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Category Archives: poets & circumstances

Pentangle, Pentangling

Charlie Mingus, Goodbye Pork Pie Hat

Frank Zappa, Willie the Pimp

Bob Dylan,  John Wesley Harding

The Faces, The Wicked messanger

Jimi Hendrix, Hey Joe

 

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No I cant find anyone to talk to me with sense

I cant find anyone to cross the bony fence

I cant find anyone to work

          the work’s immense

It’s the effort just to get here were we are with common sense

The world of joy is empty, the real world is so dense –

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Words move, music moves

Only in time ; but that which is only living

Can only die. Words, after speech, reach

Into the silence.

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I can understand the haggar eyes

Of the old

Dry wrecks

Broken by seas of which they could drink nothing

 

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BOOBUS

 

Last night Mike told me he believed the stars are alive

today we walk with the yellow haired child

eyes of the auctioneer’s furniture

fell into mirror specks

the mirror specks reflect Mike’s wife Jo Ann

the expanding universe of Foster’s on the corner

of Polk and Sutter

a four or five headed portrait of Ginsberg Corso McClure

Lamantia e Kerouac

I hope La Vigne paints it

Haselwood is washing his teeth

the yellow haired child like the light in Foster’s cafeteria

Boobus NcClure

is making all kinds of metalic sounds in the kitche

Publicity! Public spectacles!

Artaud writing against the superstitions of the text

the morning is burnt with smells of cooking and cooked stars

It’s nirvana!

It’s the last goof!

It’s pungent silk worm disease!

It’s beautiful ship of state undulating its ribs!

Mad Season, Long gone day

Screaming Trees, For celebration past

Pearl Jam, Save you

Isobel Campbell&Mark Lanegan, You won’t let me down again

Nirvana, Dumb

Patti Smith, About a boy

 

Requiem

I think

you’ll find

a coffin

not so good

Baby-O.

They strap you in

pretty tight

I hear

it’s cold

and worms and things

are there for selfish reasons

I think

you’ll want

to turn

onto your side

your hair

won’t like

to stay in place

forever

and your hands

won’t like it

crossed

like that

I think

your lips

won’t like it

by themselves

D. di Prima

Beatles , One after 909

Chob, We’re pretty quick

Jack White, Freedom at 21

Morphine, Top floor,bottom buzzer

Ani di Franco, see see see see

Sinéad O’Connor, Untold stories

Beck, Paper tiger

 

Loafing

I looked into the room a moment ago,

and this what I saw-

my chair in its place by the window,

the book turned facedown on the table.

And on the sill, the cigarette

left burning in its ashtray.

Malingerer! my uncle yelled at me

so long ago. He was right.

I’ve set aside time today,

same as every day,

for doing nothing at all.

What is life

 

What I feel, I can’t say
But my love is there for you anytime of day
But if it’s not love that you need
Then I’ll try my best to make everything succeed

Tell me, what is my life without your love
Tell me, who am I without you, by my side

What I know, I can do
If I give my love now to everyone like you
But if it’s not love that you need
Then I’ll try my best to make everything succeed

Tell me, what is my life without your love
Tell me, who am I without you, by my side
Tell me, what is my life without your love
Tell me, who am I without you, by my side

What I feel, I can’t say
But my love is there for you any time of day
But if it’s not love that you need
Then I’ll try my best to make everything succeed

Tell me, what is my life without your love
Tell me, who am I without you, by my side
Oh tell me, what is my life without your love
Tell me, who am I without you, by my side

What is my life without your love
Tell me, who am I without you, by my side

Oh tell me, what is my life without your love
Tell me who am I without you by my side

 

george young

coney island

coney island

 

 

Gill Scott-Heron, Running

Last Poets, Related to what

John Sinclair , Consequences

Lawrence Ferlinghetti with Dana Colley, I’m waiting

Ursula Rucker, Philadelphia child

The Books, It never changes to stop

 

“spiritual”

what is jazz, but spirituals

played thru saxophones

& trombones,

spirit voices

thru metal tubings

& the terrible repetition

of the formal premise, viz.

trance-like

at its best, or boring

when the spirit doth not move,

oh what is blues

but spirituals with a line

removed,

that is structurally,

& in content just a prayer

to the gods of daily life,

to ask the blessing

that the body of another

may lay warm in the bed

beside you at night, and the rent

be paid, and a meal

on the table, with the sheriff

far away

from the scene of the crime,oh

what is jazz but the registration

of the human personality

in relation to the spiritual,

stripped of literal meaning

but full of sound & portent,

direct as the voice of the gods

John Sinclair

Morphine, Take me with you

Jonathan Wilson, Her hair is growing long

Joni Mitchell, Cherokee Louise

Ani di Franco, Still my heart

Lee Ranaldo, Off the wall

Sixto Rodrigues, Can’t get away

 

 

(….)

What in this face, less clear and clearer

the pulse in the arm, less strong and stronger-

given or lent? more distant than stars and nearer than the eye

whispers and small laughter between leaves and hurrying feet

under sleep, where all the waters meet.

 

(….)

Hatfield & The North, Going up to people and thinkling

King Crimson, Ladies of the road

Gentle Giant, Nothing at all

Gong , You can’t kill me

Led Zeppelin, In my time of dying

Traffic, Who knows what tomorrow may bring

 

 

I have come to catch your voice,

Your constructed notes going out of the throat

With dry, mechanical gestures,

To catch the shaft

Although it is so straight and unbending;

Then, when I open my mouth,

The light will come in an unwavering line.

Then to catch night

Wading through her dark cave on ferocious wings.

Oh, eagle-mouthed,

I have come to pluck you,

And take away your exotic plumage,

Although your anger is not a slight thing,

Take you into my own place

Where the frost can never fall,

Nor the petals of any flower drop.