Guthrie As Hendrix On Puccini

In a recent dream I am watching a black-and-white documentary about Jimi Hendrix.

In one scene he is playing a keyboard which features some sort of pitch modulator that can at a touch of a button transform the note of any key he presses into a flat 7th, a flat 3rd, etcetera.

In a later scene, Hendrix and two bandmates are standing beside one another in front of some immense oak trees. There is a close-up of a bandmate who says “I think Jimi’s greatest strength is his skill as an actor.” The camera pans to Hendrix, who now looks like a cross between Experience drummer Mitch Mitchell and Woody Guthrie. “An actor!” he laughs. “That’s funny—an actor!”

This is followed by a montage of this Mitchell/Guthrie/Hendrix’s performance antics. From these glimpses, he certainly evinces a showman’s charisma—one shot shows him standing before a group of rapt children, wielding a violin as if it were a parade leader’s baton, a gleaming look of a conjurer on his grinning face.

Later, this same version of Hendrix is shown in a tight close-up, looking at his interviewer unblinkingly, saying “Of all the classical composers I’ve heard, Puccini is the only one who strikes me as truly crazy.”

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Come On Down

Got a glimpse of a notion
Flashing through this town
Something’s set into motion
Word is getting around

Could it be there’s a scene busting out?

Come on down!
Come on down and spread it around
Come on down!
The shell is broken—we broke it open
Come on come on down!

Once a secret is spoken

It’s hard to quiet it down
Once it’s out in the open
It’s hard to turn it around

We can see that their scheme’s breaking down

Come on down!
Come on down—it’s tumbling down
Come on down!
We know it’s broken—we broke it open
Come on come on down!

Another flash in the shadows

Another lonely place
Another clash in the battle
Another glimpse of grace

There’s a circle that spins round and round

Come on down!
Ride the rise before it turns down
Come on down!
A holy roller—before it’s over
Come on come on down!



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9 Haiku

Big white moon above 
the slumbering warehouses—
waiting for the sun

A day so foggy

all you can see are yellow
trucks, cars, and signs

Some seagulls squawking

and ragged whisky laughter—
city park at dusk

*

He stands and he shouts,

perched on a telephone pole—
exquisite raven

Perfume precedes them—

two jeweled ladies stride along
the subway platform

The moon grins at me

from its soft blue perch tonight—
biking home from work

*

I’m clenching my teeth

too hard when I pet the cat—
savage affection

The last bit of sun

sinking into the ocean—
a quick glint of...green!

She strolls the sidewalk,
umbrella blocking the sun—
the first day of spring



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Holy Moment

Found a face 
In this place
A glimpse a glint a sudden little trace

A certain flash

A glow that lasts
A holy moment I can almost grasp

Throw it open, holy moment

Your boy has found his joy
And I know I’m getting down
One more time

Through all the noise
I heard a voice

It whispered Mister you have got a choice

You can brood

In gloom and doom
Or use your blues to bend another groove

Throw it open, holy moment

Love is like a light
And I know it’s glowing now
One more time

(Don’t think I can tell you something

New I know you know
We can be as good as what we know)

This glow can show

The way to go
Catch your breath forget what kept you broke

It is clear

That while we’re here
We ride the tide until we disappear

Throw it open, holy moment

While we slip and slide
You know we’re getting down
One more time



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Flashes 14

What you  
don’t love
is unsustainable

Obsessed with hungers
that can’t be
satisfied

The greed

that makes you
a liar

*

Possessed

by the opinions
of a space alien

A place where men

don’t name buildings
after themselves

Terrified

by a face
in the sky

*

Whisky: solace

that isn’t
solace

Don’t violate
your own
inviolability

When your mind is
blank you know
no fear



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No Reason To Cry

Recently I dreamed that I was in the bathroom of my home, preparing for the day, when suddenly I was struck by a sadness. In my mind I saw some faces of friends and familiar folk, and in these faces I also recognized a sadness. This sadness showed not so much in the expressions on these faces—it was more like an aura that came through them. Nor was the sadness of these individuals something specific and separate to each one—it was something shared, and yet unnamable, something without a certain source which was nevertheless certain. It felt essential.

Being filled with this sadness, I felt an impulse to cry. But this impulse was tinged with doubt. Then I heard within me what I once heard a radio evangelist describe as a "strong small voice," which told me not to cry. Crying would be an indulgence that would not relieve the situation, but would rather weaken me, and make me less able to assist others in bearing this sadness.

This made sense to me, and I decided not to cry.



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You Say You Found A Way

You say that you found a way
Do you know if it’s sane?
How can you say that you found your way
When you don’t know if it’s sane?

I've roamed like a hungry ghost

Who can’t see what he’s shown
I've roamed like a hungry ghost
Who won’t seen what he’s shown

Will we wander with souls so hopeful

That this time we’ll arrive
Somewhere better that we only
Just missed when we went blind
Staring into the sky?

I’ve seen such visions in my dreams

Are they as deep as they seem?
I’ve seen such visions in my dreams
Can they be what they seem?

(Down in dusky places

Seldom ever seen
A face becomes a trumpet and then
Screams)

It’s no use just to drown in your blues
If you do, you lose
If you choose just to drown in your blues
You lose what you knew

Will we wander with souls so hopeful

That this time we’ll arrive
Somewhere better that we only
Just missed when we went blind
Staring into the sky?

You say that you found a way...

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