I do not feel well. That is my problem. I am old and do not feel well and I think constantly of death. I think of life, but only as something I've done. The only thing that keeps me from stopping this tonight is my mother. I am an only child and I am why she keeps on going. She feels the need to take care of me. Funny, that. So she keeps going and I keep going, but I have less desire than she to continue on. What am I to do?
I sit outside tonight having eaten dinner after going to have a cocktail with my mother in her driveway at a safe social distance. I cooked as I played the Trump Show, then ate my half-assed leftover dinner while the media parsed it. They don't deserve an A.
Then I poured a drink and came outside to sit in the last light of the most beautiful day of the year with the cat that I had already fed watching her jump and dance like a nymph showing off for her daddy. And I drank my first. . . no, second. . . whiskey and looked at the trees filled with golden light and wished for the same renewal I see in their fresh branches and new yellow green leaves. I looked at the cat and told her we were both screwed, and then gazing up into the fading light (to fuck up the words of Joyce), my eyes filled with anguish and with anger.
There is so much here that will be lost when I am gone.
But I call upon all my old gone heroes for strength and guidance, those who have gone before. As Hemingway has said, we were glorious In Our Time. I watch a young girl roll by on her skateboard in the road and laugh. She is beautiful but you can see in her face that something is wrong.
The sun shines. The trees blossom. The air is clear and clean and beautiful. I never want to leave this. Never.
Ever.
In this life, in this life, in this life
We leave a trail that's far and wide
Good or bad, bad or good
Our memories decide
There are some places where I've been
Where you can still see the wounds
Think to myself as I look at the scars
Just who do you think you are
Innocent, innocent no more
I saw what I saw and I shut the door
Innocent, innocent no more
I knew it was wrong but I did it some more
In '78 I went through a rude spell
I knew it was fate, but I couldn't really tell
I thought that this was the way it was always gonna be
I hated everyone and everyone hated me
In '88 I went through a great spell
I knew it was fate, but I couldn't really tell
I knew that this was the way I wanted it to be
I loved everyone and everyone loved me
Every action has a reaction
Every life has a life to lead
Every human needs a fancy reason
Why they should live or breathe
I sit here feeling sorry for myself
For one thing or another
I'm trying hard to blame somebody else
For the miseries that I've discovered
I make a wish over a boiling cauldron
That I pass only strengths onto the children
And may the spirit move me to laugh and to sing
And I won't be drowned by the little things
Until the day when there are no more desires
And I put out all my little fires
There's nothing left but a wishful song
And there will be no right or wrong
Until that day, until that day, until that day
Sights and sounds they'll get to me
Life is hard. I hope this pandemic lets up. I think if you get yourself out on the road it may help a mite. Meantimes, here is another story from the holler.
ReplyDeleteOle Smiley lived in the same holler as Sammy. He was the feller with the sweet sorghum press which was just ironic as his name. Smiley was the meanest cuss you ever done met. He never had as much as half a grin on his face even drunk. He was glum, ornery, spiteful, and as soon spit at you as shake your hand. But everyone allowed that he had a right to his wicked disposition causen’ his tragic life.
Smiley was the youngest of three sons. He inherited the farm and the sorghum press after both his parents and elder brothers Silas and Cephas had died. The cause of all of there deaths was what made Smiley so sour.
You see, they were dirt poor during hard times and one day his Mama woke up and found their only cow a- lying dead in the field. Well, she despaired of bein’ able to feed the family with their only cow gone, so she hung herself from the beam of their front stoop. When his Pa woke up and went out on the front stoop and saw both his wife and the family cow dead, he took out his shotgun and blew his head off.
The oldest brother Silas was nearby and when he heard the shot came a-runnin.’ When he saw his Mama, Pa, and the family cow dead he wept hisself into a dark mood and decided to go down to Yellow River and drown hisself.
When he got to the river, there was a beautiful witch woman naked on the bank a-sunnin herself. Her luscious skin was a -glistenin’ from having just bathed in the Yellow River and she called out to Silas:
“Silas, a am a powerful witch woman, and if you make love to me five times, I will bring all your family back to life again.”
So, Silas commenced to have a go at the witch woman but he went limp after the third try and couldn’t get it up again, so she drowned him in the river.
About this time, the middle brother Cephas had just got home from gathering some stalks for the sorghum press. When he discovered that his Mama, his Pa, the family cow and his brother Silas had all died, he decided to go drown hisself in the Yellow River.
Again, when he got there, this here beautiful witch woman made another offer:
“Cephas, I am a powerful witch woman, and if you make love to me ten times, I will bring all your family back to life again.”
So, Cephas made love to that witch woman every which a way, but he got plumb tuckered out after the seventh time try and couldn’t go on. So that witch woman she drowned him in the river for failing to satisfy her.
Now Smiley has been on ‘toher side of Rocky Gap huntin’ and so he got home last. When he saw his Mama, his Pa, the family cow, Silas, and Cephas dead, he realized he was all alone in the world and was powerful miserable. He decided to go down to the Yellow River and end it all by drowning hisself.
When he got there, that seductive witch woman was still on the bank combing her long silky hair. She called out to him:
“Young man, if you make love to me ten times, I will bring your family back to life again.”
Smiley said back to her: “Ten times ain’t nothing. Make it fifteen.”
The witch woman licked her lips and said: “Fifteen? Now it will take twenty to satisfy me and save your family.”
Smiley dropped his drawers and said: “Twenty is nothing. I’ll flip you over and make it twenty-five.”
The witch woman flushed with arousal and shouted at Smiley: “Twenty-five times?!? Make it thirty and I will not only bring your family back to life but I will make you rich beyond your wildest dreams!”
Smiley was thunderstruck: “I cain’t screw you thirty times. How do I know it won’t kill you like it did the cow?”
Part 1
ReplyDeleteOk Good. A Story. To come back for. Hi c.c.
I was thinking how this is like an artists diary. I love them and have had the honor of holding and reading many. Plus the ones in museums of people who make it there. Oh.
BTW - could you make sure when they find the "all that is left behind" - there is a link to the site? I would love to be part of that shit. I've been here a long time and because of ^ that one up there.
So. I have a lot to say. I have not been "called off" here, yet - thank goodness where would I go? I'm a little afraid of Q. He's a Scorpio.
DETERMINATION: Crisis of Corona
There are causes and symptoms. It is painful it hurts. Lots of time alone or alone in ones head main contributor. All this time to fall inward and outward in different ways. Some find the experience enlightening others suffer extreme swings in mood and temperament. Listening to music, reading, looking at art, memories - can trigger at once - euphoria and the next - horror. There is no age discrimination. Zodiac signs are still being researched.
There is more but one of the easiest cures is making things - creativity - even using the doom.
My 89 year old mother (and boy do I understand doing things for Ma) is coloring. I gave her my "Secret Garden" coloring book - given to me by my son for Christmas. She makes me look at what she has done after each session. She colors roughly for an hour between 2 and 4. I took pictures of her work and sent it to my son - who texted back "Damn she's good" - which caused her to suffer a long moment of joy.
Christ there is enough "doom art" out there - from the onset of the cave paintings.... Okay.
I have been in contact with Michael Ornstein about buying art with my Trump check. Yes. I got one. Whooooo. Big business all gone allowed me slip right in with what I claimed in 2019. I'm going to send out some donations - have to look up who needs the most locally - and then buy Art. Fuck you Trump. I'm using your money for art.
We are discussing - I sent him a few of the ones I loved. I'm going to get one of the what he calls "Transparent Posters" - he is posting many more to his site today (after the trigger of me wanting one). I really want to ask him to write this:
"So then, the poet is truly a thief of fire." A.R.
on whatever I pick. We'll see how it goes. Right now he's sending me the most beautiful messages ever - with x's and o's. I don't want to tip the scales - these creatives can be triggered easily.
(I have to have a Part 2 - too many word)
ReplyDeleteI've been reading one of the truly great "enfant terribles" this morning in between making Hannah strawberry shortcake for breakfast -walking the dogs to the bog in the cold, rain/wind that cleared up enough for the robins to be singing and it was just fucking great.
And I've added to my "Time of Corona: Dead Things Photos". - bird today. Probably fallen from the nest during the big storm. But not a baby.
Where was I? Oh. So I've narrowed the work down to one of his transparent posters which - can be mounted on plexiglass (I'd like him to do that for me) and backlight. Oh what he sent me that is available and not posted on his site is just gorgeous.
That Rimbaud - I'm reading "Illuminations" - How young and how old. There are a few of his letters at the front (it is the New Directions 11th Printing original cost $2.25) they are so wonderful. Letters tell the stories of us - even letters as in the alphabets.
Yeah. I'm stoned. AND I decided wtf - I'll have a large pineapple vodka and mango juice with a dribble or two of champagne on the top and a squeezed clementine. It's only Noon. Plenty of time for a refreshing nap.
"The poet makes himself a visionary through a long, a prodigious and rational disordering of all the senses. Every form of love, of suffering of madness; he searches himself, he consumes all the poisons in him, keeping only their quintessences. Ineffable torture in which he will all his faith and superhuman strength, the great criminal, the great sickman, the accursed, - and the supreme Savant! For he arrives at the unknown..."
h here's more. But that's some intense shit for such a young man. I think if its in you - it is in you. Some can control it - at what cost - another topic - and for others - "It" controls them. As the Libra - I preach find the balance when possible.
I had never heard of this band. I went wandering - this is the best song I've found. Could be played going along with my mantra at night:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0z9XS72E7eg
Fuck you don't die, yet. x
ReplyDelete*Addendum - something got cut off at the comment about "Christ there is enough doom art " I was not saying there shouldn't be doom art - we need doom art - all the time in every age. And if doom art is what your making - don't feel bad - it has existed since cave painting.
ok. bye.
ReplyDeletec.c. Thank you -- I've just come back to read now. Smiled and giggled some fer sure. Write More.
Good stuff. I don't have it in me to reply yet.
ReplyDelete