Daye 66 / It's A Fine Day

it's a fine day
people open windows
they leave their houses
just for a short while
they walk by the grass
and they look at the grass
they look at the sky
it's going to be a fine night tonight
it's going to be a fine day tomorrow
da da da da
da da da da da
da da da da da
da da da da da da
mmmm
na na na na na na
na na na na na
sitting in this field
i remember how we were going to sit in this field
but never quite did
rain or appointments or something
sitting in this field
i remember how we were going to sit in this field
but never quite did
rain or appointments or something
rain or appointments
mmmm
mmmm
mmmm
it's a fine day
people open windows
they leave their houses
just for a short while
they walk by the grass
and they look at the grass
they look at the sky
it's going to be a fine night tonight
it's going to be a fine day tomorrow
we will have salad
~ Edward Barton

Daye 65 / Metatron

archangel metatron
the highest of the angels
most heavenly scribe
thou describeth the deeds of all mankind
archangel metatron
whom god placed on a throne
next to the throne of glory
archangel metatron
struck willingly with god's wands of fire
to prove his sovereignty over thee
indeed there are not two powers above
archangel metatron
whose flesh is flame
whose veins are fire
whose eyelashes are flashes of lightning
whose eyeballs are as flaming torches
archangel metatron
who daily transmits the orders of god
to the angels gabriel and sammael
archangel metatron
twin brother to sandalphon
archangel metatron
who once was enoch
descendant of adam
metatron
archangel of the physical
archangel metatron
you are a youth and also have aged
archangel metatron
guardian of the infant moses on the nile river
archangel metatron
he of seventy names
archangel metatron
who enters the womb
to teach the embryo all possible wisdom
but then pinches together its lips
to create a philtrum
a moment before birth
causing it to forget all it has learned

Daye 64 / Into This Dirty Reality

i will birth myself into this dirty reality
via a microscopic tear in it's fabric
i will ride the folds and the spaces
and my beam-memory® will flicker
but it will never extinguish
it just continues to flicker
while reality imprints itself into the slums and palaces
oh lord protect us from the dark stuff
and other things besides
i will never leave this city
or leave this city
for even a second
for even a minute

i will seal myself into this grim flat
with candle wax
i will light the candle with this last match
and the flame will flicker
but it will never extinguish
it just carries on flickering
while the wax is dripping
i will spread it around the edges of the windows and doors
it will keep out the bad air
and lots of other things besides
it will keep me on the inside
i will not go outside again
into the city
or into the city

i will crawl into the bed
of the girl who lives here with me
i will cover her in passionate kisses
and she will flicker
but she will never extinguish
she just continues to flicker
while my cold lips kiss her
i will feel around the edges of the room
to check for growth
and lots of other things besides
but i will never climb out of this bed again
to leave this room
or leave this room

i will enter deep into her mind
through a small incision in her left temple
i will wander around naked in the golden light
and the light may flicker
but it will never extinguish
it will continue to flicker
for i love and adore her
i will feel around the edges of the universe
to check for starchanges
and other things besides
but i will never leave her mind
until the end of time
or to the end of time

Daye 63 / The Red Telephone

sitting on a hillside
watching all the people die
i'll feel much better on the other side
i'll thumb a ride
i believe in magic
why? because it is so quick
i don't need power when I'm hypnotized
look in my eyes
what are you seeing
how do you feel?
i feel real phony when my name is phil or was that bill?
life goes on here day after day
i don't know if I am living or if i'm supposed to be
sometimes my life is so eerie
and if you think I'm happy paint me white/yellow
i've been here once
i've been here twice
i don't know if the third's the fourth or if
the fifth's to fix
sometimes I deal with numbers
and if you wanna count me
count me out
i don't need the times of the day
anytime with me's okay
i just don't want you using up my time
'cause that's not right
ahh....
they're locking them up today
they're throwing away the key
i wonder who it'll be tomorrow
you or me?
we're all normal
and we want our freedom
freedom
freedom
freedom
freedom
freedom
freedom
freedom
freedom
all of god's children gotta have their freedom
~Arthur Lee

Daye 62 / Stuffed Nasturtium Blossoms

stuffed nasturtium blossoms made from
capers
cream cheese
and pesticide-free nasturtiums for breakfast
a whisper comes from a corner of the city
look at this look at this
like a fool i drop everything and i come running...
somebody just caught macropinna microstoma
a fish with a transparent head which lives in the pacific ocean
in the bay of bengal a young fisherwoman hauls in an umbrellamouth gulper eel
''it's mouth is so loosely hinged that it can swallow an animal larger than itself..'' she laughs
it swallows the fisherwoman whole
a crowd of gloaters gather around the bloated eel
as it thrashes about on the jetty
it thrashes about so much that it's long whip-like tail is tied into a dozen knots
there's a kind of commotion
people can't decide what to do
''shall we try to free the devoured fisherwoman?'' they ask me
i shrug my shoulders
''..or unknot the eel's tail and throw it back into the sea?...''
i walk into a city in the desert
two men and a woman approach me
the woman looks deep into my eyes
''you can use these ants
as a hallucinogenic... they're california harvesters...
but you have to swallow them alive...'' she says
i grimace
''er, thanks but no thanks!.."
then as some sort of explanation
''...i'm a vegetarian!''
i lie down under the hot sun in the shade of some large red rocks
and i dream about rachael biggs: model by day and human sushi platter by night
and spongebob squarepants
and charlotte perkins gilmans florid yellow wallpaper
and arthur machen
and quantum mechanics
and φ the golden ratio
and dimethylene tryptamine blacklight lanterns & acid
and the invaders 'nightmare' & the forbidden planet
and the nylon man: he melted at 263°C
and the moki snake dance which brings on the rainy season
and natural harvest: a collection of semen-based recipes by fotie photenhauer
did you know that the natural world has an instinct to alter consciousness?
and that multiple wasp stings are known to induce mildly hallucinogenic effects
such as increasing the intensity of colours and the perception of geometric forms
and i dream about orgone
and wilhelm reich and his son
john dee
nikola tesla
and david elieser deutsch
and mihail kalatozov
to err is human...to forgive is not our policy: the massachusetts institute of technology assassins guild
reality and hyperreality: is there a difference?
and then i dream about home
flowery fields
and lark hill
and the bollin valley
and the river m
and bowdon
and goosey green
and C.o.M.
and the stange matter hypothesis
and the strange language of the pirahã
and the schwarzgerät
and wabi-sabi
and george shipman talking to an imaginary martian
and egyptian hieroglyphs linear b and the eldritch glyphs of the maya
and sabbatai zevi publically uttering the forbidden YHVH
and the golem arising to defend the jewish ghetto's of prague during the 16th century pogroms
and language which is just a virus from outer space
and a planeload of rabbis and mystics hold an airborne prayer meeting over C.o.M.
in the belief that it will help check the spread of swine flu
and robert clarke's the hideous sun demon is playing to an empty house
and so is my father's piano
and then i dream der maya tapestrie
and there was a crack in his head
and a little bit of the dark world came through
and pressed him to death
and i dream of k & b & d
and harin starkje
and hitch underleary lucy molloy and mex
and i wonder where they are at this moment
and bid is in his studio under the stairs
with his collection of guitars & basses & moogs & jupiter-8's
and brion's in his big white house on tempest drive
and chris cult is always searching in vain
for something that's been right under his nose all along
and then i dream of st b who is always around anyway
and nicky bonfire
and aurora & wlw
and páll & kristin
and marc & june bolan
and the dawn star
and syd
and arthurly
and bob calvert
and lennon & harrison
and sky sunlight saxon
and the girl up a tree on a swing
and licorice
and the swan girl
and that girl from dream #17544
and little miss nowhere
and just another field but what they planted there
and caz the psykick hit(wo)man
and the blue pig
and little sue in st albans
and mandy
and our lady of the lights
and a being with five billion mouths
billy pilgrim unstuck in time
klarkash-ton stranded in greenland-hyperborea
and what about determinism
do we have a free will?
and writers don't own their words
since when do words belong to anybody
i dream about an old old man
who practises divination by interpreting dreams
and my dreams are becoming like films
i just sit back and watch as the stories unfold
the images come and go
and the old man's granddaughter is an obscure artist
she performed once with annie sprinkle
in the legend of the ancient sacred prostitute
and i dream of quantum immortality and the mwi
and i'm sitting beneath the branches of holy yggdrasil
there appears three maidens deep in the knowledge
and the magus zoroaster meets his doppelgänger walking in the garden
comes running to me for help
and all i can do is to point him in the direction of the three maidens
and i meet a small boy who thinks i'm his mother
i have her face he says
and i must give it back if i am not her
but i turn into a bird and fly off over the water
and then over the border into alejandrina
and i enter the library there
it's full of cobwebs
there's dust everywhere
i can't find the book i want
or the exit
and time is pressing
and i feel as if I have already died
and am now living a posthumous existence
and everything is temporary
and what if i wasn't there in the physical
until the three of you dreamed me into being
and i awake years later in the cave of the seven sleepers
and i am walking down artists lane
and it's so stormy up here
as i walk out onto stormy point
the storm nymphs are dancing barefoot under the dark sky
the lemonades are dancing barefoot in the meadows
and johnny echols cuts loose on his 'lectric guitar
drowns out my words
and i have been moved from my office in the city
to one that looks identical but is in an unfamiliar suburb
something is afoot: my boss and the rest of the staff work at both locations
and something is in the trees...it's coming
and i'm climbing a mountain made of gold
and i plant my flag on the summit
and i've been to the moon
stepped across the sea of rains and the sea of serenity
and i saw behind the moon
saw further than i ever saw before
and something is in the hills...i could hear it stirring
and then somebody finds a neolithic map of mars carved into stones
buried beneath the grasslands of cerrigydrudion
which leads us to believe that it was once covered by a vast ocean
but the map has been discovered ten thousand years too early
mars is arid and the machines which will flood the planet have yet to be invented
but nobody knows this
except you and i
and the nature of time is this:
it is passing and it is passing and it is passing
and the nature of space is this:
it is here and it is here and it is here
and the nature of reality is this:
it is hidden and it is hidden and it is hidden

Daye 61 / The Celestial Tree

Daye 60 / Say I Am You

i am dust particles in sunlight
i am the round sun
to the bits of dust i say stay
to the sun keep moving
i am morning mist
and the breathing of evening
i am wind in the top of a grove
and surf on the cliff
mast rudder helmsman and keel
i am also the coral reef they founder on
i am a tree with a trained parrot in its branches
silence thought and voice
the musical air coming through a flute
a spark of stone
a flickering in metal
both candle
and the moth crazy around it
rose and the nightingale lost in the fragrance
i am all orders of being
the circling galaxy
the evolutionary intelligence
the lift and the falling away
what is and what isn't
you who know jelaluddin
you the one in all
say who i am
say i am you
~ Rumi (Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi)

Daye 58 / Soon I Will Feel I Will Feel O I Will Feel

soon i will feel i will feel o i will feel the lights of the noon across my hands and i will be a small blue shadow moving silently amongst the fields.

the summer begins to float away and i give to you all of my starry dreamings and imaginings. i take them in my arms and i throw them into the fields. into the seas that surround us.

i steel myself against the karma that is due.

and i meet you that night. o i meet you that night under the elf-lights. you were a small face shining beneath a tall tree in the blue wood. i remember the long moonlit walk through the shapes and colours. o the shapes and the colours. through the leas and lanes. and come the morning. asleep in the dawn. o dew falling. o river roaring. i have burned within my mind. within my mind your image.

and i am down and you are over. but i hear you singing. i leap across. across the void into the unknown. o the unknown.

into the spaces marked only with x’s on the map at university heights. calling for my brilliant angel to be here. o be here. to illuminate my way.

i have called for my mother but she slowly suffocates me in her arms. i have called for another.

and the material has been my god. i have laid down in the tall grasses. o the tall grasses. and cried for that which i cannot have.

i played unfair and the winter encases me in ice but i am ready to thaw.

i have dreamed the key to the metareal and pulled it out of the hollow of an old tree.

“now you must be reborn into the body of a crocodile” says the puck who showered me once with scarlet poppy petals.

and i am back in the egg. small and helpless. and my second-sight has deserted me.

Daye 57 / Come Now My Child...

Daye 56 / Corn Rigs (The Rigs O' Barley)

it was upon a lammas night
when corn rigs are bonnie
beneath the moon's unclouded light
i held away to annie
the time flew by with careless heed
till 'tween the late and early
with small persuasion she agreed
to see me through the barley
corn rigs and barley rigs
and corn rigs are bonnie
i'll ne'er forget that happy night
among the rigs with annie
the sky was blue
the wind was still
the moon was shining clearly
i set her down with right good will,
among the rigs o' barley
i kenned her heart was all my own
i loved her most sincerely
i kissed her over and over again
among the rigs o' barley
corn rigs and barley rigs
and corn rigs are bonnie
i'll ne'er forget that happy night
among the rigs with annie
i locked her in my fond embrace
her heart was beating rarely
my blessings on that happy place
among the rigs o' barley
but by the moon and stars so bright
that shone that hour so clearly
she aye shall bless that happy night
among the rigs o' barley.
corn rigs and barley rigs
and corn rigs are bonnie
i'll ne'er forget that happy night
among the rigs with annie
i have been blythe with comrades dear
i have been merry drinking
i have been joyful gathering gear
i have been happy thinking
but all the pleasures ever I saw
though three times doubled fairly
that happy night was worth them all
among the rigs o' barley
corn rigs and barley rigs
and corn rigs are bonnie
i'll ne'er forget that happy night
among the rigs with annie
~ Robert Burns

Daye 55 / D.M.T. Entity

Daye 54 / The Man Who Drew Cats

Daye 53 / It's Always Wet In P.a.u.l.'s Room

the mist was coming off the lake
as i caught hold of the rocket's tail
and it pulled me into the sky
rolling so i could see underneath
m15's greenish smear
spreading itself below
and the wind stings my eyes
beneath the dazzle of white stars
i heard myself singing
as i sped forward
some sweet song
which you had placed in my mind
the words made me sleepy
and the melody began to run away from me
like droplets rushing down a window in a summer rain

we fly into a cloud
a cloud
a cloud put there by the military
filled with crystals of strange ice
nothing that was warm lived in there
nothing living lived in there
and we left as fast as we entered
as the rocket began to come apart
as the cloud begins to come apart
turning to
turning to water
water
to water
falling to earth

there is no wind where the riverruns
into the cold grey foaming sea
and the fog rises up and outwards
like the sheet ghost
in whistle and i'll come to you, m'lad
scintillating jewels hang from your necklace
the light that flickers
on/off on/off
is the city beneath the surface of the mythological sea
ruby red arising
and lascivious green
a blacklight lantern
which i hold in a dream
makes shadows which criss-cross the water
to the source of the lights
in freefall i cry out
for that dream-lantern once more
though my lungs were beginning to give up
'cos i was flying so hard
i was flying so hard
and humming harder
hmmmmmmm
oh all the saints
oh, the saints preserve us
that god-given beam of light
launchs me up
out of the seafog
and on into the stratosphere

and the stars enlarged
but they came too soon
all the while my belly ached from laughing
like a poetess i was getting all of this down
word for word
my mind for once swollen with the knowing
inky black innerspace invading the outerspace
my rocket dials hitched
a flick of a switch
and i am holding on for dear life
said my goodbye
said my goodbye
goodbye
now you can sit and watch
as i burn-up
as i burn-up on re-entry

uh, i'm back
watery wet
wet
this room is
always wet
through the window the stars are dripping
and the moon is a milky bubble
and i have remembered my self
and i was humming like an angel

the man from the government contacts me
as soon as all the dreamtime summer festivals are over
he has a kosmiche fever
star-stuff oozing from every pore
he asks me questions
and tells me i have something that belongs to him
i lie and try to hide the lantern
while it does it's best to give me away
and so the man leaves
returns moments later
with a couple of heavies
but i am not taken in
by promises or threats
begin to hum to myself
i fool them into believing
i would give them the lantern
until at the last minute i thrust my hand
into a secret panel in the wall
where the lantern is hidden
and flick the little switch
ha! the humming and
the beam of light
launch me up and out of there

harin says my house is always dreaming
always dreaming
and that it has things living in it that only we can see
she has no fear of the future
for she can remember exactly what will happen when and to whom
and now that the soft soft night is here at last
singing to us
and the stars are revolving in their heavenly firmament
far enough away so as to gently oscillate
she calls up a solar wind
an hour or two of sweet irradiation
and the words
the melody
the gush into being
the pristine long lick of a song
which i hold onto like a dream

the men have tracked me
i see them
out the corners of my eye
at night they try to break into my dreams
they covet the song as much as the lantern
so the whole of my existence
has been falsified
declassified documents fall into my hands
and then mysteriously disappear
this is a war between realities
the psychedelic christ is here
stooping to conquer
with mind-expanding drugs and miracles

harin is in a dead faint
all she could see was everything
and the boys the boys
the boys were looking to me for leadership
i had snuffed out my lantern
and i was dripping with the bright
by the time harin's swoon was over
and she had alighted
those government men were rolling their heads
against the breasts of their joyless girls
one by one they dropped their fronts
and it made me smile
watching those silly young things
pretending to be
pretending to be
something they would never be
just reminded me of me
when i was...
when i was...
still too feint
still too feint
to get my mojo working

ah, but now it's 2010 or 3019
or whatever year it is
's all the same to me
dates make no
make no difference
we are plugged into something
something that is not time extant
we are ready for it
we belong together
reality is melting
as fast as the useless plastic and chrome that fills our homes
time slips
the city shakes
my blacklight lantern still glows
even as the aether jumps like a fish in boiling water
and the heavens split open
the prophets are driving us all insane
with their endless yabbering
dust
invisibility
we all know that nothing is real except maya

i'm the original doubting thomas
my lantern in my arms
through the ceilings we fly
and i still don't believe
i have to put my fingers
directly into the crack in his head
to massage his pineal
to convince myself that it is really...
...him

he sighs
so, you have failed the acid test
says the psychedelic christ
did you dream me in the past?
if not, then why should you no longer believe?
blessed are they that have not seen
and yet have believed

my freaked out voice
and undertuned guitar were long gone
i gazed into his eyes
and they were low blue spirals
"it's funny how things can change
in just a few millenia
once i turned water into wine
now i must turn water into...
into...
into ayahuasca
...dmt
...acid.." he sighed
"i have become little more than a pusher..."
i thought then of patti smith
and the stars twinkled in the noir crayola field that we call sky
and i tripped and dropped my hand in his

here 'tis
do i feel it coming
here 'tis
i feel it coming
illuminate my daye
ah, give me back my grace
help me come to my senses
like a dreamer
like a bird
like a dancer
like a child
no longer can i live in the dark
my mind is flooded
like nuvoletta
i reflect myself in the mirror
though the heavenly one
with his constellatria and his emanations
stood between

the sun rises
the universe is an automaton
i get out of my bed
the floor is wet
the day is already folding in on itself
i see geodesics through my window
in the fried green fields
cloud nines and mellotron flutes
auroras and snowstorms
seeing and hearing everything at once
and i'm trying hard
still humming
i will travel to the isle of apples
i must find him her again
i reach for my lantern
but today there is no lantern
just this beam of light
which launches me up and through the roof

Daye 52 / The Astral Body

Daye 51 / Nuvoletta

nuvoletta in her lightdress
spunn of sisteen shimmers
was looking down on them
leaning over the bannistars
and listening all she childishly could

she was alone
all her nubied companions
were asleeping with the squirrels
she tried all the winsome wonsome ways
the four winds had taught her
she tossed her sfumastelliacinous hair
like la princesse de la petite bretagne
and she rounded her mignons arms
like mrs. cornwallis-west
and she smiled over herself
like the image of a pose of a daughter
of the emperour of irelande
and she sighed after herself
as were she born to bride with tristus
tristior tristissimus
but sweet madonine she might fair as well
have carried her daisy's worth to florida

oh, how it was duusk!
from vallee maraia to grasyaplainia
dormimust echo
a dew! ah dew! it was so duusk
that the tears of night began to fall
first by ones and twos
then by threes and fours
at last by fives and sixes of sevens
for the tired ones were wecking
as we weep now with them
o! o! o! par la pluie!

then nuvoletta reflected for the last time
in her little long life
and she made up all her myriads
of drifting minds in one
she cancelled all her engauzements
she climbed over the bannistars
she gave a childy cloudy cry
nuée! nuée!
a lightdress fluttered
she was gone
~ James Joyce

Daye 50 / The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner

Daye 49 / He Has Found The Point Where Heaven And Earth Meet...

Daye 48 / Wings

day by day
the moon gains on me
day by day
the moon gains on me
purchased a pair of flabby wings
i took to doing some hovering
here is a list
of incorrect things
hovered mid-air outside a study
an academic kneaded his chin
sent in the dust of some cheap magazines
his academic rust could not burn them up
i recruited some gremlins
to get me clear of the airline routes
i paid them off with stuffing from my wings
they had some fun with those cheapo airline snobs
the stuffing loss made me hit a time-lock
i ended up in the eighteen sixties
i’ve been there for one hundred and twenty five years
a small alteration of the past
can turn time into space
ended up under ardwick bridge
with some veterans from the u.s. civil war
they were under irish patronage
we shot dead a stupid sergeant
but I got hit in the crossfire
the lucky hit made me hit a time-lock
but when I got back
the place I made the purchase
no longer exists
i’d erased it under the bridge
day by day
the moon gains on me
day by day
the moon gains on me
so now I sleep in ditches
and hide away from nosey kids
the wings rot and feather under me
the wings rot and curl right under me
a small alteration of the past
can turn time into space
small touches can alter
more than a mere decade
wings
wings
wings...
~ Mark E. Smith

Daye 47 / I Dream I See You Endlessly Superimposed Upon Yourself

i dream i see you endlessly superimposed upon yourself
you're sitting on the high coral stool
In front of your mirror
always in its first quarter
two fingers on the water wing of your comb
and at the same time
you're returning from a journey
you're lingering
the last one left in the grotto
streaming with lightning
you don't recognize me
you're stretched out on the bed
you wake up or you fall asleep
you wake up where you went to sleep or somewhere else
you're naked
the elderberry ball bounces again
a thousand elderberry balls hum above you
so light that at each instant you're unaware of them
your breath
your blood
saved from the crazy juggling of the air
you cross the street
the cars hurled at you are nothing but their shadows
and as a little girl
caught in a bellows of sparkles
you jump rope
long enough so that the one green butterfly
which haunts the peaks of Asia
can appear at the top of the invisible stairway
i caress everything that was you
in everything that's yet to be you
i hear the melodious hissing
of your limitless limbs
the one serpent in all the trees
your arms at whose center the crystal of the compass rose turns
my living fountain of shivas
~ Andre Breton

Daye 46 / The Song Of Shadows

sweep thy faint strings, musician
with thy long lean hand
downward the starry tapers burn
sinks soft the waning sand
the old hound whimpers
couched in sleep
the embers smoulder low
across the walls the shadows
come and go

sweep softly thy strings, musician
the minutes mount to hours
frost on the windless casement weaves
a labyrinth of flowers
ghosts linger in the darkening air
hearken at the open door
music hath called them, dreaming
home once more
~ Walter de la Mare

Daye 45 / Flying Saucers Rock 'N' Roll

i
The sheets were soaking
wet pajama tops sticking to hot belly
i rolled over and jimmied my flashlight
from its safety slot between the mattress and the boxspring
ha! my belly was still a deep prickly pink
it burned my hand just to touch
i pressed the flashlight into my palm to make
a red x-ray halo 'round my fingers
i leaned over the bed to fish for my tuning fork
and my stethoscope
but the sudden movement made me dizzy
i tried to get my thoughts moving in a cold stream
so i could tell them everything when they got home
logic was moving in a wave of blue glass balls
the bed was wet
my hair was damp
but my body was still hot
it meant i didn't sweat the fever out
it might mean a warm tea enema later on
that slick tube up my bottom
the atmosphere was falling apart
amoeba shapes started rushing
where was my raygun?

someone was in my bedroom
it wasn't mommy cause they were still at the hospital
it was something female like the amana refrigerator lady
only with the silky red face of a fox
her big head rocked
no flash at all beamed from her glass eyes
she was offering up a tray of gleaming objects
miniature diver's tools
luminous disks
and a black plastic whistle the shape of a cigar
there were sharp hairy jewels and headphones connected with the source of the music
the low fender whine
but I went for that whistle
my mouth was all shiny and burny
i could barely puff 'cause i was crying so hard but i tried and tried 'til i did
and the shine pulled me right out of the heat into cool greyfalling back into a sea of black curtain.

stefanie died
they came home real late
their eyes were red from crying but not as red as my belly
like a true child I was sinister enough to interrupt their grief by discharging symptoms
belly smeared with pin pricks
sickly sulphur ooze and the fear of littered space behind my eyes
the doctor said it was scarlet fever
i knew better
he quarantined me
and sister had to look at me thru a telescope

time warped
my dresses shrunk
it was 1957
stefanie was dead
rock 'n' roll was rising and I had seen my first ufo
it was shaped like an eleven-year-old girl with colorless eyes.

they gave me her comic books and her iceskates but I wouldn't touch them
they had her yellow energy spread all over them
i just laid there sliding my fingers around my whistle
it had a real comforting texture like the back of a boy's neck
i laid there for years
the sheets developed the spinal eye they used to call my back
i laid there and listened for that future music
to lull me outta this separate limbo called childhood

ii
mama said i was born old
i always had this absolute swagger about the future
and a morbid foto-recall of the past
i could remember exactly how it felt in the womb
snow was falling
jimi hendrix was singing are you experienced?
i was turning on a spit in a sea of vomit cleanser
a wall of sound intoxicating rhythm
and as close as my face
a breath
a session of hesitation
and the bells
the troops
the 21-gun salute
the push into promise
and that first long animal cry of love like a fender whine

destiny plagued me
i never slept
I laid
and watched the night unravel like the future
music crystallized like snowflakes
gradually the entire storm
guitar necks sticking out of the ground like bayonets
the war between sounds
alexander coming to conquer with a fender and a saucer
i knew it was coming and I wanted to be in on it
i knew it came and went and i wasn't in on it.

i was at this party
all I knew was james brown and somebody put on "third stone from the sun"
everybody was looking at me
so I pulled out my whistle
the one shaped like a cigar with black pick-ups
by the end of "foxy lady" it was pure amp damage
they were banging their pates into the plaster but i was laughing hysterically
the ones who ripped their wigs fascinated me the most
to watch these bald and slick comet shapes rushing the walls
it reminded me of something
but i was too giddy to get my mind shining
i wasn't in on it
wasn't in on it
i couldn't stand it
i wasn't born to be a spectator

it was 1966 '67 '68
every place i went it was somebody else
i could-not-live-today
too plugged into sanguine rhythms past and the silver video we call future
here i come future
coming to get ya
i see it all moving on an immense yellow highway
they come on like trumpets and violins
cars
armies of cars that move off the ground
glowing cigar shapes
and the radio just pumps like a fist
brick roads
turnpikesthey drive me insane 'cause I can see what's coming
elp
elo
nothing real 'cept ufo
got to be royal rock warfare cause it's sitting in limbo
not what was and not what will be
rock got to move out of its stagnant moment
pray for something bubbling under the sky's canopy to rip open and rush like gas

i was the same old party
i put the whistle on the tray
it went reeling
It was happening again
i was overcome but it didn't matter
i just did what the rest of my gggg-generation did
didn't duck heads up and get creamed by the '60s
everything that happened it was somebody else.

"this your wristwatch?"
"no"
"you an artist by any chance?"
"no"
"freelance?"
"no"

no-no-no-no-monotonous bells long bong
i looked at jimi hendrix's hands
they were so immense they could push a face thru wax
etch and spear spinal stars in the noir crayola field we call sky
'scuse me!
i tripped and dropped my hand in his
it la la la landed like an insect nest and all the red wire spiders jabbed in his flesh like g-strings
it was easy to transform everything into guitar strings
hair
grass
fingers illuminated calligraphy
everything was something else
a sound was a room
a spongy layer of flesh
a trampoline of tissue
rubberish tissue
a laugh
a kiss . . .

i had to get out
i got to get out
i got out
trunk up the used drapery
gonna be a new party
children will go to the party
roll down a snowbank
eject a floodlight and the new experience will be totally ecstatic
someone's destiny will be his diver's tool that makes the incision in his chest and relax his fist over the heart and
pump it pump it thru the veins of space
the soul-ar radio breaking into snowflake light
hammering harmonics from the heart of a boy with colorless eyes
whose neck is the texture of the back of a whistle

blow-blow
the diaphragm is such-a-kinky machine
i got to get out of bed
the walls are damp and the masking tape is curling
magazine pictures of stratacasters
telecasters
jazz masters and ariel views of saucer-shaped pits slide to the floor
coffee
cigarettes
the moves of mama early in the morning
i water the cactus
from my sixth floor window I can see another window
a boy is smiling and to my right no clouds, no sun, no stones, no nothing
just a host of black cigar shapes whining in the pink skin sky
~ Patti Smith

Daye 44 / Shoes

summer this year is so hot
C.o.M. is melting
and i'm lying on the lawn
of my parents garden
and this song about somebody's shoes
is coming at me from out of the radio
the deejay talks over the intro
i can't tell whether it's a man
or a woman who's singing
because the pitching is 'funny'
and the music is so
dreamy heavenly churchly
that i have to stop what i’m doing
and just listen
i put down the comic
i had been reading a moment before
i close my eyes
and oh, here comes another of those
little daydreams
then i notice that the song
isn't about shoes
it's about a wedding
and something isn't quite right with the celebrations...
the lyrics take a weird turn
the singer is singing about how the bride’s mother
'..didn't give her abuse...'
because
'...she didn't forget her shoes'

now my stomach is churning and
my little back-garden daydream
is beginning to turn bad
the beat grows a little more frantic
the song turns all hurdy gurdy
a bouzouki and a harspsichord appear out of thin air
the music is becoming wilder
and i am as intoxicated
as the guests at the wedding must be
i want to join them
to join in the frolicking
the groom is getting
'..a glance from the other girls'
and i can feel that something
sexual is about to happen
but i haven't discovered
exactly what sexual is yet
so i can only guess
why those other girls are smiling
as johnny picks up his bride
off they go together
to make love
while music fills the air...

the throbbing hurdy gurdy
cuts to a piano
and an angelic choir
i wonder whether
my own wedding day will be as strange
as the one in this song
it will be but i don't know that yet
the angelic choirs have disappeared
i’m not sure that i haven’t
just dreamed the whole song
am i awake?
a fuzzy guitar is buzzing in my ear
like an irritated bee
the beat returns
the wedding guests are still dancing madly
everything is out of control
i open my eyes and i look down
the lawn looks funny
somebody is playing a harpsichord again
but it sounds far too close-up
to be coming from the radio
i look up
the blue sky looks too blue
too far away
and here comes the choir
the children at the wedding
are lalalalalala-ing
into the songs conclusion
and the stupid deejay is talking
over the fade
but i can't hear what he's saying anyway
because the radio is crackling
i just manage to catch the singers name
as a rumble of thunder
sounds in the distance
i repeat it like a mantra
over and over under my breath
syllable by syllable
rep-ah-rah-ta
rep-ah-rah-ta
rep-ah-rah-ta
even the singer's name sounds like a hallucination

Daye 43 / The Stratospheric Colossus Of Sound

Daye 42 / The Navigator

Daye 41 / The Greenfly And The Rose

all good things must end
the straightest rose will bend
its colours droop and wilt
just like a love affair
the pink sensation fades
the sterling silver fades
the virgo and blue moon
soon they're just wrinkled things
the baccara
the flame red superstar
forever yours
a rose called peace
for at night the aphids dream
a microlocust's dream
they eat the world alive
and there's not a morsel left
they eat the jungle leaves
consume the wheatfield sheafs
they eat the flowers and plants
they eat their stalks as well
as their tiny jaws
munch on planet cores
their complex eyes
examine the skies
they eat the cumuli marshmallow of the sky
they eat away the blue
and they eat the sun and moon
they swallow all the stars
and both the moons of mars
they lick the plate of space
they lick their lips as well
the baccara
the flame red superstar
forever yours
a rose called peace
the greenfly and the rose
~ Robert Calvert

Daye 40 / A Quaint Old Bretagne Ballad

this lady was neither pig nor maid
and so she was not of the human mould
not of the living nor the dead
her left hand and foot were warm to touch
her right as cold as a corpse’s flesh
and she would sing like a funeral bell
with a ding-dong tune

the pigs were afraid
and viewed her aloof
and women feared her and stood afar
she could do without sleep
for a year and a day
she could sleep like a corpse
for a month and more
no one knew how this lady fed
on acorns or on flesh

some say that she’s one of the swine-possessed
that swam over the sea of gennesaret
a mongrel body and a demon soul
some say she’s the wife of the wandering jew
and broke the law for the sake of pork
and a swinish face for a token doth bear
that her shame is now
and her punishment coming
~ J. Sheridan Le Fanu

Daye 39 / Ode To Billy Joe

when i was a little kid
my dad had this bobbie gentry cassette
and i remember playing
'ode to billy joe'
over and over and over
the opening lines of the first verse
('it was the third of june,
another sleepy dusty delta day...')
made me feel woozy
and by the time
bobbie gets to the line about
billy joe jumping off the tallahatchie bridge
i felt like i was floating outside of my body
the song is desolate
a gothic classic
as a five-year old
even i recognized that the matter-of-fact way
in which the suicide is discussed over dinner
by the narrator's family
is not the norm
it made my skin crawl
and i wondered why the girls family
were oblivious to her pain
why they had no idea
that billy joe was her 'secret' lover
and i worried whether her parents
really cared about her
and the more i thought
about that question
the more i began to worry
whether my own parents
really cared about me
it became my obsession
it shook me
i withdrew
questioned everything
looked for signs in the things
that happened around me
i hated to be away from my home
or from my parents
in case i returned to find
everything or everybody changed
i went over the lyrics in my head
searching for something that i may have missed
for a clue or a reassurance
i imagined i could travel back in time
to affect the outcome of the song
billy joe would be saved
and he and the girl could live happily ever after
i tried
i tried prayer
but the song’s outcome never changed
billy joe always jumped off the tallahatchie bridge
and his girl was always left
to spend the rest of her life pickin' flowers on choctaw ridge
and as for myself
i could never bear to imagine
what it was that billy joe
& the girl
had thrown from the bridge
i had been traumatised by a pop song
and it wouldn’t be the last time