PERFECT FROM THE START

I was born a prodigal son with tattoos plastered across my face. In a mysterious yet perfect Elizabethan script they said, “Dear Mother, I will recklessly forget your glory. I will scatter the riches you give me upon a sweet, naive & unsuspecting full moon. I will choose suffering before healing.  I will rip my soul to shreds. I will shine as bright as any star you have ever created. I will be folly before I flourish. I am your son. I am my mother’s son.” 

Don’t hurt me. Love me. Laugh with me. Smile with me. I will fulfill your plans for me because underneath the veil of chaos, my heart will never forget that whatever your will creates is divine & cannot be separated from its source. Whether I remember it or not, my soul knows everything. My soul is the beating of your heart at midday. You rejoice in my healed and fractured mind because you know I know you never make mistakes.

And so it was. And so it is. So you see? I said come and see and She saw … She did come & the entire cosmos did see that I was never unworthy of her love because it is her desire that all life should flower eternally with joy regardless the path her beloved children choose to take. Is it any wonder why I cry so hard? Is it any wonder why I laugh so loud? I am the wind that churns. I am a young bird weeping. I am the center of the hawk’s red eye and … it is hard to believe it’s been perfect from the start … yes … perfect from the start.

I grew up in the cracks of skyscrapers. I learned to run before I could walk. I’ve seen the world in flames. I’ve heard my Mother’s sobbing. I know your pain because I am an old man dying. I am the newborn’s breath. I am a tree standing tall and proud and … I am here to say it is more than fun or games or unbearable pain. It is joy and laughter. It’s the look of love and  …  I am a young bird singing. I am its Mother weeping. I am the sun & I’m laughing all the way each & every perfect day. It is hard to believe but it’s been perfect from the start … every day in every way, yes, perfect from the start.

THIS MOON TONIGHT

There is no way you can avoid this moon tonight.

Do you hear me?

There is no way you can avoid this moon tonight.

At this moment

It is framed by my giant regal avocado tree in bloom.

There is the face of Buddha in it.

That is very clear.

Or should I say, ‘He is very clear?”

There is a nucleus spinning rapidly.

There are lotus flowers morphing and diamonds too.

They are in the mix.

Another face but it is not human.

There is a new moon full tonight.

It is not like any moon ever before.

MORE THAN THIS

Pour my heart into your soul.

My body is your sacred chalice.

Swim in the warm waters of my mind.

Wash your wounds in the sea of me.

Nourish the belly of your beast with succulents

from the bounty of my harvest.

 

 

I, WITNESS ~ I OF THE STORM ~ OF MONSTERS AND MEN

i was there at the beginning … i’m nobody special … just a witness  … i met you before you were born  … you were not much older then than you are now … i was your age then … but you died … you were one of the first to leave … the whole world grieved … mostly for us … what would become of us …. with you no longer here … we took solace wherever we could & any way we could without care or thought for we believed then that there would be no future without you … worth living …

we were stranded on this island … without you  … we lost ourselves inside ourselves … everyone drowned in tears of sorrow …. that was then … this is now … i ‘m just a witness called forth to say … you …  who illuminates the entire cosmos  … you illuminate also our hearts so with or without you …. we shine … so bright … see us  … feel us … we rise … a standing ovation to you … on this most miraculous of days in the most miraculous of ways we rise and shine and shine and  … shine … 

you, who are the source of all power, whose rays illuminate the entire universe, illuminate also our hearts so that we too can do you work … and so it is … and so it is … so it is … 

Lyrics

If I could face them
If I could make amends
With all my shadows
I’d bow my head
And welcome them
But I feel it burning
Like when the winter wind
Stops my breathing

Are you really going to love me
When I’m gone
I fear you won’t
I fear you don’t

And it echoes when I breathe
‘Till all you’ll see
Is my ghost
Empty vessel, crooked teeth
Wish you could see
And they call me under
And I’m shaking like a leaf
And they call me under
And I wither underneath
In this storm

I am a stranger
I am an alien
Inside a structure
Are you really going to love me
When I’m gone
With all my thoughts
And all my faults
I feel it biting
I feel it break my skin
So uninviting

Are you really going to need me
When I’m gone
I fear you won’t
I fear you don’t

And it echoes when I breathe
‘Till all you see is my ghost
Empty vessel, crooked teeth
Wish you could see
And they call me under
And I’m shaking like a leaf
And they call me under
And I wither underneath
In this storm

I feel it
And they call me under
And I’m shaking like a leaf
And they call me underneath
To this storm

Songwriters: ARNAR ROSENKRANZ HILMARSSON, NANNA BRYNDIS HILMARSDOTTIR, RAGNAR THORHALLSSON
© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
For non-commercial use only.
Data From: LyricFind

MY WISH FOR YOU

 

I am Jewish by proxy. I am a Christian because I know Jesus. He knows me. I am most definitely Muslim. The only religious instruction I received as a boy was meeting up with my best pal Darius whose mother was a slight Irish-American woman who married a tall, beautiful man from Persia or Iran as that land is now called. He was never in the picture. I think I am certain I met him only once and then I never met him again.

I suppose I will never know the entire story of what was obviously an ironic & paradoxical match, much like the match between a poor deep south Delta Mississippi orphaned man and a woman born and bred in Hell’s kitchen, NYC. Such were my parents. That man too, I hardly knew at all. I am thankful that my mother had the balls to leave him when she did. I was only five and my baby sister was two. But my older brothers, three of them, now all gone from this earth and my eldest sister, who was also in that first wave of children, suffered immense pain because a soldier who wields a rifle for his country from WW II to Vietnam with great honor does not necessarily make a good father. Be armed and forewarned.

Darius went to Muslim school. That is what he called it. I would follow him from time to time and he would relate to me some of what he had learned. It was very much like pulling teeth but I was a trooper who never gave up much as I am today. I learned about the poetry of the KORAN. I learned that Muhammad was a friend of Jesus and they in turn shared their friends with each other and all the world just because that’s the kind of sons they are.

In my early years as an emancipated minor I studied & graduated from Laguna Beach High School. There was a professor there who taught us who was a Rabbi. From him I learned that every land has its own wisdom.

Buddha is a great friend of mine. He is always smiling whether it rains tears of blood or the sky goes on in a cobalt blue hue forever and ever. I dress him up sometimes in drag. I snap photos of my mad creations then I make digital art out of them. He doesn’t mind at all. He is happy to be of service regardless my whimsy.

I know another god who lives secretly out in the open. This one is everywhere and in everything. I can’t say enough about how beautiful this god is … who can be still and not marvel in wonder?

I wish for you to understand that there is nothing that separates us from each other but illusion. I wish for you to know that all life is sacred. There is much that cannot be explained in our language but that is not a prerequisite to entering the door of our birthright. The sages say that birthright is to know joy forever. 

We may face trials that will truly push us to our limits and sometimes over the rainbow and into a void of nothingness, but in a strange yet wonderful land called truth & faith & love there is a place at the table for you & me. There is no division. There are no arguments at all. There is only a sense of pure joy. That you know this to be true is my wish for you.

INCINERATE MY SAVAGE SOUL

I AM PAPER BURNING AT ALL MY EDGES

YOU ARE THE SMOKE I  BECOME

WRITTEN BY SCOTT UTLEY – BURN

 

DISCOURSE AT OJAI by SCOTT UTLEY

HE SAID:

I am only human. My voice is powerful so I never shout. We share many of the same thoughts. We come from the same womb. The source of all our inspiration never cries but laughs a lot.

HE SAID:

If you abort a child whose heart has begun to beat then that is murder. If you have not, do not worry or force your views for The Great Source of Our Belonging will see to a loving rectification. If you have then remember this: I have seen the light of forgiveness in the eyes of eternity & your story must be told. Your wisdom must find its home so speak your longing.

HE SAID:

The Bible has sharp & angry claws yet still great & wonderful truths are alive & found everywhere across its pages. Stay aware of deception concealed with stunning craft. There are lies stitched into the timeless fabric of my clarion call to salvation. They are scattered seemingly without rhyme or reason by infiltrated wicked minds who hate love. There is nothing random or unintentional about these untruths. Do not allow the haters of this world to keep you from me.

HE SAID:

Judas is my brother. He loves me very much as I do him. That Judas was a traitor is just one of many deceptions. In truth, he gave the ultimate sacrifice for me. Without him, our Father’s plan could have never come to be. Love Judas as you do me. Sift through the holy pages of The Word. Discard that which your heart says is untrue. I say, ‘listen to your heart’ for it is there I dwell forever. Everything I am is within you. Go there now. Ask if these words I speak are true or not. Feel if what I tell you resonates with the piercing sound of truth. Either way I am the light & I am the way.

HE SAID:

Do not take it upon yourself to sit in judgment of your fellow man. A man takes the life of one man & then you punish him by taking his life. Who will punish you for that very same offense? Compassion makes me happy. Forgiveness gets me high.

HE SAID:

Be happy. It is your birthright to know joy forever. When pain comes & come it shall, embrace it rather than run away. You will never be able to hide. So sharpen your courage.  Kiss the ground you walk on. Take the path your heart desires. Be kind & love life. This is my devout wish & hope & plan for you.

He smiled a smile of ecstasy as he turned towards the rose dusked sky & slowly walked away.

JACKIE EVANCHO-AGE 14-WITH OR WITHOUT YOU-INSIGHTFUL COMMENTARY by SCOTT UTLEY

4~4~2016  

6:45 AM-LOS ANGELES

THIS JUST IN:

I must be mental like they say I am. They are absolutely out of their minds so I don’t put too much stock into their views. To me their opinions are as relevant & as chock full of truth as Richard Nixon; egocentric, self-serving-wrong will-strong willed absolute thieves & killers of love & life & just who are they anyway? (This is how I wake up each morning.)

I have forgot what it was I was I was here to say. It should come back to me at some point today so continue to wait with bated breath while I finish smoking this cigarette in one hand, sip a cup of coffee in the other as I finish off the pizzas (two)  I bought last night to share with BINGO II … (I am flummoxed as to why he is gaining so much weight.).

Tick tock tick tock tick tock tock tock tock tock … tick … tock … I have ticks? Was I speaking about ticks? Bed bugs? No, I remember. Yes. I saw a headline online-or rather I was hijacked again by miniature microchip soulless militia inside one of my many mostly non-functioning Toshiba boob-toob computers to hell … ? …. I don’t know either. Google it. Dear Jesus Christ, please help me complete a sentence? I’ll be your best friend.

I saw a headline online about some new book. Below is the captioned photo I swiped from the article about yet another new book. They are a dime a dozen these days. I think to myself in an absolute, complete fog (I always wake up in a fog.), “The author of this article I am reading has a real knack for the obvious.” OF COURSE WE HAVE TO LIVE WITHIN PLANETARY BOUNDARIES! Is there another option? What? What’s that you say? I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you! Gimme. Gimme. Gimme my COFFEE!

That’s my hat. That’s my cigarette. That’s my lighter & that is my hand. That’s my coffee. Buddha is such a mooch sometimes but we get along just fine. Coffee? Did someone mention coffee? What happened to my coffee? Where is my coffee? Damn! I have to get up & start another. This is a fine way to start another relentlessly fabulous day in LA.

Let me step out into my office right this moment to snap a picture of what it’s like here at this time in this moment. Miserable, huh? You will agree how relentless this all is. I am certain. You will, won’t you? I will be right back. But first … coffee? Must I rise like the Phoenix to fetch a pail of coffee? I suppose I can take that picture too. I may as well kill two birds with one stone. There is more than one way to skin a cat.

Why would anyone want to stone birds or skin cats? This is a mixed up world sometimes. I shall rise now. This may sound easy to you but it is a chore for me. I have to stand up & move. I am not happy about this. I’ll be back soon if I can do this. If you notice that I have not returned & I am gone forever remember me well as the guy who simply wanted a pail of coffee but nobody was there to serve him. It’s your fault if I die.

11:11 AM LOS ANGELES CA US of A:

So you see what I mean? Relentless. Relentless. Relentless. There is no thunder. Although I do notice a piece of evidence that ALEX JOHNS did indeed do most of the preliminary work when he first started to produce the film  WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE. That is curious indeed. I wonder he received no credit. I suppose you can’t get away with anything no matter whether you believe that or not. One will, without doubt, reap what one sows come hell or high water. That should make some of you happy & some of you horrified. It makes me laugh.

ALEX JOHNS 1966-2010. ROSEVILLE, CALIFORNIA~CEDAR SINAI, LA, CALIFORNIA. ALEX did quit production & the whole thing was shut down for 8 months while someone somewhere up on Castle Mountain decided what to do. I guess, well, I don’t guess, I know that ALEX JOHNS could not stand that arrogant psycho-pathetic producer he was working with. He did not care for the SOB at all. Lucky for that fella I forget his name. Relentless. Relentless. No lightning. No rain. Even a plethora of earthquakes we receive each day leave nothing to remind us they were here. NOTHING! One day perhaps, but lately, NOTHING! It is simply … relentless. Look at this place. You call this an office?

It’s a shame. What’s a shame? It is. It is also the reason why if I ever win a ridiculously high amount of US cash in the California State Lottery you should not bother yourself by asking me for anything. That is if you can find me which is quite unlikely. That is … if … [‘if’ is the operative word here] … if I were ever to win so much cold hard US legal tender ‘solid as the vault at Fort Knox Kentucky’ cash, I would become a miser just to piss you off. I’m just saying if. Just sayin is all I’m doing  or is fantasy out of the question too? That’s your question to answer, not mine. I already know the answer. Everything created by man & woman is a seed of fantasy at the germinating point. This I know. I believe this to be true. So I keep dreaming.

If  I were to be wealthy beyond measure I would leave it all to this thing in the photo below. What is it? It popped up in my garden one day & never left. I called in the National Guard thinking the earth was being taken over by medium sized mammals. I had forgot that the national Guard is off on Mondays. I assumed it was a mammal because it has genitals, or it did at one point. That too is a mystery to me. Everything is. I did not even get a call back from the Guard. I think they don’t like me. So this creature spends its entire day making me laugh by imitating people we find irritating or boring & innocuous or people we are love with. In other words, we are very busy all day.  Everyday is a non stop laugh-a-thon. I call him BINGO but he answers to BAGEL. He looks like a BEAGLE named BAGEL but please call him BINGO.

In conclusion: I am going to rise up now & pour another cup of coffee. It is a laborious process of getting the exact amount of sugar & cream to my coffee (ratio and other mathematical terms are required here ). If I am off by even one iota of a nano-molecule one way or the other or the other way altogether then I would die because that is not the way mornings are supposed to start & there are no second chances anymore. Please don’t feel guilty although it would be totally your fault. Say a prayer. I am rising. Please hold …

 {HE HAS RISEN}

“Three hikers appear as tiny silhouettes against the backdrop of an Icelandic glacier on the cover of Big World, Small Planet. The book takes the view that our growing human population can live sustainably on planet Earth, provided that we live within key planetary boundaries.”

 *Although Scott was never seen again and his disappearance is a mystery for the ages, (only G-d knows for sure and she is not talking) we still believe in Xanadu and one day, G-d willing, Scott shall return just as bright eyed, talented, beautiful, humble & bushy tailed as ever. One can only speak of hope. And so it is. Amen! EDITOR at LARGE: THE HUFFINGTON POST: April 4, 2016 WASHINGTON D.C., US of A. MS. *MARY BAKER EDDY.

Mary Baker Eddy (July 16, 1821 – December 3, 1910) was the founder of Christian Science, a new religious movement, in the United States in the latter half of the 19th century.

Eddy wrote the movement’s textbook, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures (first published 1875), and in 1879 founded the Church of Christ, Scientist. She also founded the Christian Science Publishing Society (1898), which continues to publish a number of periodicals, including The Christian Science Monitor (founded in 1908).

What I must remember & you must never forget, this world will go on with or without you. Here is JACKIE EVANCHO singing home the point.

 

 

 

 

 

LAURIE ANDERSON & MOHAMMED el GHARANI: HABEAS CORPUS ~ THE LAURA FLANDERS SHOW ~ FEATURING CHINA GIRL ~ DAVID BOWIE

WARNING: COARSE LANGUAGE: You can bitch all you want. You can agree with TRUMP, and apparently 2/3’s of the American public does, that waterboarding and other forms of torture of terrorist suspects is OK, but then that means you are no longer an American because it is unconstitutional and anathema to a true democracy. Let us skip over the moral and compassion issues it brings to mind. Our society is good at doing that anyway. In other words, the terrorists are winning because you are afraid and now you are giving up your country – YOU ASSHOLE!

THE LAURA FLANDERS SHOW with LAURIE ANDERSON

Any culture that does not do everything in its power to breed a culture loving artistic child is a frigging failure. On the other hand, the new generation that is coming up is pretty damn smart – remember – it only takes a few. My parent’s generation~they call them the greatest generation~and they were, (I am the second youngest child of a mother who was already 40 when she had me) but that generation WW II, etc., perhaps was great … yes, they were great but their baby booming children truly, truly suck …. (for the most part.). Thank G-D the universe works as a strand of DNA does. Without getting into it, sometimes genetic mutations skip and crisscross each other producing a generation that may very well match or even more likely, exceed the accomplishments of the greatest generation & skipping over completely the traits of their parent’s bull-hickey crap.

DAVID BOWIE & LAURIE ANDERSON are two examples of the very best the 20th century had & still has to offer. For me, they are both prophets of the highest order and I have I always felt that way. You may just be discovering BOWIE now and know nothing about LAURIE ANDERSON but that will not last long. Get down on your knees if you can and say thank you – be grateful . THANK YOU G-D!

 

www dot god hates you dot com

Good morning ladies and gentlemen,

this is your flight attendant speaking.

Please fasten your seat belts.

The captain has asked me to remind you,

there is no smoking permitted in the lavatories,

and to tell you we are going down!

Down!

Down!

Our fiery crash landing into the snow capped mountain top

should be metaphorically painless but one never knows.

The temperature at the site our destination is uncomfortable.

Should you require assistance upon our arrival,

do not hesitate to call upon your flight attendant.

Beverages with continental breakfast shall be served at Heaven’s Gate,

located in the main concourse compliments of our lord, Jesus Christ.

Everyone is welcome except reverend Frederick Phelps of the Hillsboro Baptist

Hillsboro Baptist Community Church, Topeka, Kansas, sitting in AISLE 2, SEAT  A 69.

You are going to hell.

Hell!

Hell!

Because ‘Freddy’,  www dot god hates you dot com.

Thank you for flying our friendly skies.

And have a nice day.

WILL YOU BE MY CRAZY HEART?

I love the laughter within my barbecued mind.  Faint echoes of Cherry Sprites  pierce a fragile silence even when there is nothing going on. They skip down  the pathway to my paper-mâché heart. They have found a home within me. We trade love for shelter. Do you hear the music? Hear it? I can pick up radio stations just by opening up my inner ears. Listen, “Well he talked all night about the suicide & how it kicked him in the head when he was twenty-five …”  Think I’m pretty? Do you? Do you respect me? Will you ever? I’m not a convict. I’ve never been a felon. You look at me as if I am. You think I’m crazy, don’t you? Well, get this. I  might be crazy but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. I do community service because I  truly want to help others any way I can. I’m not forced by any court to do this. It’s my way of giving something back to all the little people who have helped to make me who I am today. Oh my, here we are already. That was fast. Anyway, this is my exit, Hollywood and Vine. You may come up to my place for a while … if you wish. Sip some wine. I don’t bite. Well, I do but I won’t. If you’re really good and treat me right, I might even let you spend the night. Oh, you hear that? Do you?  Listen. Hear it?  “Mister Sandman, sing me a tune … ”

BURN in FARSI

I took a taxi here in Los Angeles about ten months ago. It turns out the driver was from Iran, and he was impressed that I knew of some of Persia’s great poets. He asked me to recite something that I felt was inspired by some of the poets I had read of. I did. He asked me to write it down for him.  I did. Eight months later I called for another taxi and he was the driver. He pulled a page out from his papers at his side and gave me this. He translated what I had written from the Farsi he wrote. His version was far more beautiful. Funny world. Strange land. Amazing times

 

 

 

.

MOON BLESSING

If reckless joy rips me apart

I hope I never heal.

If the scorching heat of love’s desire

should sear my spirit’s flesh,

I will dress it in a balm

made from the nectar of your soul.

 

 

 

AND THAT’S THE WAY IT IS

Martin – Allo – Yes and yes – got the tea and Alex
got the DVD’s – that was
so nice of you – haven’t tried either one yet – I
finally went to the doctor
and got antibiotics – seems I had an upper
respiratory infection for weeks
and weeks and all I needed was an anti-biotic –
knocked it right out.

We have been in a vicious heat wave – looks like it
breaks tomorrow – it was
so hot I just stayed in Alex’s place with the air
conditioner while Alex has
been in San Francisco. He went up early last Thurs
for a meeting with Wild
Brain which takes place tomorrow. Tue.

I haven’t even looked at e-mail this past week – now
that I am means I am
getting better and the heat is breaking – I hate the
heat! That’s really all
that’s going on right now.

Except;

The courts keep hounding me for jury duty – I don’t
think they will bother
me much after I told them I thought the judiciary
was institutionalized class
warfare and racism; the supreme court is Hitler and
everyone in law
enforcement and the courts are the gestapo. Plus
they ask you to swear on a bible
under oath and that is unconstitutional; clearly an
infringement against
separation of church and state. I told them to get
it all sorted out then call me
and that if I were on a jury, I would have to vote
not guilty no matter what was
before me since I cannot trust the police to be
truthful about anything.

I know I am on a list somewhere, probably a few,
probably so many that they
are all confused since I support and condemn
everything and everyone simply
on my whims. The US is barbaric and a revolution is
brewing. I want to be
Benedict Arnold. What thinkest thou?

And that’s the way it is: Los Angeles Monday 22 June
2008

Love Scott

CELESTIAL ORCHESTRATIONS written & performed by SCOTT UTLEY

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONLY YOU written by SCOTT UTLEY

I once slew a beautiful beast. I brought you meat & a silver sable fur which kept us warm throughout the coldest winter in almost a thousand years. I was a saint who loved throwing miracles at your feet. I was a devil who incinerated your generous spirit with my savage desires. I ate your heart while it still beat in your magnificent breast. I was once an angel who held you tight through a long & devastating night.  I was once your lover who gave you the world in the shimmer of a solitary black pearl which I foolishly lost in a canyon by the sea. I was once a man who cared a lot. I grew a gorgeous crop sustaining you … only you.

BURN written by SCOTT UTLEY

INCINERATE MY SAVAGE SOUL

I AM PAPER BURNING AT ALL MY EDGES

YOU ARE THE SMOKE I BECOME

GOLIATHANS written by SCOTT UTLEY

In various shades of suede stood Rex, King of the Goliathans. The Great Dane beauty had lived his life according to the laws of God. Kilos of muscle, tendons & fierce intelligence griped the cliffs to Heaven’s Gate. Behind him, carrying a pail of lotus leaves galloped Alex. I loved him for that. I saw a field of Mandarin Poppies bleed into the horizon. I saw both giants lay dying to their earthly vessels as much as deathly hues could burnish.

Where the sky meets the raging sea dreams did weep along the mouth of the mourning coast. Big Sur cried throughout the night. Angels sighed as the ocean, lapping needling pines, did show such compassion that the rains did come. As eve dipped into the pitch black ink of night, these two giants laying there gave witness to eternal splendor. I loved them both for that. Frosted magma breached the shores where I lay crying.

Morning came without her sirens and all was calm, when before mine eyes I surely saw a dream come forth. I looked to where the giants had laid down their heavy journey. On the very mark they had been supinely entwined near the raging sea with her eyes wide opened were two splendid giant Birds of Paradise. I loved God for that & I kissed her sky for the shear love of it all. 

FANTASTIC DANCE

His ascension came twenty one days to the day he left his beautiful body.  A silhouette was all that we could define through the sun drenched smile he wore. It is impossible to mistake his world class smile for that of any other. A starlight flurry of goodness blotted out the pain of our broken hearts just as dawn galloped in. We told each other later that we had witnessed a chariot of gold sutured with platinum thread; a glistening chassis beriched beyond conception with spinning, light-bolted studs & each masterpiece capped with an astonishing precious gem. Some jewels were not of this world. Some jewels were not even of this universe… such magnificence as none of us had ever seen nor would ever see again… a true sweet chariot of the gods propelled by the holy willed power of four & twenty black maned stallions of equal majesty. They pulled the suns & moons from galaxies nearest our own across a royal blue-blooded, yoke-tinged, cobra-laced sky.

Our souls, bedazzled & breathless, reflexively thrust an ovation onto the astrolabe of dawn. Only delicate golden orioles could be heard singing good morning to this beautiful day. Alex preferred it this way. In a favorite past incarnation he was a Roman Augur, therefore his heart was rich with fondness for every winged being he ever knew.

Ruby red diamonds, yellows, blues & Tahitian black pearls from yet another sweet time & place rained upon everyone~ pulsing unified code~surfing crazy shiny-mind waves of Mother Milky Way. Their mirrors reflected wondrous images. Among them were holy men washing the feet of beggar men & the women who keep the fires burning dancing a fantastic dance, millions of them & more but numbers do not go up that high, especially where numbers don’t count at all.

There were many women dancing a fantastic dance. I was reminded of the Black ladies who sing the gospels; from the hips, hands to the sky, left then right; a supplication out to front then down to the ground, over & over & over again. There were smiles everywhere & love, joy & more joy. If you could get close enough to these mahogany ladies you’d find that there is a lot of space & a great freedom around each one, yet from a distance they look packed together moving in unison; perfect choreography like a water dance; up, down, left, right & happy. Did I mention happy?

This must be the part of heaven God has reserved for poets, from the first poet to the last, from infant poets to great ancient oracles. Everything alive & electrical is heading the same way. Everyone loving the same because love moves in the same direction as our galaxy & the cosmos. It must be the joy of the spiral, from helical strands of DNA to the great spiraling universes. It is a perpetual blossoming. It makes a happy sound. Our nature is a happy sound. Laughter. Smiles. It is a great way to live. It would be a wonderful way to die if there was such a thing as death.

Alex smiled his way throughout the universe just as he had done throughout our lives. He never cared for anything in the world but pure love. God loved him for that. We all did. We all do. More than anything else, more than his mind blowing mastery of numerous forms of art & branches of science, Alex Johns was a great poet. They say the same about saints who come to visit us. The love of great poets defies profound. Such purity of soul makes you want to cry. I don’t know why they bother with us unless it is because they love us so much… as much as we love them.

And so it was. So it is.

JUST A PERFECT DAY

From this primordial cauldron, sulfur & nitrogen compounds fume, ghost-like, up into the ether. This is where stars are born & stars die. Here, a lazy lizard is apt to check you out up & down faster than a rattlesnake can rattle. This is where the trickster coyote crosses my path. No matter how congested Los Angeles becomes, the coyote finds me.

Just yesterday about 9 in the morning I was passing Benedict Canyon in my car when an unusually large doe gallops into my peripheral vision. She charges head-on for my car’s front bumper. Two seconds before impact she freezes… cocks her giant dewy eyed head from side to side gazing at me with unmistakable attitude; a sweet, sly humor.

Later in the day, a monarch butterfly of uncommon earthly hues glides into our garden circling twice before gently resting upon Alex’s head. I tip my gaze a fraction skyward just in time to catch two mischievous ruby-red throated hummingbirds hover above them… just a moment… before they return to their frenetic game of tag. I think I am witnessing still life in motion.

I rake the driveway free of the purple jacaranda blooms while our cat purrs upturned, side to side with the dogs; all three innocents hypnotized by the spring sun. Finally, just as I believe I’ve seen it all for one day, a swift & hungry falcon comes charging from the heavens to the top of our avocado tree, then she lunges at a flock of doves cooing blissfully in a chorus line perched on a limb. Feathers come raining down upon our heads. The falcon is stunned. We can see it dawn upon her; all the doves have gotten away.

THE SEMI-GREAT NORTHRIDGE EARTH QUAKE: JANUARY 17, 1994

 

I let pass without acknowledging to my only friend in the world, POKER, my beloved pop-eyed Siamese fighting fish, that yesterday was the 21st anniversary of the semi-great Northridge earthquake. I remember it was such a pretty day. At first I was fearful. Not then. Yesterday. Yesterday I was fearful that if I thought upon that day long ago I would fall into a blue grey melancholia. (Not really, I just felt like using that word.)

Alex Johns was up from San Diego to stay. We were young, smart, compassionate, talented, humble & very beautiful. Well gee whiz man, we were. This reminds me, Alex also used to say to me, “bragging isn’t pretty.” What the heck did that mean? I’ll never know. But we were happy to be together & that showed.

ALEX THEN

ME THEN

What did I tell ‘ya? Those were the good old days. All days past, present & future are the good old days … one day … some way or another … so these are the good old days too … come what may so they say … now … hmm … what was I just spewing forth about? Oh yes, the day the earth rattled the nerves of millions of people with lots of nerve.

Alex & me … were both gently bashed onto the floor from a mattress that was in the dining room because I was growing dope in my bedroom under two 1000 watt super metal halide bulbs.

We dressed quickly. The first thing we did was check on old lady Irene next door. She wasn’t phased in the slightest but I insisted on carrying her down to the street anyway. Five minutes later she wanted back up. She said she had enough so I carried her back up. She was almost 110 years old by then so I think she was kinda hoping the roof would cave in on her. Mainly because I suppose putting up with Richard (her gay pianist lover who was almost as old as she was) for so long had made her suicidal.

Irene was a piece of cake to haul around though. She weighed 20 grams if that, so it was no effort on my part. I should of tossed her into the hills. That would have been the time to do it but I was preoccupied with getting to trolling the neighborhood expectantly searching for mangled & bloodied corpses. Irene lucked out that time. I loved her like crazy though. If she were still alive she’d be close to 300 years old.  I miss her still.

Alex & I went driving around looking for someone to help. Yeah, that’s right, help, sure. But everybody was fine … (damn it) … around us anyway. The only thing though, there wasn’t any electricity. You couldn’t watch the news or a good VHS porno on the boob tube, which is how I would have preferred to have spent that day. And you couldn’t get money from ATM’S … if you had any. We had a little sum on us; five grand at least & some change if I recall. Pocket money. Dope was a great business back then & it showed.

… Almost like out of a Twilight Zone episode, MEL’S DINER down the block up on Sunset boulevard was the only place in all of LA opened. I suppose they had a generator. Or they had made yet another pact with Satan as most folks on Sunset Boulevard do every day. “They did cook good omelets & stews & we might have stayed on with them there but our hearts cried out for you, California.”

Grateful & amused. More lucky then anything else. Not too many people had a warm breakfast that morning. And MEL’S was the place to be seen that day. But who cared really, we didn’t. Well, EVANGELINE obviously did but she deserved to be seen any time she wanted. So we had us some good  Beluga caviar (farm raised in New jersey) omelets with diced palm tree shoots & lots of strong coffee then split.

EVANGELINE

What a great day that was. We had a lot of fun. I know some people were crushed to death that day, which is not funny, but everyday some people were getting crushed to death in LA. Nothing new. You wanna know something true? Everyday was a great day when Alex was still alive, every single day because he was astonishing, simply astonishing. No shit, Sherlock.