Misfit power
David against the giant empire
the rebellion of the sons against the father
is an old, old story
(Norman Brown.)
mayhem in the colonies
Mutiny on the bounties
The mouse that roars
The elephant that buckles
The shot that is slung
The ogre sinks to his knees
And vanishes into the ground
The copter crashes into the jungle
The death star blown to kingdom come
The empire falters, the imperial army stumbles
The weak overwhelm the strong
A ring bearer brazenly walks into the land of Darkness
A boy with a porridge bowl dares ask for more
Nobility hides in orphans clothes
True wealth lies in a pauper’s robes.
Upstart Martin
Bookworm monk
Nails his beef on the
Papal door.
Stories of Washington
& rag tag armies, misfit crews
Slipping out in the dead of night
Into a divine mist or fog
By the invisible hand of God
Pivotal moments at the birth of epochs
Pitchfork armies, militias
& the speakeasy ways of Thomas Paine
w/ common sense words, & a pamphlet
spelling out quite clearly that the King
he wears no crown.
Elegant words from a dubious lord
Slave-owner, lawyer, visionary, boar.
& it seemed for a spell, Dixie might win the war.
Triumph of the weak over the ways of the World
Is an old, old story, as history has bore.
Ironies are bound as the tables often turn
In this sordid tale, this Morality Play
Or as they say in the East, even the demigods will stumble
As they fall over their own reflection.
You can rise too high, soar too far
& for that you will be humbled.
No sooner do you set sail for America
That your ship runs into ice & is lost in its own legend & lore
Little consolation to the souls mired in the depths of the dark Atlantic
Or for the survivors as they drag themselves to shore.
This is an old, old story
The Story of America
The underdog that sings.
A tortured song for true Americans then
That are torn by dark musings.
Just as an Empire’s battleships
Sailed for our precious American shores
We now find our sailors and sons faraway
Trying to settle some score
Trying to teach the world to sing
In the tumult of a third world war.
How far from America, have we sailed from thee,
This city on a hill no more?
Monday, February 19, 2007
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Love Her Like The Rain
She's like a cloud floating across the sky
Fall in love with her
And you will never ever die
And I love her, love her like the rain
And I love her, love her like the rain
She's like a dream, floating downstream
Floating away, up into the sky
And I love her, love her like the rain
And I love her, love her like the rain
Forest princess Queen of the living earth
She's the light, she's the air, and trees
She's the love, the love we breathe
She's the thunder; she's the rain
And you need her, or you go insane
And I love her, love her like the rain
And I love her, love her like the rain
And I love her, love her like the rain
And I love her, love her like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Friday, February 16, 2007
Of War & Peace
Somehow I wandered out of Los Angeles.
I was born in 63.
The year that they killed Kennedy.
3 years later we were in a war
& still don’t know what we were fighting for.
Somehow I wondered as I wandered into the Doors, post Van Halen & the usual ego driven high school trips AWOL & scribbling notebooks like Harriet the Spy. Somehow I drifted into Austin for the turn of the century unrealized Y2K mayhem but the real maelstrom was a year and ½ away on 9/11.
Forty years since the summer of love. And here we are.
I hear that a lot is on the line in Iraq, but tell me wasn’t there a lot of talk like that about Vietnam. Best as I can tell, we lost that war, and there was a great deal at stake with that War, domino theory and all. Kind of makes you wonder what would have happened had we won! I happen to believe that if a war is a just war, then the right side will win. Look at three pivotal wars in recent history: the American Revolution, the Civil War, and World War II. Can it not be argued that a great good arose from these?
In the evolution of man, it seems that despite the worst inclinations of some of us, our civilization slowly yields to the good. Having learned the importance of innate human rights, the white man was forced to concede that personal liberty was the providence of the black man as well. And both black and white man then were cornered into having to admit that these rights, such as the right to vote, extended to women as well. Hitler was grossly delusional in his wanton and evil disregard for the Jewish people’s right to their very lives. Having realized that white-borne communicable diseases and territorial avarice lead to the widespread eradication of Native American populations, Americans now let the Indians exploit and sap those Americans gullible enough to gamble in their casinos of their life savings.
It was the dictates of conscience, and conclusions of men committed to scriptural ideas found in all major religions that slowly yielded these advances in mankind’s civility. It was not the triumph of one ideology over another, but the triumph of goodness and decency, mercy, forgiveness, and an openness to rise above the petty and fleeting circumstances of our temporal mortal lives. Sometimes in asserting our rights then, and in the course of securing those rights for others, wars are fought. Lives are lost but its specious to use these just causes to morally justify every military action undertaken arbitrarily by any one country.
History is full of interesting tales of how the tables are always turning. Just because the United States has been involved and on the winning side in just causes does not mean it has carte blanch to wage war whenever and where it sees. The American Revolution was fought against the Imperial British, but who joined us in Iraq but the British, and who was maligned in the process, but France, an indispensable ally against the British in our fight for independence.
The choice to use bloodshed is regrettable and hopefully avoidable. Also it is hopeful, and perhaps, imperative that the cause be a just cause. Southern states buried millions of American men who went to their deaths defending their right to keep humans in perpetual human bondage. Think about that.
It can be argued that Jesus could have fought off his tormentors, could have used to violence or guile to avoid his fate, but instead accepted his fate stoically, preferring to wage a much more important fight on a spiritual battlefield. The point lost on most folks is his remark that the rest of humanity isn’t off the hook; that they must too take up their cross if they are to be worthy of him.
So what’s the point then? Would pacifism have won World War II or freed the slaves? On the other hand, the fall of Saigon did not lead to rapid rise of Communism throughout the world. Maybe short victories were won, but the proof will always be in the pudding. Change can be slow and painful. History is littered with the casualties of this process. It’s an ongoing dialectic with the pendulum always swinging between war and peace. Always carrying that big stick, it’s important to remember speaking softly, is probably even more important.
Jesus lost the immediate battle in that he lost his mortal life, but he gained spiritual life, and the fruits of his sacrifice can still be measured. So it’s important to remember that sometimes in losing we still win. As he said, he who loses his life save it, and he that seeks to save his life will lose it. It’s a matter of knowing of how to lose, and how to win, gracefully, and for the right reason.
Our current generation will have plenty of battles to fight, but I fear that the current war mongering and hate mongering in the name of 9/11, only detracts us from the real battles we must fight in the future.
Onward through the fog …
I was born in 63.
The year that they killed Kennedy.
3 years later we were in a war
& still don’t know what we were fighting for.
Somehow I wondered as I wandered into the Doors, post Van Halen & the usual ego driven high school trips AWOL & scribbling notebooks like Harriet the Spy. Somehow I drifted into Austin for the turn of the century unrealized Y2K mayhem but the real maelstrom was a year and ½ away on 9/11.
Forty years since the summer of love. And here we are.
I hear that a lot is on the line in Iraq, but tell me wasn’t there a lot of talk like that about Vietnam. Best as I can tell, we lost that war, and there was a great deal at stake with that War, domino theory and all. Kind of makes you wonder what would have happened had we won! I happen to believe that if a war is a just war, then the right side will win. Look at three pivotal wars in recent history: the American Revolution, the Civil War, and World War II. Can it not be argued that a great good arose from these?
In the evolution of man, it seems that despite the worst inclinations of some of us, our civilization slowly yields to the good. Having learned the importance of innate human rights, the white man was forced to concede that personal liberty was the providence of the black man as well. And both black and white man then were cornered into having to admit that these rights, such as the right to vote, extended to women as well. Hitler was grossly delusional in his wanton and evil disregard for the Jewish people’s right to their very lives. Having realized that white-borne communicable diseases and territorial avarice lead to the widespread eradication of Native American populations, Americans now let the Indians exploit and sap those Americans gullible enough to gamble in their casinos of their life savings.
It was the dictates of conscience, and conclusions of men committed to scriptural ideas found in all major religions that slowly yielded these advances in mankind’s civility. It was not the triumph of one ideology over another, but the triumph of goodness and decency, mercy, forgiveness, and an openness to rise above the petty and fleeting circumstances of our temporal mortal lives. Sometimes in asserting our rights then, and in the course of securing those rights for others, wars are fought. Lives are lost but its specious to use these just causes to morally justify every military action undertaken arbitrarily by any one country.
History is full of interesting tales of how the tables are always turning. Just because the United States has been involved and on the winning side in just causes does not mean it has carte blanch to wage war whenever and where it sees. The American Revolution was fought against the Imperial British, but who joined us in Iraq but the British, and who was maligned in the process, but France, an indispensable ally against the British in our fight for independence.
The choice to use bloodshed is regrettable and hopefully avoidable. Also it is hopeful, and perhaps, imperative that the cause be a just cause. Southern states buried millions of American men who went to their deaths defending their right to keep humans in perpetual human bondage. Think about that.
It can be argued that Jesus could have fought off his tormentors, could have used to violence or guile to avoid his fate, but instead accepted his fate stoically, preferring to wage a much more important fight on a spiritual battlefield. The point lost on most folks is his remark that the rest of humanity isn’t off the hook; that they must too take up their cross if they are to be worthy of him.
So what’s the point then? Would pacifism have won World War II or freed the slaves? On the other hand, the fall of Saigon did not lead to rapid rise of Communism throughout the world. Maybe short victories were won, but the proof will always be in the pudding. Change can be slow and painful. History is littered with the casualties of this process. It’s an ongoing dialectic with the pendulum always swinging between war and peace. Always carrying that big stick, it’s important to remember speaking softly, is probably even more important.
Jesus lost the immediate battle in that he lost his mortal life, but he gained spiritual life, and the fruits of his sacrifice can still be measured. So it’s important to remember that sometimes in losing we still win. As he said, he who loses his life save it, and he that seeks to save his life will lose it. It’s a matter of knowing of how to lose, and how to win, gracefully, and for the right reason.
Our current generation will have plenty of battles to fight, but I fear that the current war mongering and hate mongering in the name of 9/11, only detracts us from the real battles we must fight in the future.
Onward through the fog …
Monday, February 05, 2007
Road Prayers
Rolling down the 210 en route to the Sierras
Stirs quaint & not so dear memories on this open road
Friends faraway & friends fallen into the long soft night
Where Weisman roams, in the hills overlooking Glendale
Further farther still, Sylmar beckons just beyond the blood soaked streets
Where Rodney King grimaced, twitched beneath the batons of L.A.'s finest.
Skalestky's brood up against the mountain, ragged crags of rock & stone
I remember these days & nights of music fond memories still
farther up we roll past the cemetery where sweet Carlos he lies
beneath the San Fernando sky
these are the days I say my road prayers
w/ Roky Erikson calling forth a memory of Jefe
& me & Dharma, ol Richard yes, dancing in the Broom's lair
To "Don't Slander Me."
I say my Road Prayers to Robert, yes,
The Zimmerman. He blares out my IPOD, all pirated sounds
I think what fascinating & awesome days to come of age
To think these are my songs, just for me, these wanton blissful tunes.
My songs, the song of love, the troubadour he loves to sing
Loves to make the critics wince, the naysayers cry, while the poets still dare to dream
this song they sing.
Like a child they say
Seek first the kingdom, yes I do
I believe in You.
Belief is a beauty thing.
Kerr promised a miracle, & the ghost in You
knows how to ring
The Bells inside the Mission's scene.
like a mission in the rain
the ghosts they still find time to complain
to ridicule and throw flames & scream
terminal adults, these cantankerous creatures think they possess the keys
like Valley People who rise up & ream
The Peaceful Children of the Hills, who seem
So happy, blissful with a golden treasure eyes have never seen.
let those who have ears now hear
let's make this argument loud & clear
there can be no sanctuary for those who have not learned the fine art of
forgiving
all that they see
& all that they hear
in the heat of the violent night
& upon the birth of a bright new day
comes a smooth silk saviour
who knows all the tricks &
rules this game from someplace deep inside
the forest beneath the torrential rain.
road prayers
for my friends, who play
in the shadows
or in the light of the coming day.
Stirs quaint & not so dear memories on this open road
Friends faraway & friends fallen into the long soft night
Where Weisman roams, in the hills overlooking Glendale
Further farther still, Sylmar beckons just beyond the blood soaked streets
Where Rodney King grimaced, twitched beneath the batons of L.A.'s finest.
Skalestky's brood up against the mountain, ragged crags of rock & stone
I remember these days & nights of music fond memories still
farther up we roll past the cemetery where sweet Carlos he lies
beneath the San Fernando sky
these are the days I say my road prayers
w/ Roky Erikson calling forth a memory of Jefe
& me & Dharma, ol Richard yes, dancing in the Broom's lair
To "Don't Slander Me."
I say my Road Prayers to Robert, yes,
The Zimmerman. He blares out my IPOD, all pirated sounds
I think what fascinating & awesome days to come of age
To think these are my songs, just for me, these wanton blissful tunes.
My songs, the song of love, the troubadour he loves to sing
Loves to make the critics wince, the naysayers cry, while the poets still dare to dream
this song they sing.
Like a child they say
Seek first the kingdom, yes I do
I believe in You.
Belief is a beauty thing.
Kerr promised a miracle, & the ghost in You
knows how to ring
The Bells inside the Mission's scene.
like a mission in the rain
the ghosts they still find time to complain
to ridicule and throw flames & scream
terminal adults, these cantankerous creatures think they possess the keys
like Valley People who rise up & ream
The Peaceful Children of the Hills, who seem
So happy, blissful with a golden treasure eyes have never seen.
let those who have ears now hear
let's make this argument loud & clear
there can be no sanctuary for those who have not learned the fine art of
forgiving
all that they see
& all that they hear
in the heat of the violent night
& upon the birth of a bright new day
comes a smooth silk saviour
who knows all the tricks &
rules this game from someplace deep inside
the forest beneath the torrential rain.
road prayers
for my friends, who play
in the shadows
or in the light of the coming day.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Pale Moon Above the Chumash Nation
pale moon hangs dreamily
over the the Happy Valley
peers through the thin clouds
above the wet forest night
The Chumash take the white man's wagers
petty payback for pestilence past
still the land is young, & the earth still spinning
into the future, the Sovereign sing.
Billy Jack lives in the caves nearby
holds for the radical chic 60's idealism
knowing peace & love now that is all well & good
but still every once in a while
you got to kick a little ass!
over the the Happy Valley
peers through the thin clouds
above the wet forest night
The Chumash take the white man's wagers
petty payback for pestilence past
still the land is young, & the earth still spinning
into the future, the Sovereign sing.
Billy Jack lives in the caves nearby
holds for the radical chic 60's idealism
knowing peace & love now that is all well & good
but still every once in a while
you got to kick a little ass!
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