(since my baby left me) the well's run dry

refrain:
since my baby left me,
the well's run dry,
said she didn't need me,
the well's run dry,
got a man 2 <3 her right,
the well's run dry,
oh, pobrecito.

1. i been comin' late 2 work,
took tha' blame 4 some jerk,
now the boss man's fired me,
the well's run dry (refrain)

2. fed my dog a bunch o' scraps,
she went 2 moanin' in the nite,
now she's gone up 'n' died,
the well's run dry (refrain)

3. the ride she's rough got 4 flat tires,
now i walk 'n' don't get far,
the repo man he towed my car,
the well's run dry (refrain)

4. since the twister took my home,
far 'n' wide i do roam,
just like a rollin' stone,
the well's run dry.
(refrain) (refrain) (and out...)

- a little ditty from uncle krishnaremus

purgatorio

down, down he trudged, through thick smoke, exhaust mixed with the tinge of human sweat and rotting waste. the crush of bodies pushing against, some moving upward, some down, eyes averted each in their own self-made inferno. a few more steps and there he lost his balance. turning in the air it all came to him, every suffering he had inflicted on all of these, the loved and the unloved. falling only a moment yet interminable, he knew it would hurt, and then he hit bottom. blackness, and all around a fog, lying on the mix of footsteps and grime. it was then she came to him, a movement so slight, a gentle touch in this blindness. grasping, lunging, lost in the foul air he felt himself lifted up and against a firm shoulder and the softness of her skin. lowering now, he moved in close, enveloped by her as blackness closed in again.

* reverie *

 

He ran out ahead to the playground, hoping to get to the monkey bars before the other kids. But there she was, stopping him in his tracks. He can't remember how, maybe someone pushed him, but there he lay flat on his back staring up and into the face of an angel silhouetted by the bright autumn sun. She stepped forward and stood over him, fists clenched against her hips, staring down at him. The breeze billowed her pleated plaid skirt and passed cool on his face as he looked up and into the mystery of darkness and beyond.

in love there is no consort with doubt

as quickly as it all began, it was over...whammm, a hurricane blows through your life leaving behind a trail of devastation. that and a question to the universe, how? and why? a new year beginning in ecstacy and immediately after falling into a feverish state of delirium. waking in the night to sweat-drenched sheets and open sores, seven days in purgatory lying on her sofa, alone with your thoughts. and that, that is the downfall of many a man: "are you sure?" "are you REALLY sure?" synapses going into overdrive as you realize that somewhere someone's despair is balancing out your joy.

for in love there is no consort with doubt. when it gets a foot in the door, it kicks its way into the room. and there you are, intuition laid bare, sliced open and left to bleed out by a moment of questioning. in its wake trust dissolves, connections disconnect, and you are tossed out and back into the world of samsara...and after you hang on as long as you can, but...only now just past the sleepless nights, the turmoil, the chemically induced numbness, left to sort out, to reflect and (maybe) begin again. yet you still find gratitude and blessing, for experience, for failure, for each step along the way, for the brevity of perfection, together spinning on the great wheel of the all.

Once More I Came Upon My Treasure

( ( Into the Fire ) )

It's friday nite and here I am at the friendly neighborhood Winter Solstice party. Here at the ass-end of this inexplicably glorious year, this year of bleeding profusely. Behind me shitloads of sweat and pain, the bottom dropping out of the life I had so meticulously constructed.

So here I am blowing into the embers of a budding fire fashioned by eager yet tenuous loving hands. Before my eyes now the fire is blazing, and I am given to leave behind this year of blood and toil, as the Persian's brother beckons, "into the fire, all of my sickness, all of my weakness, into the fire". The hand drum begins to beat out a rhythm, that of something new and wonderful.

And there he is, the one who marked the auspicious moment, barely one month hence. The drunk Persian salesman, the angelic fool who prophesied this new beginning before my very eyes. What could I do but thank him profusely and marvel at the rightness of this moment? Then, as quickly as he appeared, he was gone.

Once more I came upon my treasure, and we drank chilled vodka with freshly spilled pomegranate seeds, an offering made together on this longest night of the year. Then we danced, intoxicated with joy and desire, all the more ecstatic in its falling upon us as true gift.

Way Down South (500X Gallery Performance)

"Way Down South"
performance still
12.16.06

Way Down South
performance video
12.16.06
500X Gallery, Dallas

Way Down South
sound recording
2014

Way Down South lyrics:

A way down yonder in the land of crackers,

Stars baby, computer hackers,

Look away, look away, look away, way down south.

Where the river mud is dirt brown,

Piss is yellow, you're a handsome fella,

Look away, look away, look away, way down south.

Stole my first car at the age o' thirteen,

Back seat drivin', got inside her jeans,

Look away, look away, look away, way down south.

Sweet honey in tha' rock, mary jane upon the stalk,

Watch for snakes where you walk,

Look away, look away, look away, way down south.

Got back from church early in the morn,

Kicked out my t.v. watchin' porn,

Look away, look away, look away, way down south.

Donde esta...ahhh muy bien,

Shake those hips, iniquity and sin,

Look away, look away, look away, way down south.

Maya, Priscilla, Rosa and Dolly,

Mahalia, Aretha, Flannery, Molly,

Hallelu, halleluj, hallelu,

Look away, look away, look away, way down south.

Miami Journal (Do You Go Down?)

(Day 1: Monday 12/4) Headed onto the elevator at Miami International Airport with two aging mamacitas. One quizzes me about the direction of the elevator, "Do you go down?", she said. Brief pause, then I replied..."yes, I do".

A short while later I found myself outside the Aqua Hotel on South Beach, bloodied toe sticking out from my sandal (side note: "thus concludes the year of bleeding profusely") and ready for adventure...