Shadows in the rocks

 

I love music but can’t sing or play a note, but as I’ve sometimes said a rhythm or melody worms it’s way inside my head asking for some lyrics, so from time to time I attempt to write some lyrics, for better or worse…

 

Scratch armed bandit
Collecting junk at night
Trying to find a balance
Get himself feelin’ right
Running with his best friend
Baby girl in flight
Shooting powdered milk
In the darkness of the light

Shadow children
Shadow chill-ill-dren
If they live into their forties, they’ll be residing in a box
Hand in hand while tripping over the shadows of the rocks
Remembering the good times
Making money pulling cocks
Never see the brightness when you’re a shadow in the rocks

 

 

 

Beat up little urchin
Sneaking out the back
Satisfied Uncle Aaron
Still moaning in her sack
Never got invited
Still, he has a knack
Of using teenage sweeties
Afraid to tell the facts
Meets her superhero
Captain America on crack
Both sinking down the drain
Victims of the smack
They don’t need food or money
It’s life that really lacks

 

 

 

Shadow children
Shadow chill ill dren
If they live into their forties, they’ll be residing in a box
Hand in hand while tripping over the shadows of the rocks
Remembering the good times
Making money pulling cocks
Never see the brightness when you’re a shadow in the rocks

 

 

 

Sick of being tired and tired of being sick
Worshiping a dime bag turn another trick
If they make to their 40’s, they’ll be living in a box
Begging for a morsel as shadows of the rocks
From the bottom of the rocks
The wretched lonely rocks
Shadows of the alley smashing the bottom of the docks
Runaways forever shadows of the rocks

 

 

Everybody hates him
Wants to see him harmed
He needs to take his handgun
Just to stick it in his arm
A little girl abandoned searching for a friend
No one sees’s a child no one raises an alarm
She’s just a geisha of the poppy
Hiding from the storm
Hopes to be a grandma
But her life won’t last that long

Shadow children
Shadow chill ill dren
If they live into their forties, they’ll be residing in a box
Hand in hand while tripping over the shadows of the rocks
Remembering the good times
Making money pulling cocks
Never see the brightness when you’re a shadow of the rocks

 

 

Sick of being tired and tired of being sick

Worshiping a dime bag turn another trick

If they make to their 40’s, they’ll be living in a box
Begging for a morsel as shadows of the rocks
From the bottom of the rocks
The wretched lonely rocks
Shadows of the alley smashing the bottom of the docks
Runaways forever shadows of the rocks

 

 

Carlos and The Age Of Aquarius (A cryptic mythic revelation of Music)

abraxas

 

A cryptic mash up free flowing tale of the spirituality of Carlos Santana and various mythological characters with a little hippie legend tossed in……..

This is the dawning of the Age Of Aquarius
Golden living dreams of visions and The minds true liberation
When the moonflower is in the seventh house
And Jingo aligns its Evil Ways……Carlos flies

 

The Pumas guitar sang me a tune
Revealing a painting hung on ancient wall
There the image of the whore I had once berated
Calling her name as I made love to my mother
My beloved Abraxas squealing delightful
Daughter of the clawed feline devil
Angel who shared my very own womb
I half god Castor the true son of Leda
Born of the rape by the swan chameleon
Hath stabbed to death my devious father
The frozen heart of Damien stopped
Vile chilled slayer of Pollex Gemini
But my deeds are etched deep in stone
Upon the hill of the angel Gabriel
Messenger of the creator on high
Mystic crystal revelation
Play on Carlos

 
As my sword pierced the burning spirit
A huge crowd sings of soul sacrifice
The Morning Glories fade to crimson
The whore of the Caravanserai pauses
Clutching me tight to her breast
Filling my mouth with lactic lifeblood
Offering me an oedipal choice
Take the life of Sophocles and the bed of Jocasta awaits
The rape of my mother and murder of my father
Blessed by the oracle of Delphi
The four elements remained in riddle
Revealing the Sphinx as a fraudulent god
So I destroyed the body of the lion
But the spirit of the head remained
Inscribed in the kingdom of Babylon
Sympathy and trust abounding
No more falsehoods or derisions
Play on Carlos

 
The whispers of my love stricken Rhea
Sobbing behind a forbidden wall of sin
Begged me with tears most amorous
My brother please take away my virginity
Give fully yourself unto Magna Mater
Water bearer of my daughter Gaia
Sister of the father husband Cronos
Blessed incestuous communion
Now the face of the lion Borboletta
One of many morphed in the mane
Layered egos in regal camouflage
Brother father and raper of Europa
Bearing the fruit from the loin of Zeus
The hallucinations of the abalone bull
A song sung in voices Supernaturel
I begged of him strum his lyre once more
To escape me this life of indescribable pain
The Aztec Archer drew back tight his bow
Firing his arrow across the entire world
His message of peace love and music
And then he played a Samba for me
All I had to do was listen
Let peace guide the planets and love steer the stars
Play on Carlos

 

Dave? Daves Not Here…

db

 

By J.T. Hilltop

All day long I’ve been hearing and seeing people say that David Bowie was extremely good at re-inventing himself. Personally I find that to be a bullshit statement. He wasn’t invented he merely lived his life on his own terms. I think maybe David Bowie was far too original for some people to understand so they put him into compartments they can label. They invented a label for Mr. Bowie and when he exposed another piece of his personality they re-invented a new label. David didn’t invent himself he shared himself, in all his glorious facets. The only expectations he lived up to were his own and that defies the logic of those among us who can only understand people when they’re placed in comfortable sounding compartments.

Whether he was wearing an Oddity like an abandoned spacesuit looking the sell the world or busy making cha cha cha cha changes into a Cosmic Traveling Starman riding spiders on Mars he willing revealed all the components of his life with us while entertaining us with phenomenal music. All while reaching his fame. What’s your name what’s your name. David simply slipped in and out of the pieces of the jigsaw that made him such a wonderful puzzle and graciously allowed us to experience it along with him.

In constant conflict with conformity David took us on many wonderful rides each one more fun than the next. Rock, Glam, Dance, whatever the Hell he felt like exposing he did. His legacy for me will not be merely his music but his teaching us how to be brave and express ourselves as who we are not who others want us to be. Jimi Hendrix told us to wave our freak flags high but David Bowie took it a step further, not just raise your flag but to refuse to allow anyone to label your flag. It’s our flag and we wave if proudly. David Bowie will forever be both a Scary Monster…..and a Hero.

 

Days Of Skull and Roses

ajaj

The 60’s were days of hope, intense and genuine built on a platform of innocence and fantasy which were fueled by drugs sex and rock and roll. Raw and unkempt was this movement of youthful enthusiasm, pure creative energy, and a thirst to experiment. Experiments in sight sound color art and yes, chemicals. The drugs were not the main focus at first but rather a sort of footnote, a little oil on the wheels of creativity to enhance it. Unfortunately it has come to define the decade in many peoples eyes.
The decade was sullied with the atrocities of war both overseas in Viet Nam and here at home with civil rights in the forefront. But it was that sullying, the soiling of our values and natural evolution of humanitarianism that inspired a collective rebel spirit. In the midst of this expansion of the minds came a band that would have a polarizing and empowering effect on its fans. The Grateful Dead.
Even the name of the band had mystical roots, previously know as The Warlocks upon opening a book and pointing the name Grateful Dead magically appeared. The meeting of a lyricist without equal and a guitarist without equal contributed to forming what can best be described in Robert Hunters own words. Their a band beyond description, like Jehovah’s favorite choir.
Last night The Grateful Dead wrapped up a five show reuniting that was filled with as much magic as the band itself. They did everything right, from choosing who to sit in with the four remaining members, to where and when the shows were played,(finishing up where the last show that included Jerry Garcia was on the fourth of July) to the decision not to have a fake hologram of Jerry on stage. Trey played masterfully not attempting to duplicate or imitate Jerry’s guitar riffs but joining in the spirit of improvising his own sound which was one of the things that set the Dead apart. The Phil zone was in full stature, the drums/space/drums had evolved and had a distinguished and fully matured sound, Bob was playing and singing as good as ever, and a few times I almost mistook him for Jerry with the full face of hair. Or maybe it was a recurrent experience who knows. Chimenti and Hornsby filled in beautifully on the ever rotating keyboards and in my opinion the band sounded fan-friggen-tastic.
When Jerry died in 1995 it was pretty clear no one would be able to fill those huge guitar strings and for many of us it was like Grateful Dead limbo. But this past week the Core Four gave us an amazing present. After almost twenty years they have given us closure. The music will live on, the Core Four will continue to play, and somewhere the spirit of Jerry is smiling and saying “Great job guys, the way it always was, the way it always should be.”

Smithtown Sunrise (A little ditty bout love on The Island)

sun

(In trochaic rhythm)

Midnight managers stumbling in the night
Some searching love others looking for a fight
Riding rainbow’s across the Smithtown bluffs
Full on drunken promises and magic dragon puffs

Did our shots of courage with a side of rum and coke
To add a nice perspective went out and had a smoke
Come with me darling to cliffs where from above
We’ll watch the sun come up together while we are making love

Let’s watch the sunrise
together
The Smithtown sunrise
forever
Naked by the shore who could ever ask for more
At our sunrise

Out on the Bluffs the morning waves are breaking near
Promises of love being whispered in your ear
Moonbeams dancing in our kaleidoscopic eyes
Digested window panes now we’re riding butterflies

Watching the sunrise
so high

The magic sunrise
way up high

This sweet sweet Harmony will be our eternity
Loving the sunrise

(Diminuendo tempo)
Secrets are revealed at the break of dawn
Where lines of truth in sand are being drawn
Telling sweet lies and moaning soft cries
Look in my eyes let me claim you as my prize
Between your thighs I hear your sighs
Falling in love beneath a magic rainbow surprise
Neon yellow shards of sun writes I love you on the sky
The Smithtown sunrise

It’s the sunrise
The Smithtown sunrise
Falling in love at The Bluff in the sunshine in the buff
Watching the sunrise

At Kings Park bluff where love rules the day
Sensual loving couple find a place to play
Hoping love will find a way to make this feeling stay
Everyday

Sun tickling our eyes our Smithtown sunrise
Love is The Bluff
Love is enough

Think it through
Tell me true
Whisper in my ear those three words I want to hear
I love you

At the sunrise
The Smithtown sunrise
Aquatic cries soar where a seagull flies
Waves cresting soft as the darkness dies
You look into my eyes
Lust lives forever never dies
Today our love will stay
Tomorrows just a day away
Smithtown sunrise

(Trochaic return)
Like rays of silver almonds sunlight stretches to a yawn
Strutting down the red carpet is the wakening of the dawn
Memories tucked in her arms as night kisses day good bye
Another Smithtown sunrise where true love will never die
Watching the sunrise

The Soundtrack Of My Youth

soundtrack

I was fortunate to have grown up in the era of The Beatles, The British Invasion, and the cultural shift they caused.

At seven years old one Chritmas morn
I received a present of deep distintion
My very first monophonic record player
Which I played right into its extinction

My very first single was huckleberry Hound
Followed by Theodore, Alvin and Simon
I developed an obsession of musical sounds
The Beach boys Everlies and Frankie Lyman

But one fateful Sunday on prime time TV
Four cool young lads from England performed
I knew at that moment my life had been changed
Good bye to Silly putty and so long colorform

Suddenly a music I could call all my own
My brothers rock and roll seemed too lame
I had the Fab Four their mopheads and all
And my life would never again be the same

I can see how the albums influenced my being
With every new LP I evolved fashion and style
I wanted my life to be just like one the Beatles
Every thing those Fab Four did made me smile

Meet The Beatles and A Hard Days night 1964
Dad I wanna grow my hair to my collar
With bangs hanging over my eyes
Son you’re getting another crew cut
Dad your getting a big surprise

As long as your under my roof you’ll do as your told. Your hair stays as short as I say it does.
That’s not fair I never asked to be born in this stupid world.
Maybe I’ll just run away
No son of mine is going to be one of those dirty hippies they’re all smelly and they don’t even bathe
I’m not a dirty hippie Dad I just want to grow my hair longer
Cool it and keep the faith
I’ll keep the faith all right. That’s what you lack, maybe we’ll send you to military school.
Don’t wanna be in the army, I just wanna be like The Beatles
Smelly insects? that’s what you want? That’s what I get for letting you go around with those hoodlum friends of yours!
Don’t be a jerk Dad
Don’t talk to me like that you little brat, remember you’re living under my roof
Now go do your homework
I hate living here!!!

Help! Rubber Soul 1965

Slowly letting my hair grow longer
Despite all the tough complications
Bought myself a pair of bell bottom jeans
Spouted out cool Buddha quotations

Son you look ridiculous, where the Hell did you get those clothes. What the Hell will the neighbors say
Why do you care what the neighbors say? Ever see what Billy wears?
Besides I paid for it with my paper route.
Yes I know all about Billy, he’s older than you and a tree hugging fool.
If Billy jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge would you jump too.
If it looked like fun I would jump off.
What’s that son?
Nothing Dad
Go do your homework
I hate my life!
Bratty kid bastard!

Revolver, Yesterday And Today 1966

My hair finally snuck past my collar
The long bangs they covered my eyes
Dad put on way too much pressure
I began selling too many lies

Mr. Roberts said he saw you smoking a cigarette at the mall. Where are you getting those things?
I wasn’t at the mall so it couldn’t have been me smoking. Someone else was blowing those smoke rings
I never said anything about blowing smoke rings, now I know you are lying
I think its discipline you now lack
Oh for Gods sake not the military school bullshit again?
Don’t start anything you’re not able to finish young man. Now where the Hell did you get a cigarette?
I stole a few cigs from your pack old man
Don’t you talk to your father like that! Who the Hell do you think you are?
Get a haircut you insolent brat
Yea right!

Magical Mystery Tour, Srgt. Peppers 1967

Had my first sit in and a couple of rallies
Lets get our troops home from Vietnam
In hippie clothes and hugging some tree’s
Jesus they’re killing with kids with napalm

What the Fuck is wrong with you going to these peace rallies? People get killed at those things!
It’s a PEACE rally father, not a kill rally like you used to go to.
Listen you god damn Ruskie commie fag you still live under my roof so you’ll follow my rules.
You don’t even know what communism is Dad. Russia is a socialist country for your information
This is what I send you to school for you little shit? What teacher is telling you those lies
My shop teacher never mind it doesn’t matter, you don’t get me anyway
I’ll get you allr right, I’ll get you in a damn barber chair

Where did I go wrong?

The White album, Yellow Submarine,1968/69

Full fledged hippie clothes and all
As I walked all the old farts stared
Parents said see you look like a fool
They never realized I never even cared

Get a job and a haircut you lazy little punk.
Put on a suit and tie if you ever get an interview
What a suit and tie so I can be a prisoner like you?
You can cut this crap out right now, your mother and I…….what???
What the hell is that on your arm?
Its called a tattoo dad, maybe you heard of them.
Oh My God! Has your mother seen that? What are you comic book arms?
Now you’re gonna be one of those Hell’s Angels or something?
Its expression old man, you wouldn’t understand.
Understand this you young punk you better get that off your body before your Mom see’s that.
Its permanent Dad! It’s my god damn body anyway!
Taking the lords name in vain? Your on a road to nowhere.
Get a job and move out of my house!
Gladly!

Let It Be, Abbey Road, 1970 and beyond

The time comes in every mans life
Its time to spread his wings and fly
Got a job and my own apartment
Didn’t wait around to say good bye

Mom, I moved out I can‘t live with Dad no more. I found a basement apartment in Kings Park.
Son please! Stay here, you don’t need to leave, your father is just upset.
I’m sorry Mom its way more than that, he hates me and I hate him.
Son nobody hates anybody, its only a misunderstanding, don’t move away. Its not safe, we love you.
Its too late Mom, I just came to get my records and my record player. I promise I’ll come visit you when he’s not around. I love you Mom

Please don’t go………….

Jerome John Garcia (Aug 1, 1942-Aug 9, 1995)

da boyz

Reluctant Guru and voice of the psychedelic generation, Jerry was complicated and human despite the seemingly superpower ability of moving so many of us to amazing heights during his incredible career. With his guitar he transformed an entire arena of fans from the mundane and often tedious world into a world filled with constant joy and pleasure in an indescribable Jerry zone. So indescribable that back in the day most of us fans would simply proclaim our mantra, “There is nothing like a Grateful Dead concert” And that’s truly the only way to explain it, you needed to experience the transformation yourself to fully comprehend how insanely phenomenal it was. His voice and guitar wrapped us up in a protective cocoon and in mid show taught us to spread our wings. A concert hall full of beautiful butterflies mesmerized by one common theme, peace and love. I miss the privilege of watching them perform and most specifically being fortunate enough to allow Jerry to take me away with him on his improvisational jams. One day a jazzy set, one day Latin influence, tribal beats or maybe a deep Elem blues set you never knew what to expect from the genius guitar player from California. We miss you Jerry, thank you for the years of intense pleasure. Following is a tribute to what you’ve meant to many of us in general, and me in particular. It’s composed of many references to songs we loved and memories implanted or just improvisational word association in the sprit of the king of musical improv.

GOD DAMN UNCLE JOHNS MAD

When the song is done
The strings are unstrung
Songs go unsung
An empty feeling in the air
Ticketron memories remain
Waiting in vain
Our mission in the rain
Outside the concert halls
Kids climbing the walls
For a chance to get inside
All fried and wide eyed
To see a band beyond description
Jehovah’s favorite choir
But no matter how they prayed
The encores have all been played
No more road trips
Or fools ships
Searching for tix
Off we bounded
At risk of being grounded
Getting home late
Scamming to get through the gate
A simple twist of fate

No more mountains on the moon
No soothing tune
Toking one last bowl
To rock my soul
Where the river sings sweet songs
Flow big river flow
Cuz his words still glow
Like gold
Like a Ripple through still water
No pebble tossed
Ten million eyes glossed
And the Hunter is lost
Partner and friend
To the end
Who now has the time
To call his soul a critic
As we wait outside the lazy gate
Of winters summer home
Alone

Peeking through a lace banana
With a silver kimono chalice
This broke down Palace
Free of all malice
Unbroken chain
Mission in the rain
We hold you in the attics of lives
So
Fare ye well and so long
The river sings your sweet song
And fills the air
With that Jerry flair
To rock my soul
By the riverside
Fare the well
Saint Angel
Who can the weather command
Our favorite band

Take up your china doll
Its only fractured
In rapture
Magic wand in hand
Strumming his lightning bolts
My heart full of electric volts
Fragile peals of thunder
Took me under
He Shreds and rips
That Captain Trips
Took us away
For the day
Filled our hearts with emotion
With one searing motion
Strangers stopping strangers
Just to shake their hand
A giant of a man

But all that’s left is a trace
Of his inspiration
Yet still it flows
Suggesting rhythms
That shall not forsake you
But the song is sung and done
Thought We’d only just begun
I’ll meet you on the run
At the jubilee
Seldom turns out the way it does in the song
On a trip strange and long
But not long enough

William Tell has stretched his bow
Till it will stretch no furthermore
What for written on the morning sky
I shrug and say good bye
Lady fingers dipped in moonlight
Counting stars by candlelight
Only one is bright
Light a candle curse the glare
The choice of The Bear
And his magic elixir
In the dark
Light the songs with sense and color
Hold away despair
Talent so rare

Must be getting early
Clocks are running late
Gone to where the wind don’t blow so strange
Like a steam locomotive
Rollin down the track
He’s gone
He’s gone
Nothings gonna bring him back
He’s gone
And these spaces fill with sadness
The obvious hidden
In the shadow of the moon
And We’ll all be there real soon
To where the compass always points
Heavens mutation
Terrapin Station

If you could
I know you would
Dust of those rusty strings just one more time
And let it shine
Let the broken angel sing
From your guitar
One last Dark Star
But it all rolls into one
And one man gathers what another man spills
Thrills
The pills
The smoke
Laughing when their ain’t no joke
Was all part of the show
The magic show
The grateful scene
Best I’ve ever seen
Or ever will
The last rose has pricked our fingers
Its time for us to sing our own songs
But your music never stopped
For me it never will
I carry it with me always

Rock In Peace Jerry Garcia

Underneath the warmth and openness we all felt from Jerry lay a deep well of an understaning, that we all have a dark side. Jerry used that dark understanding like many atrists to create, and what jerry created was some of the most haunting, real, and downright ornery riffs and vocalizations in all of rock. There was a near eerie connection between Jerry and the collective consciousness of his fans which flowed through his fingers, dancing along his guitar strings and into our souls which lifted us up taking us away with him to wherever his trip was headed that particular evening. If only for a few hours we all existed in a utopian world led by the pied piper who tapped in to our every emotion, from the highest elations to the darkest corridors of our minds, pain and grief, fear and despair, or just plain euphoria and by the end of the evening returned us safely to our memories. It was an unexplainable esoteric bond that can only be wrapped up by saying because of Jerry‘s unique ability to convey through his essence how great life can be, there was nothing like a Grateful Dead concert, and sadly there will never be again. Rock In Peace Jerry, we miss you!