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Yeah, so I got nothing
Last night, I realized I needed a poem to turn in for workshop and didn't have anything in presentable order.
This was at, oh, eleven-ish.
Five hours later, I had something strange and lifted from a bunch of places and weirdly formatted and simultaneously the most abstract and the most concrete poem I've ever written.
It's in need of massive revisions, mostly for language, because I think I like most of the experimental rhythm and form and am going to keep it relatively intact.
Anyway, I'm pasting it in here because I'm terrified that I'll lose it somehow and it's about five solid hours of writing. Yeah, I don't know what this is.
Terzetto
to Edward “Son” House
[0.1.1 walking]
it’s just that sometimes
when you look too hard
the horizon disappears
and that sometimes
when you squint
all you see is the journey
This was at, oh, eleven-ish.
Five hours later, I had something strange and lifted from a bunch of places and weirdly formatted and simultaneously the most abstract and the most concrete poem I've ever written.
It's in need of massive revisions, mostly for language, because I think I like most of the experimental rhythm and form and am going to keep it relatively intact.
Anyway, I'm pasting it in here because I'm terrified that I'll lose it somehow and it's about five solid hours of writing. Yeah, I don't know what this is.
Terzetto
to Edward “Son” House
[0.1.1 walking]
it’s just that sometimes
when you look too hard
the horizon disappears
and that sometimes
when you squint
all you see is the journey
[0.1.2 you know god]
tell me who’s that writing
john the revelator
tell me who’s that writing
john the revelator
tell me who’s that writing
john the revelator
wrote the book of the seven seals
[0.2.1 cantata]
you ever notice how
you sing the blues to your momma
like she’s the only one
gonna understand
hear your warble and bend
and say honey, baby girl
you cry your heart out, child
forget about that man
you ever notice how
you sing the blues in the evening
like it’s the only time
that can watch you cry
hear your call to the sunset
and touch you like a lover
and bring the grace raw
clear as the sunburnt sky
you ever notice how
you sing the blues to your momma
you ever notice how
you sing the blues to your momma
cause honey
your momma’s the one
gonna understand
[1.1.1 hush]
it’s you and me, you know
you and me and ghost towns
desert sand like forever around us
I tap drum solos on the wheel
tip head back to the sun
hot like fever at my neck
fuckin, you say, kick the flat
just. fuckin.
ain’t been a car by in an hour.
road wavering, yellow lines
parallel into the shimmer
long as summer
s’okay, I say, yeah
and c’mon, man, sit
and we watch silence
and the heat-washed road
and tomorrow
[1.1.2 devil’s music]
the bible’s a good book to read
consisted of thirty-nine books in the old testament
twenty-seven in the new
twenty-seven and thirty-nine is sixty-six
from the genesis to the revelations
nothing in there about the southern stars
nothing in there about the night
nothing in there about the grey smoke bars
or the sting of knuckles split and white
don’t much think moses was a blues man
don’t much think jesus played guitar
don’t much think adam liked a smooth line
or ever tasted smoke from a cigar
not a single warning bout how want feels
not a single warning bout her thighs
not a single warning how your mind reels
or how the world around you swells and dies
nothing in there about the well of blood
nothing in there about the fear
nothing in there about the guilty flood
or why she never seems to want to hear
[1.2.1 kyrie]
lord have mercy
christ have mercy
lord have mercy (3x)
you say there ain’t an afterlife
but I hear different, where I come from
hear there’s salvation above
and damnation below
and maybe devils at the crossroads
who’ll trade your soul for a voice
as pure as the first rain of spring
as pure as the first burn of rye
as pure as the warm-slick blood on your hands
saw a mare foal once
like seeing an earthquake in a stall
lady bucking while I held her
pressed my face to her face
and whispered shh, baby, shh
while her eyes rolled like marbles
as wild as
wild
brought her baby to this world
kyrie
[2.1.1 up right close]
nothing more alive
than the desert night
slither-full, coyote howling
like he’s got something to prove
like he knows
something I can’t see
wasn’t your fault you say
it wasn’t, it was mine too
and I try to fold my tears
back under my eyelids
I know I say I know
door metal hot against my back
road sprawls in four directions
your shoulder against mine
your leg to my leg, you
sing went to the crossroads
got down on my knees
sing my insides coil-tight
yeah I say I know
your fingers tangle
with my fingers
and we watch nightfall
and the sunpainted desert
and tomorrow
[2.1.2 letter]
to whom it may concern:
it has been requested by interested parties that I stage a comeback.
y’all learn how to feel the blues first. and I’ll need a new guitar.
let a young man at a mississippi crossroads borrow my last one.
morning star
[2.2.1 john]
who’s that writing
you sing the blues to your momma
tell me who’s that writing
you sing the blues about your man
you tell me who’s that writing
you sing the blues to the long night
and let them drag your soul into the promised land
now tell me who’s that writing
don’t let me tell you not to cry, babe
who’s that writing
don’t let me break open your heart
now tell me who’s that writing
don’t let me tell you you’re all right, babe
on account of how I’ve sharpened lying to an art
who’s that writing
take me home and wash me clean, lord
who’s that writing
take me home and wash me clean
now tell me who’s that writing
take me home and wash me clean, lord
and never let the road-dust brown my face again
I’ve been to mississippi
I’ve been to new orleans
I’ve been to places distant
as a lover’s dreams
I’ve seen the ocean shiver
I’ve seen the sky split wide
I’ve seen the land as gnarled
as an old man’s pride
[3.1.1 epilogue]
the sand grits still
sun warm everywhere
hands your hands everywhere
fingers eyes and your body
and my body
and tomorrow
[amen]
tell me who’s that writing
john the revelator
tell me who’s that writing
john the revelator
tell me who’s that writing
john the revelator
wrote the book of the seven seals
[0.2.1 cantata]
you ever notice how
you sing the blues to your momma
like she’s the only one
gonna understand
hear your warble and bend
and say honey, baby girl
you cry your heart out, child
forget about that man
you ever notice how
you sing the blues in the evening
like it’s the only time
that can watch you cry
hear your call to the sunset
and touch you like a lover
and bring the grace raw
clear as the sunburnt sky
you ever notice how
you sing the blues to your momma
you ever notice how
you sing the blues to your momma
cause honey
your momma’s the one
gonna understand
[1.1.1 hush]
it’s you and me, you know
you and me and ghost towns
desert sand like forever around us
I tap drum solos on the wheel
tip head back to the sun
hot like fever at my neck
fuckin, you say, kick the flat
just. fuckin.
ain’t been a car by in an hour.
road wavering, yellow lines
parallel into the shimmer
long as summer
s’okay, I say, yeah
and c’mon, man, sit
and we watch silence
and the heat-washed road
and tomorrow
[1.1.2 devil’s music]
the bible’s a good book to read
consisted of thirty-nine books in the old testament
twenty-seven in the new
twenty-seven and thirty-nine is sixty-six
from the genesis to the revelations
nothing in there about the southern stars
nothing in there about the night
nothing in there about the grey smoke bars
or the sting of knuckles split and white
don’t much think moses was a blues man
don’t much think jesus played guitar
don’t much think adam liked a smooth line
or ever tasted smoke from a cigar
not a single warning bout how want feels
not a single warning bout her thighs
not a single warning how your mind reels
or how the world around you swells and dies
nothing in there about the well of blood
nothing in there about the fear
nothing in there about the guilty flood
or why she never seems to want to hear
[1.2.1 kyrie]
lord have mercy
christ have mercy
lord have mercy (3x)
you say there ain’t an afterlife
but I hear different, where I come from
hear there’s salvation above
and damnation below
and maybe devils at the crossroads
who’ll trade your soul for a voice
as pure as the first rain of spring
as pure as the first burn of rye
as pure as the warm-slick blood on your hands
saw a mare foal once
like seeing an earthquake in a stall
lady bucking while I held her
pressed my face to her face
and whispered shh, baby, shh
while her eyes rolled like marbles
as wild as
wild
brought her baby to this world
kyrie
[2.1.1 up right close]
nothing more alive
than the desert night
slither-full, coyote howling
like he’s got something to prove
like he knows
something I can’t see
wasn’t your fault you say
it wasn’t, it was mine too
and I try to fold my tears
back under my eyelids
I know I say I know
door metal hot against my back
road sprawls in four directions
your shoulder against mine
your leg to my leg, you
sing went to the crossroads
got down on my knees
sing my insides coil-tight
yeah I say I know
your fingers tangle
with my fingers
and we watch nightfall
and the sunpainted desert
and tomorrow
[2.1.2 letter]
to whom it may concern:
it has been requested by interested parties that I stage a comeback.
y’all learn how to feel the blues first. and I’ll need a new guitar.
let a young man at a mississippi crossroads borrow my last one.
morning star
[2.2.1 john]
who’s that writing
you sing the blues to your momma
tell me who’s that writing
you sing the blues about your man
you tell me who’s that writing
you sing the blues to the long night
and let them drag your soul into the promised land
now tell me who’s that writing
don’t let me tell you not to cry, babe
who’s that writing
don’t let me break open your heart
now tell me who’s that writing
don’t let me tell you you’re all right, babe
on account of how I’ve sharpened lying to an art
who’s that writing
take me home and wash me clean, lord
who’s that writing
take me home and wash me clean
now tell me who’s that writing
take me home and wash me clean, lord
and never let the road-dust brown my face again
I’ve been to mississippi
I’ve been to new orleans
I’ve been to places distant
as a lover’s dreams
I’ve seen the ocean shiver
I’ve seen the sky split wide
I’ve seen the land as gnarled
as an old man’s pride
[3.1.1 epilogue]
the sand grits still
sun warm everywhere
hands your hands everywhere
fingers eyes and your body
and my body
and tomorrow
[amen]
no subject
no subject
So, maybe I should upload that opera I've been composing and recording in my spare time, eh? :P
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no subject