Song Under the Cross
(an epic solo vocal song about eternal love and the wait for when she arrives again, and again into the time when we just turn to dust and mulberry bushes.)
This is a classical country blues, lonesome blues song from the dead. One of love eternal. A meeting where three crosses stood on Wolfskin Road. I’ve written a few poems about this area as I found it supernatural in many ways, and not just for the visionary force that was there, yes family/friends who love to say I am crazy take this and place it in a nice evidence he’s nuts file, but I had a love and she and I would sit out here and gaze into the night, listen to the fields as living and moving, you know, wind and crickets, mockingbirds singing back and forth, a night music, we loved this spot and I felt it as holy and as of love. So here it is, an acapella blues where till the end of time she and I will be here but as things like ash and clay, mulberry thickets, whatever it is that becomes of the earth our spirit lives on in this space. A fantasy. A love song. A blues. An Irish or Norwegian saga of a man who has one love and lives to be with her for all time. Love. A good thing. I never imagined singing an unaccompanied blues. But something about it fits. It would be a magnificent song in the right set of lungs, with a group of people who loved art and artists. Used to have that, now I just go it alone hoping somehow it is heard and touches a soft spot in a persons life, brings back a gentle memory, reminds us of life when you would not be arrested for siting under a cross praying and gazing out at the night. I was not arrested by the way, I just imagine in fascist or Stalinist death countries I would be killed for being a romantic.
I can only hope someone happens upon this and may like to hear the warmth of a world that is now a slaughterhouse of madness and fools brought to fever fears by our own little wiemarch and Stalinist mini groups designed to lure out romantics, writers, musicians, painters, Jews, homosexuals, anything that was not their little queen hitler with his tiny hands or macho stalin putin with their own self loathing lying in wait to explode. I would tag. I am no longer allowed to tag. My posts are under constant FB review and they seem to think me inhuman. I guess I should be less creative, or maybe have fewer enemies, I really don’t know. All I want to do is share Art and have someone, anyone, somewhere to discuss it with me. Since tagging has become verboten or just a hassle i peoples lives I am just putting this out there hoping someone will hear it want to talk about country blues. Why is tagging someone a bad thing? Most people, especially the ones who clog up the FB start page the most, have all tags dropped in the unwanted toys box anyway, I know half the people I tag just dump it or have them blocked anyway and are proud of blocking friends from communicating. Ugh! Stupid 21st century kill any opportunities for good conversations and sharing of songs, art, poems etc. I have even become afraid of my faith. What is left when the idea of a salon is wiped from the earth? We now have had the largest mass murder in history for our young nation. The Orange Demon is real. His apes are now running free. I hope someone digs this song and lets me know if it’s cool or garbage, oh wait, too many love to say garbage and bad things, just only if you like it and have something similar or something.
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