Which came first?
Creation, or creator?
The bang, or implosion?
Rubber band stars
or yo-yo universe?
Stars and deserts, useless things.
Roads to the end of the ice caps.
Who made them? Probably you.
Which came first?
Road, or imagination?
The matter, or space?
Dark matter or light?
Warrior or the fight?
You marvel at your heart beat.
Crow realized God spoke Crow.
But what spoke the rock and ice?
What spoke the silence before?
In dreams he saw places he lived.
Places where he’d never been.
Which came first?
The orbit, or chaos?
Doctrine or the mind?
Magma, or mountain?
Action, or reaction?
Water or the seas?
Crow saw the dark-spined sea.
He saw stars fuming at black God.
He was up there with brimstone.
We got a little brimstone too.
(With a couple of lyrics borrowed from Ted Hughes)
Chicken, or Egg
Okay, so I'm jus' writin' tonight...
"I went back to Ohio"
I went back to Ohio.
Nothing but smoldering farms.
Blues man on a smoldering stoop
pickin’ out a smoldering trance.
He didn’t hit all the notes, but a pulse
full of rock’n roll goodness.
I went back to Ohio,
but my city was gone, bummer.
He was pickin’ the last smoldering summer.
And the notes drift out, hang for a while,
all full of rich, full-bodied smoky flavor.
Nothing like it.
(With a couple of lyrics borrowed from Chrissie Hynde)
"I went back to Ohio"
I went back to Ohio.
Nothing but smoldering farms.
Blues man on a smoldering stoop
pickin’ out a smoldering trance.
He didn’t hit all the notes, but a pulse
full of rock’n roll goodness.
I went back to Ohio,
but my city was gone, bummer.
He was pickin’ the last smoldering summer.
And the notes drift out, hang for a while,
all full of rich, full-bodied smoky flavor.
Nothing like it.
(With a couple of lyrics borrowed from Chrissie Hynde)
"What's your Number?"
(Cosmic cookie cutter stuff)
Everyone is a number.
Makes sense with a big number.
How else to control a big number?
Everyone got a number and a clicker.
So kill the box!
Try the book machine, here's one,
“Dog helps us fight the war.”
Always some damn war.
Boxing gloves.
Go out, look for a fight.
I wanna punch Mailer in the mouth.
He’s dead, I wanna fight that bastard.
Cell phone go buzz.
Tinkling sound bite snippet.
Screen glows for no reason.
They're tracking me.
Passion never existed.
Lost in a screen, lost in numbers,
big numbers, only makes sense
everyone should be one.
(Cosmic cookie cutter stuff)
Everyone is a number.
Makes sense with a big number.
How else to control a big number?
Everyone got a number and a clicker.
So kill the box!
Try the book machine, here's one,
“Dog helps us fight the war.”
Always some damn war.
Boxing gloves.
Go out, look for a fight.
I wanna punch Mailer in the mouth.
He’s dead, I wanna fight that bastard.
Cell phone go buzz.
Tinkling sound bite snippet.
Screen glows for no reason.
They're tracking me.
Passion never existed.
Lost in a screen, lost in numbers,
big numbers, only makes sense
everyone should be one.
Yikes! I have a number?
Will I know when it is up?
no fear of snakes or creepy crawly thingees
no fear of lightening bolts or acts of nature
no fear of the unknown or unknowing
but a number makes me tremble and shake
a number has an abstract priority
a number must be a memory
a memory of important stuffing
in the minds' eye of who, what
and the when and where
I'd like to ignore them but no such luck
for numbers plague my every move
and strike when the iron's hot
they seem so innocent but i can assure you
they are not!
numbers are in the groove of every
waking hour and how would you
even know, what that was...unless
those frightful numbers carved themselves
into your internal, infernal clock
so speak of numbers with all care
and do not tread them lightly
for you will never even know
when those numbers chime the end of time
or make you slightly crazy...
Thank you Nazz for the inspiration this fine and dandy morning.
Will I know when it is up?
no fear of snakes or creepy crawly thingees
no fear of lightening bolts or acts of nature
no fear of the unknown or unknowing
but a number makes me tremble and shake
a number has an abstract priority
a number must be a memory
a memory of important stuffing
in the minds' eye of who, what
and the when and where
I'd like to ignore them but no such luck
for numbers plague my every move
and strike when the iron's hot
they seem so innocent but i can assure you
they are not!
numbers are in the groove of every
waking hour and how would you
even know, what that was...unless
those frightful numbers carved themselves
into your internal, infernal clock
so speak of numbers with all care
and do not tread them lightly
for you will never even know
when those numbers chime the end of time
or make you slightly crazy...
Thank you Nazz for the inspiration this fine and dandy morning.
Freedom's just another word...
http://soozen.livejournal.com/
http://soozen.livejournal.com/
The egg came first. Because long before there were chickens, there were dinosaurs. And dinosaurs laid eggs. So the egg came first. This is evolution, and it's not against God. It's got nothing to do with God. It's got everything to do with God.
We are all just little blue eggs, on a little blue egg, inside a little blue egg, in the hand of God.
Life is.
Liberty is.
Happiness is.
Love is ALL there is.
Period.
Peace,
Barry
We are all just little blue eggs, on a little blue egg, inside a little blue egg, in the hand of God.
Life is.
Liberty is.
Happiness is.
Love is ALL there is.
Period.
Peace,
Barry
Soo, you jammin'..
Barry, chicken, egg
Either works for me!
Number is a number.
Jam is a jam is a jam.
Not sure what Elvis thought of Vegas.
Hummin' a buzzin' summer swelter shelter.
Get the mic, turn it on, late night turn it on.
Air conditioner hums, can't listen to that.
A jam is a jam is a jam, so turn it on.
We got licks already splittin' town.
He was no Memphis Slim.
But that smoky record got to me.
bumped along full and slow, full and slow.
recall that pulse like smoke lightning.
Full of the goodness of rock.
I remember that pulse.
Barry, chicken, egg
Either works for me!
Number is a number.
Jam is a jam is a jam.
Not sure what Elvis thought of Vegas.
Hummin' a buzzin' summer swelter shelter.
Get the mic, turn it on, late night turn it on.
Air conditioner hums, can't listen to that.
A jam is a jam is a jam, so turn it on.
We got licks already splittin' town.
He was no Memphis Slim.
But that smoky record got to me.
bumped along full and slow, full and slow.
recall that pulse like smoke lightning.
Full of the goodness of rock.
I remember that pulse.
well, hey.
"Cynic's campfire"..
On the mountain,
distant bird call sparkle.
Wind washed pines, lusty river.
Look around for cougar and bear.
Predators moved to the suburbs.
I have the pines and volcano.
Shadows get longer.
Fire ebbs in the west.
Trees waving to and fro.
Can't seem to light a fire.
or..
Wind is a joke.
Whips through, and nothing.
The pines were a lusty river.
Mountain's breath, freedom stream.
Quiet now, fire ebbs in the west.
Can't light a fire in a tinderbox.
Pines mutter, sputter, go dark.
Distant bird call, slow concession.
The wind spilled off a mountain,
once vital, volatile and parched.
Can't seem to light a spark.
No spark.
"Cynic's campfire"..
On the mountain,
distant bird call sparkle.
Wind washed pines, lusty river.
Look around for cougar and bear.
Predators moved to the suburbs.
I have the pines and volcano.
Shadows get longer.
Fire ebbs in the west.
Trees waving to and fro.
Can't seem to light a fire.
or..
Wind is a joke.
Whips through, and nothing.
The pines were a lusty river.
Mountain's breath, freedom stream.
Quiet now, fire ebbs in the west.
Can't light a fire in a tinderbox.
Pines mutter, sputter, go dark.
Distant bird call, slow concession.
The wind spilled off a mountain,
once vital, volatile and parched.
Can't seem to light a spark.
No spark.
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