Labor Day Weekend
Saturday morning and the Indigo Girls singing "I don't want to talk about it..." Like me of late, avoiding everything including the blog cause I don't want to talk about anything that makes me think (feel). I hear the siren call of my therapist Madeline. Music the first step back to the living.
Kids with BFI who showed up to get them in a wide striped suit jacket that looked like it was stolen off a dead clown.
Lc has moved out of his NYC apt and is on an extended road trip to I'm not sure where. LC, hope you've got a laptop now and can check in. PLEASE do not move out of the tri-state area. Christmas won't be Christmas without you at Jr's for Christmans Eve celebrating under (or next to) the white wire Christmas tree.
Weehawken this PM for a BBQ and early birthday cake. Taking the train this time, I am not up for the hell that is the Lincoln Tunnel back from Jersey on Sunday.
Reading On the Road yesterday at lunch, and got to the part where Sal and Dean are driving through the tunnel into NYC from Paterson and Dean has a shirt wrapped around his head for warmth. He says something to the effect of, "We look like two arabs ready to blow up New York." Psychic Kerouac?
Galileo
Galileo's head was on the block
the crime was looking up for truth
and as the bombshells of my daily fears explode
I try to trace them to my youth
And then you had to bring up reincarnation
over a couple of beers the other night
and now I'm serving time for mistakes
made by another in another lifetime
How long till my soul gets it right
can any human being ever reach that kind of light
I call on the resting soul of galileo
king of night vision, king of insight
And then I think about my fear of motion
which I never could explain
some other fool across the ocean years ago
must have crashed his little airplane
How long till my soul gets it right
can any human being ever reach that kind of light
I call on the resting soul of galileo
king of night vision, king of insight
I'm not making a joke, you know me
I take everything so seriously
if we wait for the time till all souls get it right
then at least I know there'll be no nuclear annihilation
in my lifetime I'm still not right
I offer thanks to those before me
that's all I've got to say
'cause maybe you squandered big bucks in your lifetime
now I have to pay
but then again it feels like some sort of inspiration
to let the next life off the hook
but she'll say "look what I had to overcome from my last life
I think I'll write a book"
How long till my soul gets it right
can any human being ever reach the highest light
except for Galileo God rest his soul
(except for the resting soul of Galileo)
king of night vision, king of insight
How long
(till my soul gets it right)
[til we reach the highest light]
how long
(till my soul gets it right)
[til we reach the highest light]
how long
Indigo Girls(Words by Emily Saliers)
Saturday morning and the Indigo Girls singing "I don't want to talk about it..." Like me of late, avoiding everything including the blog cause I don't want to talk about anything that makes me think (feel). I hear the siren call of my therapist Madeline. Music the first step back to the living.
Kids with BFI who showed up to get them in a wide striped suit jacket that looked like it was stolen off a dead clown.
Lc has moved out of his NYC apt and is on an extended road trip to I'm not sure where. LC, hope you've got a laptop now and can check in. PLEASE do not move out of the tri-state area. Christmas won't be Christmas without you at Jr's for Christmans Eve celebrating under (or next to) the white wire Christmas tree.
Weehawken this PM for a BBQ and early birthday cake. Taking the train this time, I am not up for the hell that is the Lincoln Tunnel back from Jersey on Sunday.
Reading On the Road yesterday at lunch, and got to the part where Sal and Dean are driving through the tunnel into NYC from Paterson and Dean has a shirt wrapped around his head for warmth. He says something to the effect of, "We look like two arabs ready to blow up New York." Psychic Kerouac?
Galileo
Galileo's head was on the block
the crime was looking up for truth
and as the bombshells of my daily fears explode
I try to trace them to my youth
And then you had to bring up reincarnation
over a couple of beers the other night
and now I'm serving time for mistakes
made by another in another lifetime
How long till my soul gets it right
can any human being ever reach that kind of light
I call on the resting soul of galileo
king of night vision, king of insight
And then I think about my fear of motion
which I never could explain
some other fool across the ocean years ago
must have crashed his little airplane
How long till my soul gets it right
can any human being ever reach that kind of light
I call on the resting soul of galileo
king of night vision, king of insight
I'm not making a joke, you know me
I take everything so seriously
if we wait for the time till all souls get it right
then at least I know there'll be no nuclear annihilation
in my lifetime I'm still not right
I offer thanks to those before me
that's all I've got to say
'cause maybe you squandered big bucks in your lifetime
now I have to pay
but then again it feels like some sort of inspiration
to let the next life off the hook
but she'll say "look what I had to overcome from my last life
I think I'll write a book"
How long till my soul gets it right
can any human being ever reach the highest light
except for Galileo God rest his soul
(except for the resting soul of Galileo)
king of night vision, king of insight
How long
(till my soul gets it right)
[til we reach the highest light]
how long
(till my soul gets it right)
[til we reach the highest light]
how long
Indigo Girls(Words by Emily Saliers)
posted by MJ at 9:37 AM
2 Comments:
Kerouac yea Kerouac
His words the words so many words just
All brothers of the same horn sisters the saxophone
Notes music words a melody a quote
a figure eight a figure
If you listen close to the drummer
It's like a mirror and your invisible
Like your in a back seat
No handles on the doors just a beautiful driver up front
She knows where she's going
Kerouac the observation machine
Caressing the most passing of
[ Find more Lyrics at www.mp3lyrics.org/9czs ]
scenes with photographic love
Passionate photographic love
venerable as anyone knew
His memories pull shades up and down
Doors are not done telegrams arrive
Every morning something extra ???
Remembering everything like a snatch of melody
A drumbeat remembering mythologizing
So fast all the time moving
The words the words are drumsticks
pounding out drum beats
Like a monk like a monk melody
With mistakes yea mistakes and sudden inspirations
Edges corners explosions convections
All fast through a slow motion landscape
Yea fast through a slow motion landscape
--morphine, kerouac
Here I am again, defending myself. It is NOT a white wire tree, it is a wire tree with vintage green crystals you witch! If you are not careful you might end up with onions in your Christmas stocking this year!!!
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