”
Sir Francis Bacon
“And when we passengers are given two hours,
When once more the wheels fail at Somewhere–Nowhere,
To climb out, stretch our legs and pick wild flowers–
Suppose that this time I elect to stay there?”
“The woods are lovely
dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
and miles to go before I sleep…”
“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
This time I`m skateboarding from LONG BEACH, around the harbor through Wilmington
to San Pedro and then OVER the Peninsula and all the way north back to Venice and
Santa Monica. This will be a true marathon….if I can pull it off, I will have ridden around
50 fucking miles….HA!!
About 6:45am, skateboarding down Harry Bridges Road through the warehouses of Wilmington,
I saw a huge, gray dog. It looked like a puffy wolf, his fur was blowing in the gentle wind. He
was staring at me as he sat amongst a patch of tall green weeds and grass. There were no
humans in sight and he had no collar. It was desolation. He just watched me quietly so I said
hello and moved on….
A great mental photo…..
…a leaning and broken sign in the decrepit industrial wastelands of Wilmington
with a refinery as a backdrop on a gray and misty morning;
This is about as far from a Hawaiian feeling as it is possible to get!
a falcon at the park on Gaffey Street as I drink a beer for breakfast
and smoke my dessert. I can hear the white background noise of
the 110 Freeway but he calls to me in that high-pitched falcon scream…
he`s staring at me…what do you want, bird? Man, I am fucking stoned….
Hey, there`s pot seeds on this bus bench!
“Everything in Its Right Place”
I stand now listening to “The Last Temptation of Christ” soundtrack on my headphones
on a high cliff above the gray sea. The wind blows across the land. It looks as if I am
poised for a beautiful swan dive that I would never take….I`m having WAY too much fun…
Sunken City Magic
13 Pelicans in a V-formation flying south
8 Pelicans in a V flying north
brings joy to my heart
and a smile to my face
space just invaded by 10 Mexican teenagers
not perfect anymore
time to go….
I JUST DON`T HAVE
TIME FOR THIS WHOLE
As I see all these tourist folks and their cute kids
hand-feeding squirrels under a giant tree at Point
Fermin park, I have a feeling that none of them
know that most (94%) of these squirrels in the LA
area are infested with the fleas and ticks that carry
the Black Death, also known as BUBONIC PLAGUE.
They are basically just rats with cute, fluffy tails…
Walking amidst grassy hills with old WW2 bunkers with
giant steel doors, some of them welded shut, others open.
They were afraid the Japs were gonna come here after
Pearl Harbor so they were prepared but it never happened.
They are spooky inside, like an old tomb from “Lord of the
Rings.” But they are also a great place to smoke a bowl.
So I do.
I see black smoke billowing up in a great cloud from an
industrial fire over in Long Beach….
Alright, I got a L O N G ride ahead of me so I`m not
writing anymore about it. You`ve heard the story
before anyway. Indeed. This WILL be my distance
record on a skateboard …….50 MILES. Try it sometime.
6:30pm Santa Monica
My legs hurt.
OH WELL, it is worth the pain.
YUP, it`s true, guv`nor…..
“Nothing ever begins. There is no first moment;
no single word or place from which this or any
other story begins. The threads can always be
traced back to some earlier tale, and to the tales
that preceded that; though as the narrator`s voice
recedes, the connections will seem to grow more
tenuous, for each age will want the tale told as if
it were of its own making.”
This is the SECOND goddamned time my laundry
has been stolen from that fucking laundromat across
the street on Yucca. Fuck! I grilled the Mexican
attendant; that guy is useless. I told him he should
pay a little more attention watching the obviously
homeless scumbags that come in and just open a
washer and take the wet stuff out and walk out with
it. I`ve seen it before and I put a stop to it. I dropped
the ball on this one and I`m never leaving my stuff
alone in that dump again. When I walked outside,
I saw some of the local crack fiends, sitting around
drinking malt liquor and guffawing and I yelled at a
group of `em, “I KNOW one of you fucks grabbed
my stuff! I`m never giving you change again! And
if I see you wearing one of my shirts I`M GONNA
CHOKE YOU WITH IT….!”
I will soon be re-entering the land of Narnia. I just
got back those old books which, unbeknownst to me
have been at my old friend, Bruce`s house in Redondo
since I was 17 years old. He was my first roommate
when I moved away from home. I am going to read
all seven of them, one by one, and then I`m gonna
drop them in the book drop at the Hollywood library
on Ivar. A gift to my city……
Some guy named Bi Ping Tai was just arrested in Chinatown
with 15 TONS of illegal fireworks!! He had 11,000 varieties.
It was on the fucking news, man! I hope that wasn`t MY
boy, who called himself “TOM”. He did have an awful lot
of stuff upstairs in his storeroom in Chinatown. It`s not
for sure him; after all, there are A LOT of Chinamen in Chinatown….
if it is him, maybe that is a sign….perhaps Polston and I
should hang it up after these last couple years of chaos….
you know, get out while the gettin`s good. After we lit
off that “DISRUPTOR” last time and it sounded like bombs
going off in the middle of Yucca, sixteen times in a row, and four
firetrucks and two police cars showed up, maybe we better cut loose
while we can. After all, everyone knows it`s us. We didn’t
even SEE all the cops and firemen, we ran. We heard about
it later. Let`s face it….eventually all things come to an end….
Oh and what about the 4th of July last year when the whole
street was lit up with EVERYONE going crazy and shooting
rockets at each other? That was maniacal……
Oh yeah, I was just remembering the time Dave and I lit
off a “Saturn Missile Battery” with 100 rocket shots UNDER
the Hollywood Freeway tunnel up in the Hollywood Dell. THAT
was FUCKING spectacular! And it made an awful lot of
goddamned noise. I can`t believe we got away with that one!
Little streaks of light and bangs ricocheting all over in the tunnel.
All the neighbors were coming out of their houses (of course!)
and they all saw us…..yeah, it`s time to stop…..STICK IT AND MOVE!!
24 hours later, after my stuff was stolen from the laundromat, I found
my sleeping bag sitting on the counter in there, mysteriously reappeared.
Strange, the way things sometimes come back. I didn`t want it anymore
though, who knows if some dirtbag slept in it or used it to wipe his ass.
Whenever I say, “my memory is shot,” it means I don`t WANT to talk
about a certain something because it bores me. I remember everything.
Even drunk and stoned, my mind is like a steel trap….what was I saying….?
“Do not go gentle
into that good night–
against the dying of the light…”
“Everyone loves a conspiracy.”
It wasn`t my Chinaman, but he knew the guy and it was one of his suppliers
so there is gonna be a shortage of fireworks but he can still hook me up
if I want…..Having a smoke with him in Chinatown at sunset time….
Summer solstice at Olvera Street…..
Later, with some cute older ladies at Traxx Bar in Union Station and talking to some guy
named Larry with Blake. Stories and bloody marys…the madness truly never ends….
ended up dead drunk, fell asleep on train, woke up with a start back at Vine in Hollywood….
“Blood is the rose
of mysterious union;
what did you die for?
nothing at all…”
“YOU`RE ALL WORTHLESS AND WEAK…!
NOW DROP AND GIVE ME 20……”
“I`LL TELL YOU THIS;
NO ETERNAL REWARD
WILL FORGIVE US NOW
FOR WASTING THE DAWN.“
Look up David Alvaro Siqueiros, AMERICA TROPICALE.
Then you will know the treasure that lies beneath a whitewashed
wall above Olvera Steet in Downtown LA. There is talk of them
refurbishing that baby and bringing it back into the public eye….
I hope so…..
I just love seeing the weird tourists that come from all over America
to see Bob Barker and be on “The Price is Right.”
Today it was a couple in bright yellow fluorescent shirts that said
“Bob, we`ve come 1283 miles south just to `come on down!` “
There are ALWAYS these people lingering around Farmer`s Market
because CBS studios is right next door…
6/22 waiting tables at that nightmare egg-house called Marmalade Cafe…
Some of these nasty old fuckers should be shot, just to put `em out of their
misery….seriously, just PUT TO SLEEP like an old sick dog….
IF I`M THAT GRUMPY AND FUSSY WHEN I REACH THAT AGE,
YOU CAN PUT ME TO SLEEP; I WON`T EVEN GET MAD AT YA…
“I`ve found that if you HAVE a goal, you might not reach it,
but if YOU DON`T HAVE A GOAL, then you are NEVER disappointed–
and I gotta tell ya, it feels PHENOMENAL.”
Urban safari 6/23/04
Heading down Main Street to 25th Street to see Blake`s new place.
Through the wastelands of Vernon on 25th. His place is in a little artistic
community between Santa Fe and Alameda…nice, but in the middle of nowhere.
I like it though…
“Every morning I awake and feel an immense joy–the joy of being Salvador Dali–
and I say to myself, `what will the great Dali accomplish today?` “
6/24 Runyon Canyon, listening to Burning Spear, “Man in the Hills”…….
“maybe we should live up in the hills…”
Here comes my bluebird, Roy. I give him some Funyuns and he is happy….
I just saw a baby woodpecker just pecking away on a tiny sapling…
Everytime I give this crazy bluebird a Funyun, he just flies off somewhere and hides it.
Then he comes back for more. I am picturing a BIG stash of Funyuns and Cheddar
and Sour Cream Ruffles hidden high somewhere in the branches of a eucalyptus tree…
It`s a jungle out there…
Everything is always changing…
“We are each of us angels with one wing. We can only fly embracing each other….”
Mom and I cleaned out the old storage space today in San Pedro. Lots of good old stuff…
Rooftop evening, misty with a half-moon….
“and when the night is cloudy
there is still a light that shines on me
shine until tomorrow
Let it be….
I wake up to the sound of music…”
of a moon
in a lonely sky
The darkness is all around me
but I find
a light at the center
The mist parts for me
the moon is revealed
secrets are spoken
past, present and future
become one and the same
in a mystical union
and the stars out there
beyond the smog
sing their siren song
to the uncaring night
some of us
and we seek to know you
A moment of silence
I stare at the moon
as she cries for us all…
I smell a skunk around Yucca….
how do the little buggers survive
here in the heart of the city?!
I just passed off Maya Angelou`s Inaugural poem for Bill Clinton, “On the Pulse of Morning,”
to a sweet black West Indies woman on the bus. She was reading it and very happy to have
it. I told her to keep it and pass it on. Spread the love, baby….
I can never forget the way Crazy Bateman and Crazy Tom (me) have learned to adjust to each other`s
eccentricities in this tiny apartment. We are absolutely opposite types of people and yet, no matter what
I may have written about him, in the end, I love the bastard. He is a dummy but a lovable one and in his
own way, quite clever at rare times. Sometimes I used to get some coke from F. and we would just sit
around chopping lines and drinking beer for hours, talking and arguing about anything and everything. When
the shit ran out, he would just go to bed(I don`t know how!) and I would go down the hall to Blake and Dave`s
apartment and get into a whole second round of trouble. Like I always say, the madness never stops at Yucca Estates….
“Condoms are made of latex, same thing as house paint. I just keep a gallon of Weatherbeater by my bed, so when
things get hot with the ladies, I just dip this puppy in there and I`m good to go. I got about 3 years with this kind of
Some Comedian (name forgotten)
“WOMAN BEARS BABY GORILLA AFTER
STRANGE EXPERIENCE IN THE JUNGLE”
“SUICIDAL TWIN KILLS BROTHER BY MISTAKE”
“KETCHUP TRUCK HITS HAMBURGER STAND”
Important Philosophical Questions studied at Harvard University:
“DOES THE POPE SHIT IN THE WOODS?”
“IS IT OKAY TO YELL `MOVIE!` IN A CROWDED FIREHOUSE?”
“For seven years I have dwelt in the loose palace of exile,
playing strange games with the girls of the island.
Now I have come again
to the land of the fair and the strong and the wise.
Brothers and sisters of the pale forest,
O children of night,
who among you will run with the hunt?
Now, night arrives with her purple legion.
Retire now to your tents and to your dreams.
Tomorrow we enter the town of my birth.
I want to be ready…”
“The snapshot is not as simple a statement as some may believe.
It represents something that each of us has seen–more as human
beings than photographers–and wants to keep as a memento, a
special thing encountered. The little icons that return from the
photo finisher provide recollections of events, people and places;
they stir memories and create fantasies. Through the billions of
snapshots made every year, a visual history of our times is recorded
in enormous detail.”
“To want to change the condition of affairs seemed futile to me;
nothing would be altered, I was convinced, except by a change
of heart, and who could change the hearts of men?”
“I am alone among rickety substances,
the rain falls upon me and it seems like me,
like me with its madness,
alone in the dead world,
rejected as it falls,
and without persistent shape.”
Last words when one dies should be…..
“The last enemy that shall be destroyed is Death…”
“One who is not aware of his metaphysics is the
equivalent of an ass bearing a load of books.”
“Marco had just returned from India by a voyage
over strange seas and had much to report of his travels.”
Hollywood rooftop…..hallucinatory & surreal designs in the clouds….
I watch a scorpion transform into a Taurus bull`s head in wispy
whirls glowing in the moonlight as I listen to the Stones, “Shine a Light.”
“…some while back one night I dreamed that I was motoring along a country road with my
inspirational Greek muse. She occupied the driver`s seat while I sat in the passenger`s
place with a second, student`s wheel. I could not help but notice that she was driving,
serenely, with a clean, white blindfold over her eyes, while her hands barely touched the
steering wheel. And as she drove she whispered notions, concepts, ideas, immense truths,
fabulous lies, which I hastened to jot down. A time finally came, however, when curious,
I reached over and nabbed the edge of her blindfold to peer beneath. Her eyes, like the
eyes of an ancient statue, were rounded with pure white marble. Sightless, they stared at
the road ahead, which caused me, in panic, to seize MY wheel and almost run us off the
road. `No, no,` she whispered. `Trust me. I know the way.`
`But I don`t,` I cried.
`You don`t need to know. It`s alright,` she said. `Use all gently. Close your eyes. Now,
quietly, reach out.`
I did. She did.
`There…see?` she whispered. `We`re almost there.`
We arrived. And all the tales in this book were finished and done.”
Afterword to “Driving Blind”
“Suddenly I came awake. For a time I laid there without thought, suspended in a vacancy.
There was no meaning to anything; I didn`t even remember having dreamed.”
“If He Hollers, Let Him Go”
“But if any man be ignorant, let him be ignorant.”
Ebonics Bible translation:
“If he ignant, then da mothafucka be ignant.”
“Los Angeles: a sunlit mortuary where you can rot without feeling it.”
I think smell is the most cerebral, the most vivid of the senses, the most
likely one to evoke colorful memories and nostalgia….
“Wherein THERE IS LIFE, I have given THE GREEN HERB.”
SMOKE IT, MON….
“And the name of the second river is Gihon(Zion): the same is it that
comepasseth the whole land of Ethiopia.”
The reggae song “Rivers of Babylon” is Psalms 137…..DID YOU KNOW THAT?
THE BIBLE IS A VERY STRANGE AND INTERESTING BOOK.
“Let all things be done decently and in order.”
IN YOUR FACE MUSLIM FANATICS AND JESUS FREAKS!!!
Left an old Bible that was in storage( personally autographed by God himself)
on Hollywood Boulevard for some wayward soul, who surely needs it more than I…
I just use it for quotes. Nobody`s up there listening to you, me or anybody……God Bless….
WIND ME UP
AND WATCH ME GO
“Parece que busco algo; pero no busco nada.”
“It may look as if I am seeking something; but I am seeking nothing.”
In other words, NO THANK YOU….
thinking back on my life; despite the obvious fact that fear is often involved,
I DO LOVE A GOOD ADRENALINE RUSH………………………………………
THE HOLLYWOOD DREAM FACTORY
“Here comes the Sun King…
“Abbey Road” 1969
IT`S ALL TRUE
6/30/04 9pm in the Savon Parking Lot…
I`d SWEAR I just saw Darth Fucking Vader on a skateboard….!
“I say, fly away home to Zion,
fly away home…
one bright morning
when my work is done
I will fly away home…”
Bob Marley (traditional)
land of billboards
“The Grammar of Life
The past is imperfect
the present is tense
the future is malign–
lay down and eat roses.”
one can of beer (6…and a belt of scotch)
a day at the ballgame
a color TV
a lawn to mow
a power saw
a work bench
a joke about sex
a child to scream at
a door to lock
a neighbor to hate
a bank to visit
4 pairs of shoes
a light suit
a dark suit
a deck of cards
memories of sports glory
a tape recorder
a Xmas eve
a thanksgiving dinner
a chicken dinner
a Sunday drive
the right to vote
one day of mourning
climbed the mountain in Hollywood with the neon cross on top, just clambered and struggled
up that bitch, step by step with the scree and sand and loose rocks and I scraped the shit
out of my hands and legs and I touched that cross with my own two bleeding hands and that
blood is now on this page…..
While I climbed, I listened to Burning Spear, “Give Me What is Mine”…
Now, I`m skateboarding through the Hollywood Dell listening to Spear, “Jordan River”….surely,
climbing a goddamned mountain and then a full speed downhill run, all before 9am is enough
to sweat out a hangover…….
Yup, it worked…
“Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost.”
Jesus of Nazareth
the Gospel of John
“Patriotism; the last refuge of a scoundrel…”
Some Johnson (Samuel, Lyndon? I don`t fuckin` know….)
“While this America settles into the mold of its vulgarity,
heavily thickening to empire and protest,
Only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out,
and the mass hardens…
I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit,
the fruit rots to make earth…
but for my children, I would have them keep their distance
from the thickening center; corruption, never has been compulsory,
when the cities lie at the monster`s feet, there are left the mountains.
And boys, be in nothing so moderate as love of man,
a clever servant, insufferable master.
There is a trap that catches noblest spirits, that caught, they say,
God when he walked on earth….”
“We`re all for diversity–
as long as it means
everyone thinks like us.”
L.A. Weekly article
July 1, 2004
“We have crossed our Rubicon and there is no going back.”
let evil consume itself
“So if we wish to die well,
we must learn how to live well;
Hoping for a peaceful death,
we must cultivate peace in
our mind, and in our way of life.”
LOST IN THE BLUE
I had a dream that I was a giant and noble bull, monstrous even. I was in a bullring–
oblong and roundish, no escape, no exits. This stupid, little, skinny man in gold-sequinned
tights and a black velvet frock coat was waving a red cloth and a shiny, silver saber that
looked to me, breakable. He threatened me. I responded accordingly. There were clowns
running around in the shadows at the edges of the ring. Everyone was hiding from me as
I walked around snorting with my horns in the air. They were sneaky but I had nowhere
to hide, nowhere to go. They started throwing things at me, I charged the skinny man
in the tights and clipped him. They speared me in the side and they stabbed me again
and again. Everyone in the crowd was cheering and laughing. I felt confused and very
sad. I started to lose my strength. I was weakening and limping and coughing up blood.
I had always been proud but I had nothing….NOTHING left to give. The malevolent crowd
continued to cheer. My heart was broken. I had faith in nothing. Still, I ran the best that
I could. Finally, my spirit too, was broken. I fell, gasping for air, sick, dying….in an instant,
SLICE! My head was gone, in the dust, my body meters away, a second left, only a fragment
in time. I looked up at the blue sky in pain and ecstasy and supreme fury and cried, “WHY?!?”
The clouds drifted there with no reply. The crowds screamed. I was lost in the blue…
THB3 7/1/04 6:20pm
WHEN THE MUSE SPEAKS,
“There is no place on earth where death cannot find us—even if we constantly twist our heads
about in all directions as in a dubious and suspect land…as if there were any way of sheltering
from death`s blows, I am not the man to recoil from it…but it is madness to think that you can
Men come and go and they trot and they dance, and never a word about death. All well and good.
Yet when death does come–to them, their wives, their children, their friends–catching them
unawares and unprepared, then what storms of passion overwhelm them, what cries, what fury,
To begin depriving death of its greatest advantage over us, let us adopt a way clean contrary to
that common one; let us deprive death of its strangeness, let us frequent it, let us get used to
it; let us have nothing more often in mind than death….
We do not know where death awaits us: so let us wait for it everywhere.
To practice death is to practice freedom. A man who has learned how to die has unlearned
how to be a slave.“
Michel de Montaigne
“Know all things to be like this:
A mirage, a cloud castle,
a dream, an apparition,
but with qualities that can be seen.
Know all things to be like this:
As the moon in a bright sky,
in some clear lake reflected,
though to that lake,
the moon has never moved.
Know all things to be like this:
As an echo that derives from music,
yet in that echo,
there is no melody.
Know all things to be like this:
As a magician makes illusions,
of horses, oxen, carts,
and other things,
nothing is as it appears.”
“What are we to gain from going to the moon
if we are not able to cross the abyss that
separates us from ourselves?”
“When we come to the end of our lives,
we will wish we had written something about our internal experiences
to let the world know we were alive on this planet; and we DID have
something to share. No doubt, if a life is worth living, it is certainly
worth recording. When we leave this world, we will realize it was not
WHAT we were but WHO we were that really matters.”
Dennis R. Sanchez
“A long time ago, I said I write because it is the only way I am willing
to survive. Mainly, though, I write because I WANT TO.”
“An ocean of print undulated endlessly and darkly before him. The city burned.
The herded crowd rioted. The earth circled away, and knowing that he did so,
he turned his lost face to the empty sky and became dreamless, unalive, perfect.”
“Horizontally wakeful amid universal widths, practicing laughter and mirth, satire,
the end of all. Rome and yes, of Babylon, clenched teeth, remembrance, much
warmth volcanic, the streets of Paris, the plains of Jericho, much gliding as a
reptile in abstraction, a gallery of watercolors, the sea and the fish with eyes,
symphony, a table in the corner of the Eiffel Tower, jazz at the opera house,
alarm clock and the tap-dancing of doom, conversation with a tree, the river
Nile, the roar of Dostoyevsky, and the dark sun.
This earth, the face of the one who lived, the form without the weight, weeping
upon snow, white music, the magnified flower twice the size of a universe,
black clouds, the caged panther, staring, deathless space, a wordless rhyme
of early meaning. Finlandia, mathematics highly polished and slick as a green
onion to the teeth, Jerusalem, the path to paradox. The deep song of man, the
sly whisper of someone unseen but vaguely known, hurricane in the cornfield,
a game of chess, hush the Queen, the King, black Titanic, Mr. Chaplin weeping,
Stalin, Hitler, a multitude of Jews, tomorrow is Monday, no dancing in the streets,
O swift moment of life: it is ended. again, the earth is now.”
“The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze”
This year, I had a piece of paper from a flying firework hit me in the eye.
That can`t be good….
Saw a GIANT white bird or even a bat flying around in the smoky mist
after the fireworks last night…
the days of wine and roses are no more…
Mom is moving to Hawaii….our last meal for now on the mainland at the
Rock Bottom Brewery in Long Beach…
last song we heard before she left was Bob Marley`s “Three Little Birds”
“Every little thing`s gonna be alright…”
“Losing my passport was the least of my worries;
losing a notebook was a catastrophe.”
Mom called me from the Big Island of Hawaii….
flys over Yucca roof
low into Cahuenga Pass
and I salute them
with a 40oz of Bud
and am greeted with waves…
“There is a great fear of natural things in Australia. But no one
mentions the drunks, who are everywhere and a great deal more
“The Happy Isles of Oceania”
“Pretty soon I will be gone and afterwards when people say,
`he IS his stories,` this statement will be true.”
“By the hair of Zeus`s beard!
Knights of Columbus!
Great Odin`s Raven!”
“We tell ourselves stories
in order to live.”
“The White Album”
“Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further!”
This should be posted over the doorway at the entrance to Yucca Estates….
“What is history but a fable agreed upon?”
Humanity: uneasy symbiosis
we NEED the tension in order to have something to talk about…
Someone is playing trumpet somewhere in Runyon Canyon, quite well I might add….
“…looking through the big black tulips
to see how the other half lives….
looking through a glass onion….”
“I look at the world
and I notice it`s turning
while my guitar gently weeps,
for every mistake
we must surely be learning
while my guitar gently weeps…”
“I`d like to be
under the sea
in an Octopus`s Garden
in the shade…”
I just saw a cute little white-haired granny type inquiring about a machete of all things
at the “Supply Sergeant” Army/Navy Surplus Store on Hollywood Blvd. It seemed
so incongruous, you know, the old grandma and a goddamned machete, so I said,
“…going out in the bush?” and she replied, “…it`s just to keep the guys away…”.
Cute….but I think she`s gonna kill someone….
Who am I to talk?!? I`m still buying throwing knives….!
“The Place of Dead Roads”
“THE DESERT (A PARABLE)
A man walked out of his home and into the desert with absolutely no intention of
ever returning. This was a path designated by fate. This was a journey of serious
intensity and furious focus, purpose….meaning. Everything was meant to be as
it was. This man….tall, lanky, sad & soulful blue eyes, a smile pasted upon his
leathery and tanned, lined face as if it were a clown`s mask–a witty humor underlined
by a deep, immeasurable melancholy. Every story has its song, every song has
its melody, its lyrics.
The desert–vast, empty, merciless, unyielding–but, no matter; onward he walked,
through the brown, the gray, the low ribbed hills and the sad desolate valleys, on
and on, he trudged, like a pilgrim in search of an impossible promised land. The
sun beat down without rest or pity, the vultures circled above as he walked the
dead land…..salt, but no water, flat, empty, surrounded by blue, distant mountains….
dust….death….bones….white vacuum….no water….an endless thirst, he fell;
or did he? He never could tell when he actually collapsed or if he was dreamwalking.
The line was hopelessly blurred.
The mountains never got any closer.
Blue in green in black…..day, night, it didn’t matter anymore….
Sadness; the heart is a closed flower.
We humans, we wander dark hallways and sunlit vistas and still……STILL,
no lessons learned, nothing new, nothing said, nothing done—forget it…….
falling, arising, crawling, tu
his progress was pathetic at best, but his effort…….well, THAT was another story.
He walked on and on and on across the endless desert…..relentlessly,
further and further into the dry, yet bleeding desert heart of his very own soul…….
THERE IS NOTHING LIKE THE RAW
EXHILARATION OF PURE CREATIVITY
TRUE IS FALSE
FALSE IS TRUE
I KNOW ME BUT
DO YOU KNOW YOU?
IN OUR TANGLED LIVES
THERE ARE NO MORE
FRONTIERS TO CONQUER
OUR MINDS ARE THE
THAT WILL DEFINE
THE PAST IS A GIFT
THAT KEEPS ON GIVING
THE FUTURE IS A QUESTION
THAT KEEPS ON EVOLVING
THERE IS CERTAINLY NO SANE ENDING
TO THIS PARTICULAR LINE OF INQUIRY
THIS RIVER COULD POSSIBLY END
IN A VAST STINKING SWAMP
I THINK I WILL GO UPRIVER
TO THE SOURCE;
THE CRYSTALLINE WATERFALL
THE DAZZLING UNBLEMISHED
WHITENESS OF FRESHLY
LIFE IS AN ENDLESS
AN ABSTRACT CANVAS,
A TAPESTRY WOVEN
INTO THE LIFE FORCE ITSELF,
A MOSAIC OF MANY-COLORED TILES…
FROM THE BEGINNING OF TIME,
SPANNING ALL THE WAY
TO THE LAST DAYS OF MAN,
WHATEVER THEY MAY BE;
LET IT BE SAID….
NOW AND FOREVERMORE
MOUNTAIN UPON MOUNTAIN
BUT STILL I FIGHT THE CURRENT….
I GO UPRIVER….
LOOKING FOR THAT GOLDEN SHORE
FROM WHICH ALL LIFE SPRINGS,
THEN, THERE WILL BE NO
NEED FOR WORDS….
IT WILL SAY EVERYTHING…..
finished in Hollywood, CA on 7/12/04