electric eye elixirs

Tuesday, November 15, 2022

Flame from Flames

Forget about the frauline featured in the fold

I told the truth to the heavens

So keep it silent and

Don’t let the Quiet Queen know

You’re sad, desperately down

Rejected, refused full of hatred

Righteous rhetoric right here, right now

The silence of everything living

In reality western boys disperse and rally in their wealth with long luxurious manes

I’ll desperately reach out to touch the darkening space dust

Flame from flames with a cheerful confidence

They’re not concerned if Ruth’s sober

Tight lined and taught on the good ground

Realizing and rejoicing

I converse with my friends

I’ll get dirty during the day

And dispel the big black sleigh

Oh yeah! Repeat it

When you’re mobile and cheap and alone

You’re sad, desperately sad

Big black hole in your head

You’ve done so well, done so well

You arrange everything in a methodical manner

Pour water on the frozen lake

Wait in the wings

Flame from flames with a cheerful confidence

They’re not concerned if Ruth’s sober

Tight lined and taught on the good ground

Reaching an imperfect plateau

Your father hesitated and everything was a wash

I think I’ll get clean and let Ruth talk

Dapper Duchess

A stylish dark demon traveled cross country

Precisely appointed with archaic class

She rejected all the accoutrements from the au pair’s cache

Silently slithering on a Louisiana line

Running down south spitting out red wine

Wealthy woman

Oh, ha, ha

Keep on trying

Dapper Duchess falls forward

The Dapper Duchess despises the haze

She’s delightful

(Dapper Duchess)

She whispers and snickers

Dapper Duchess, get it together

Wow, woo

Stands like a sultana and frowns like a friend

He scorns her, he hates her to the bitter end

Splashes in the water with tiptoes in

She’s silent as she purchases dessert and wine

Dispel the old wig for party dress time

Wealthy woman

Ohh, hoo, hoo

A complex academician riding on the slide

She spits on the sidewalk and wakes on the ride

(Haa)

Hates to be hated

(Haa)

Hates to be hated

Black Hole Baroness

I was aware of the hour with the lights turned on

But I disregarded the call on the telephone

Ringing dog days strutting on some silly jazzy tunes

The soft suppress started to swell too soon

Turned out in a flash murmured in the trough

Spun out like a shock jock space jamming now

There’s a black hole lady sucking down the light

She polarizes people so don’t ask

If she’ll set your mind right

There’s the black hole lady sucking down the light

Ready to burst the bubble

She whispered with spite

Forbid the origin from giving

Halt the parents’ pain

Stop the seniors standing in the torrential rain

I can’t communicate with anyone so the whole lot is lost

From deep inside you missed dispelled by the cost

Turn the tv off cause all the transmissions are jammed

Close the curtains and seal in her darkness man

Embrace the dimness and tell her why

And then tell momma; she’ll set us free to fly

Wednesday, April 24, 2019

When ours lips became butterflies

And the immersions of the sprite-like springtime receded

The truth of light lifted our spirits

And filled our souls with warmth of a thousand summers

Friday, September 21, 2018

Jamerson Rd.

I remember when, down on Jamerson Road

All my flotsam friends, down on Jamerson Road

A starstruck tee-shirt stretched threadbare and thin

Hanging out all night, down on Jamerson Road... again

A cargo wreck it seemed, scattered all my dreams

Weathered like driftwood, washed away it would

Take me back, back, back again

Hanging out all night, down on Jamerson Road... again

In my captains chair, driving down the road

Listening to Jane's Addiction on the radio

One soul step closer to being home again

Driving all alone out on Jamerson Road... again

Saturday, June 9, 2018

Death Like Solitude

For the faceless fair maiden

Forced to frame a flower in place for all to view

The fragrance that lingers masks her emotions

Forced deep within

Never allowed to surface

Keeping the truth shrouded again

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

The Magician

With a pocketful of stardust, a willful suggestion and a smokescreen up his sleeve...

The Prestidigitator unravels mysterious amazement for those who wish to believe.

Charisma cast across the scene, his spell now engaged for those assembled to see...

An incantation conjuring and casting out the dream.

Slight of dexterous hands, he does weave, and the illusion unravels... into reality.

Abracadabra! Alacazam! Hocus Pocus and Shazam...

Saturday, September 9, 2017

Feelings in the darkness

I want to feel your violent dark delights brightened up by the neon red rum glow.

Loosened cannon majesty slurred on the currents and down winded blow.

A downward spiral slowly softened by your shadowy soul.

Recessed into the corners and tightened black as coal.

A blue diamond shower rains from your satellites eyes.

Washing away the echoing voices inside my mind.

Sunday, July 3, 2016

Super shifter:

It's way out... out of this world.
It just stared at me with it's large double set of black eyes.
Then I was taken aboard the mother ship and eventually to their home planet in the Andromeda galaxy.

They told me (telepathically of course) that the human race was not yet ready for the super shifter, and that I should use this advanced technology with great care and only for the benefit of humankind.

To avoid disturbing neighboring frequency oscillators they instructed me to keep the unit’s volume at reasonable level. After becoming comfortable with the unit, I found a preference for using it with headphones. In this way one need not be concerned about disturbing anyone or any control monitoring units (CMU) especially late at night.

Star Glider

On the purple-red rose road the fire-winged hero stood tall like a giant on his way home.

The Four Winds wished and prayed for hope that their colors would shine. And the grass grew tall for the fireflies to hide.

Star glider with heart two sizes too large; his dna flawed in the major groove. Solar thoughts of making return happened all too soon.

Tethered back to earth through weird warped windows. This land lost, and pained to retreat he languished in lavender dreaming, melting, until all tension washed away.

Sunday, November 22, 2015

Throw Away the Day

LPs and 45s are still cool people! And the thing is many bands are still putting out albums and singles not necessarily for the hip factor. Fact is with the right system, records do sound very very good. However, it bothers me when all the hipsters ooze, [in my best high pitched sarcastic hipster-slam voice], "Oh it sounds so good on vinyl.") and they have these dinky piece of junk turntables. Anyway, vinyl is being produced and released because there is a resurgence and demand. Likely as a way to re-engage listeners or it could be just a trend. But nonetheless now we can experience music like we used to. Remember when you would actually leave the house, go to the record store and thumb through the LP and 45 racks for hours looking for something new and interesting... perusing all the covers, flipping piece by piece? For me, the cover art was motivation for many a purchase. And remember the sweet musty smell of all the vinyl? And once you found an elusive gem or potentially life changing disc, you'd rush home, sit down in front of the turn table, slide out the record from its sleeve handling it like true treasure, place it on the deck, turn the dial to 45 or 33 rpm, move the tow arm over and place the needle into the first groove, and then experience... Adventure, art, discovery, elation, exploration, melancholy. You could actually hold the sleeve, read the liner notes, and embrace the experience.

It is Music! It is Music!

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy instant access to all my music (and I have amassed a huge collection both actual & virtual) and/or any conceivable song that I can think of (for the most part). But I fear that many people do the same at the risk of not appreciating it all... It's just too easy to listen to anything nowadays and that effort has been lost. Music has been devalued to a certain degree. It's a commodity, and it's purpose has somehow been lost... too easy to be cast aside like paper in the wind. But I guess it's just evolution.

Saturday, November 29, 2014

Kalvin S. Freud

03/24/2011

Kal's pan fried dumplings are cooking in his kitchen. I know this to be true because as I approach his apartment I can smell the intoxicating aroma wafting out of the first floor window. My mouth actually starts to salivate with anticipation of devouring a plateful of those delicious delights. He makes them from scratch following his mom's recipe handed down from generation to generation.

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Im down to using again

Chorus:

I'm down,

I'm down to using again.

Over and over,

Again and then.

Bridge:

I'm getting sick.

I'm getting sick and tired...

Verses:

I'm getting strung out!

I'm getting stretched out thin!

I'm spun out...

Like a wire from within (the inside)

I'm shining...

I'm shining dim...

(lights burning dim)---

I'm scattered...

(light scatters)---

Like a flame from within (the inside)---

I'm closing...

I'm closing in...

(closing it in)---

I'm closer to falling...

(close to falling again)---

Like a stone from within (the inside)---

I'm dragging...

I'm dragging back in...

(black dragon again)---

I'm drug out (blackout)

(black blackout out in)---

Like a black light from within (the inside)---

Verse: E. G. A. > octave chords.

Bridge: ||: E. C. B. :|| x4.

Walk up: B, C, D, Eb, E.

My ten years traveled

Variation on a traveling theme. "I travel, yeah!"

D chords very echoed with flanger on.

Mostly octaves: Build to end D octave.

Chords @5th fret: D octave, D add 4, D5.

Build into rhythm, go to barre chords @ 5th fret:

"Each time I traveled lighter and made up for the innocence of my youth."

"It is better to travel well than arrive."

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Golden light

11/13/2014

The golden light where trails of color dissolve.

Amber to gold and down the yellow brick road.

We skipped freely and fancy on our platformed souls.

We traveled the distance but were never guaranteed knowledge of the land.

Olive and tanned we stretched to touch the branch with open hand.

The life within hidden like emeralds challenging to understand.

Short and sharp we shared the same mark.

Target unbridled and bare obviously left alone for too many years.

Forward we trekked without a clue or care.

Building memories to be forgotten or forlorn by choice or by voice from his master's command.

Now with sails unfurled our eyes opened to a whole new world.

Covered and comfort freshened by each new shore.

Brilliant and brash discovery at last opening new doors around each new path.

Desire determined to make the embers burn bright.

So bright that the the flames cannot even extinguish one solitary soul.

Monday, March 17, 2014

The infinite quiet of the star spangled midnight

03/20/2014

Look up into the infinite quiet of the star spangled midnight.

Falling into the chasm of our once feeble mind’s eyes.

Now released with the echoes of pure sight and blurred into the ether.

Thursday, January 30, 2014

archaic art archives

august 17, 2013, 7:18 pm

antecedent efforts and aspirational attempts

Thursday, January 16, 2014

In praise of the 4-wood

April 7, 1935.

Let's give credit where it's due. And seriously, not since Sarazen's double eagle at the 1935 Masters, has there been such a striking shot.
Firethorn was conquered that day with a swift second stroke; the "shot heard round the world" lingers in memories of many, imprinting inspiration.
An event that put Augusta on the map and served as an opportunity to escalate the status of his selected stick.
That well-struck 4-wood sent a small sphere sailing two hundred thirty five yards until it slithered into the recess of the four and a quarter inch cup.
Oh how we love statistics and the warmth that numbers generate, but repetition is fleeting and glory is often short lived.
However, pin-seekers assemble on Sunday mornings in the Spring seeking the path to perfection in finely fashioned attire.
No matter how elusive... they return time after time comforted by the security of a trusted club drawn from the bag with stealthy confidence.
The perfect companions... we project personalities to enliven these inanimate objects.
The golf club... it's an extension of our being; it provides a connection to our spirit and the four wood just may very well be the perfect fairway weapon.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Drab Bard

Drab as a fool, as Eno.
No radar on.

One's aloof as a bard.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

In Appreciation of Jim Carroll

Hands clasped together in an insect motion... 8/13/13

His smooth yet static voice brimming with verve and the velocity of an impact slap on the main line.
His deliberate delivery painstakingly describing every detail.
His cadence carefully calculated to calm staggered nerves.
Slowly the calloused prose strikes harmonious chords.
Words resonate spilling grit and grimy rhythms smoothed out like new pavement.
Covering the underbelly of dark days spent in upper Manhattan.

(James Dennis Carroll: August 1,1949 - September 11, 2009)