(no subject)
Hotel Lincoln
New York City
1939
Do I look like I have all the answers?
I just know some of the questions...
I just...
I just lay back on my bed and closed my eyes
let my mind wander for a while
searching the darker corners of my memory for sign of light
or life
or...
and all the time the water from the faucet in the bathroom dripped
drip by drip
drip
drip
drip
And I guess I could have got up to turn it off
it was annoying
but...
My mind was in to deep
I was focused on solving the problem before I was over taken by tiredness and sleep
much as I love dreams some answers only lie in reality...
There was a knock on the door
I fastened my belt
checked my hair in the mirror
and went to answer
one plate of buffalo wings and a bowl of fries
not my favorite supper but I was hungry and it's all I could get the girl in the kitchen to
rustle up for me
I had felt like asking for something else but she was risking her job enough for me as it was
I had officially checked out three days ago so...
Hotel workers are often good people
I seen them getting moaned at by guests but I always find them amiable and helpful
there's not many people who would give away free product but in hotels you find staff with
pass keys who will give you a room sometimes and kitchen staff who will supply you with free
suppers
even if it's buffalo wings and fries
I left the wings
I'm not a big meat man
but I ate the fries
it's good to eat sometimes
I hate it when you're forced to go without food for days and your stomach contracts and then
the famine is broken by some dish you absolutely love but you can't manage more than a mouthful
and you can't savour it and...
the down sides of poverty
although I shouldn't complain
I do OK
I'm alive
I eat
I usually have a room over my head
not always in summer but then I don't mind that
there is something addictive about the outdoors
it's nice to enjoy it sometimes
I've met a few homeless people in my life who got so used to outdoors that when the chance of
indoors came they turned it down
it can be addictive
but then so are most things
I remember the first time I became aware of an institutionalised person
I was in this kids home
well it was a kind of cross between a kids home and a juvenile prison
(there were cells there and things)
and it was this guy Harris's last day
he'd been there from age 7 to age 18 and now they couldn't let him stay any longer
law said he had to go
but it was all he knew
he'd never even really left the place to socialise at all
I mean we got these passes so that we could go out sometimes but I never saw Harris use one
and there he was
suddenly faced with the great out doors
and he burst in to tears and hung on to the gate
screaming and crying that he wouldn't leave
in the end he had to be ejected by force
I think I was about 10 at the time and I swore I'd never get like that
how could anyone love that place?
But I guess if it's home
if it's all you know
then you can love it
you can love anything under those circumstances...
I saw Harris years later when I was about 21 so he must have been about 29 by then and I was
in this bar
he walked in and bought himself a small beer
stood at the bar
talking to no one
then he looked across at me and smiled
I said 'hi'
he said 'hi' back
and then said
'they were good days...'
I smiled
I thought they were hell
but why shatter his dreams?
we talked a little
not much
it was clear he was clumsy around people
and I could tell from the few things he said that he was still hanging onto those gates
he still wanted to get back in and he'd never really settled in the real world
or maybe that was the real world and he could never settle for this pale imitation
I lay back on the bed again
loosened my belt and closed my eyes
now what was I looking for?
'That's out of order, that's fuckin' out of order, you're going out of here on your back...'
I put on my jacket
said goodnight and left
I had a dream once
I so often do
I dreamt
in this particular dream
that I was standing in a parking lot and two guys were threatening me
one was white
one was black
I couldn't hear what they were saying but I was very afraid
The white guy pulled a gun and fired it at me and my world went black
I woke up
my chest was throbbing
my eyes were fogged
and I was sweating and very afraid
I didn't get back to sleep that night
I knew it was only a dream
well...
A nightmare but it had been so real
and had scared me so much
I couldn't sleep until the light came...
6 months later I was in a new town
and I was standing in a parking lot
just outside the apartment building I was staying in
when two guys approached me
one white
one black
they started shouting at me
and I ran
and leapt over a wall
as I flew over the wall I heard the noise of a gun being discharged behind me...
what's it all about?
Sometimes people don't realise why I write
I write to try and make sense of things
I read the words on the paper or on the screen and look at them and try and figure out what it
was all about...
I very rarely find an answer...
If you were me
or I was you
would we understand any better?
I dream of the salt of tears
there's something special in it's taste
it's not regular salt
but salt flavoured with emotion
with hopes
or pains
pleasures
or despairs
answers
or questions
I dream of the salt of tears
and what it's going to tell me
next time...
'Yesterday
all my troubles seemed so far away...'
I wonder...
I...
and then...
and then I drift
surrounded by half answers
and many more questions
but I try to hold the line
transfixed by hope
that if I untie the knots then...
but Alexander cut it
that was his secret...
At the bottom of the Caldera is a million answers
but the walls are gonna crack before we find them
there's faults all around the place and it's still highly active
no way we'll find the answers before it's to late
but I been down there
o yes
I dived and dived
deeper and deeper
down and down
into swirling darkness of history
and mystery
surrounded by answers from thousands of years ago
kissed by energies that...
and all the time I'm holding it
holding answers
secret answers
not all the answers but...
and I smile
I smile because I know
and because I can know
and because I know one day
yes
one day
it'll be OK...
It's all roundabouts
circles
karma
whatever you want to call it
I let me get robbed
but ain't I robbing some guy when I'm getting a free hotel room for the night
or tucking into some fries brought curtesy of the smiling kitchen girl?
she did have a cute smile...
if the world had been different I think I might have made a pass at her
but...
Hotel Lincoln
New York City
1939
Do I look like I have all the answers?
I just know some of the questions...
I just...
I just wish I could make sense of it all
you know what I mean?
It just rolls on
like it's meant to be this way
like this is normal
but no one else seems to do it this way
not from what I can tell...
but then
whatever way they do it
does it give them any more answers?
I bet they want to make sense of it too...
I put out my joint
closed my eyes
reached across in the darkness to turn out the light
and allowed myself to drift off into sleep
I'd thought enough for one night
now was time for dream time
stories of when...
and the real world...
The harsh morning light forced itself through the crack in the curtain and into my dreams
flooding my senses and dragging me into consciousness
I coughed a little
then a lot
trying to clear my throat of the nastiness that invaded my body
the poisons
the toxins
the chemicals
from cars
from cigarettes
from drugs
from my way of life
I rolled over
stretched
and tried to find a position of comfort from the aches of my body
I hate mornings
full of reminders of how bad I am
how far behind I've left my youth
maybe with a different life it wouldn't show so much
but the years haven't been kind to my insides
and every waking reminds me of this fact...
I looked at the phone
wouldn't it be nice if I could use it?
but I wasn't there so...
that meant the phone couldn't be used for calls
I had a call to make
but to make it I had to climb out of bed
get dressed
slip out the back way
and walk a quarter of a mile
no big deal really
but a useful reminder of how much we take the telephone for granted...
I looked out the window
ice showers...
fuck I hate winters
to damn cold
I guess I could put up with them if my life was settled but when you have to spend so much
time in them
and so much times of doubt
they weigh heavy at the front of your mind
like...
I'm not a million miles away
I'm just walkin' down another road
feelin' tired
and kinda cold
but that ain't a problem
and if it was
would it matter?
so what if the ice rains splatter
into my face
like tears of hell
it's just a way to tell
that I'm still breathing
and if I scream out loud
just ignore me
it's just frustration
and the constant alienation
of another day
and how I walk this way
no matter what the radio is playing
no matter what the TV's saying
cuz that's the way it is...
and everyone's an angel
in there own sweet way
so it ain't so bad
not really
Winters always remind me of St. Albert
up in Edmonton Alberta
o Canada
we had bad winters up there
but...
I was never there that long
one hot summer
and one bad winter
the summer was fun
water balloon fight
water balloon war
it was wild
it went on all summer
one fight
one side of the neighborhood against the other
24/7
kids were sneaking out of bed at 3 am to take their watch
never ending
it was impossible
for anyone of any age
to cross the lines without attack
the adults really did lose control of the streets
forget the usual crimes
and the usual suspects
the army of water bombers ruled the streets
it was funny watching the old fashioned street gangs
at first they tried to counter with violence
but we were to smart for them
we were armed after all
we didn't need to battle at close quarters
we could wait patiently on top of a building
and then...
sniper attack
a flurry of bombs
one drenched gang
it was funny to see the hard men
the gangsters
the street criminals
first aggressive
then cautious
then disappearing
maybe the cops should adopt the tactic?
but the cops didn't...
they wanted the bombers
there had been enough complaints
it was huge
maybe 200 people on each side
some of which permanently on duty
attacks anywhere
anytime
it had even drifted into downtown
and I can see the chief and the mayor in conference
'this has got to stop'
the police came in mob handed
they took a pounding
but in return they made arrests
the bombers retreated
and things quietened
but didn't stop
after a while the arrested got bailed
but things never returned to how they were before
I can see the cops basking in their glory
but they shouldn't
it wasn't their action that stopped us
it was the fact that winter was coming
water balloon wars aren't so fun in winter
when water becomes ice
hard and cold...
I was still a relative stranger in the area when the winter rolled in
I'd got my name known in the water wars
I'd displayed myself quite favorably at the time
shown myself to be a good soldier
but I hadn't been there long
and I regained an air of mystery
I was about 12
I'd already travelled a great deal
being passed from one place to another
so I had habits
and an accent
and stories
of places mysterious
that made me interesting to some people
but still a stranger
I didn't attend school
I never really did
when I had the opportunities
(which were rare and far between)
I chose not to as it was a world that I didn't really know
it was strange
and a little frightening to me
besides I wasn't very good at school things
later in my life I would be diagnosed with mild dyslexia
which doesn't help at school
and because I'd missed so much I couldn't answer many of the questions
which made me look stupid
and I wasn't
I may not be the smartest person on the planet but I'm not stupid
so...
I never went
which helped build up my air of mystery
People liked my air of mystery
they liked the stories I told
about the places I'd been
that they dreamt of going to
about the things I'd seen that people our age just didn't see
unless fate was dealing them strange cards
(fate forgot to take out the joker when she dealt to me)
and that all added to my air of mystery
and in a way I was also seen as 'wise'
cuz I knew places and things they didn't
and they believed every word I said
which in 90% of cases was the right decision
but...
I was 12
I'm entitled to 10% aren't I?
as the nights got shorter
and colder
a number of us began congregating in an old disused building
and the stories started flowing
darker and darker
and I began the tales of Dr. Death
now it's easier to tell a story to a crowd than it is to write it down
as you can see their reactions and adapt the story accordingly
so the story followed the others into darker and darker corners
where there was guaranteed to be more...
'interesting' reactions
Dr. Death was an old hippie
who had turned bad
he dressed in a long flowing coat
and a top hat
and rode around the world on a motorcycle
his mind had been poisoned by a bad crop of drugs and turned him into a homicidal madman
or so my story went
people never saw him
as he travelled secretly at night
but if you ever did see him it was time to be scared as most people who ever saw him wound up
dead
they called him Dr. Death as he killed by fatal injection
the poison was made by himself
an hallucinogenic poison
first you tripped
then you died
and the others got more and more scared
first night I told the tales of Dr. Death
one or two people decided at the end of the night to walk home together
not that they were scared of course but...
it amused me
in my little 12 year old mind
second night some didn't show up at all
and more went home in groups
and so the pattern was established
more and more fear
night after night
and everyone believed me
until one night
there was a murder on the edge of town
I can't remember who was murdered
or how
but it was to big an opportunity to miss
so I incorporated it into my story
it was official now
Dr. Death was in St. Albert
the fear reached fever pitch
people were afraid to go out at night
or to walk anywhere alone
and parents started getting concerned
'so why aren't you going out tonight?'
'but mom...
Dr. Death'
or...
'mom, you know that murder...'
The fears and concerns spread to the parents
and from there it was only a matter of time before the cops were called in
they weren't impressed
they showed up at the school and made a speech about how everyone should remain cautious
but that Dr. Death was fictional
some people thought it was a cover up
but the hysteria died
and the night meetings returned to a more normal footing
I wasn't looking to good though
the cops had been out to see the family who was looking after me already over the water bomb
war
they'd claimed I was a ring leader
I wasn't
but...
new face in town often gets the blame
and now they were knocking on the door over my nightly horror stories
that and the lack of attendance at school really ended things for them
I was told they couldn't look after me anymore
I wasn't at St. Albert long
one long hot summer
and one bad cold winter
but it was fun...
I looked back from the window
and the cold streets below
had to make that phone call didn't I?
I got dressed
and opened my room door
I checked both ways
I couldn't afford to be seen
and slipped out into the corridor and over to the stairwell
as I walked down the stairs my mind slipped back to my conundrum
Hotel Lincoln
New York City
1939
Do I look like I have all the answers?
I just know some of the questions...
I just...
I knew 1939 represented the year and not a room number
but that didn't help much
I was way to young to have been alive then
so my knowledge of that year was limited
and I'm not hugely knowledgeable about New York either
I needed to find an old New Yorker to help me with this one
but I didn't know one...
C'est la vie...
but I didn't have time for all this right now
I was nearing the bottom of the stairs and I needed to be alert so that I could sneak out
unnoticed onto the streets of Detroit...
I didn't like Detroit much at the time
it had the usual sky scrapers
it had a fancy elevated mono rail
the usual sports arena and conference center
all the fine things you expect at the heart of a modern city
except residents
less people live in the heart of Detroit than live in a small village
on a Friday or Saturday night in New York
or London
or most cities
the streets are teaming with people
with nightlife
with action
it's fuckin' expensive but thousands of people live there
Downtown Detroit
on the other hand
on a Friday or Saturday night
seemed almost closed
a few late workers trying to make their way home
and that's about it
the place seemed dead
no atmosphere
nothing
but I learnt
and...
and there is Greektown...
it was lucky for me that they built a Greektown in Detroit
the Greeks are a friendly
helpful
hospital people
by tradition and by nature
so it was good to have some on my doorstep
I have a lot of Greek history
so I often look to my Greek brothers in time of need
and the use of a phone wasn't a massive ask...
At this very moment
with the ice splattering in my face
I wished I was back in Greece...
I used to love being on Santorini
it's a beautiful island
and soaked in history
the whole Island is a volcano
and it's an eruption in about 1250 BC that is credited with destroying the minoan civilisation
the island is also credited by some people
(including many fine scholars)
as being Atlantis
and it was the eruption in around 1250 BC that displaced many people from surrounding islands to swell the numbers of the sea people
the sea people were a group of nomadic, pirate like people
they attacked Egypt a few times
which kept the Egyptians busy and helped give Moses the chance to flee
also if you check your biblical plagues
much of them can probably be tied into the eruption of Santorini
as can the changing water level that allowed Moses to cross but not his pursuers
and...
if that's not enough
many people link the sea people with the philistines
who settled in the area we call Israel just before Moses arrival there
made homeless by the eruption they settled on the mainland east of the islands
and the philistines
as history shows us
were to become the Palestinians
so that eruption in about 1250 BC played a major role in history right up to today
without it would Moses have left?
would the Palestinians been there on his arrival?
who knows?
I don't
but it helps to indicate the power and the history of Santorini
The whole center of the island was blown away in the eruption
it was the largest known eruption since man 'ruled' the planet
and it left an outer ring
broken only in a couple of places
and a couple of inner islands
Palaia Kameni
and Nea Kameni
Now Nea Kameni which is about 2500 meters by 2500 meters is now the center of the volcano
still very active
spewing it's fumes and gases into the air
there are rocks on Nea Kameni that are so hot you can fry an egg on them
and the tourists would turn up for a slow, hot, sweat drenched walk around the island
and then feel strange as I would run past them
I liked to jog around the island
but with the heat and the terrain
I was considered a little insane for doing so...
Santorini was originally called Kalliste which in Greek meant the most beautiful one
that's an apt name
it will always carry the name Kalliste in my heart
but it wasn't just the beauty
or the history
or the power of the place
it was also very much the people
I'd turned up there on my travels as a very young child
I was not with pleasant people at the time
and the owner of a local store spotted this
and took me in
he taught me the Greek ways
and made me proud to be associated with the Greek people
friendly
helpful
hospital people
by tradition and by nature...
I rolled into the place and went up to the owner
asked him if I could use his phone
he looked at me a little quizzically at first
but then noticed my charm around my neck
the Greek connection
he smiled
ushered me into the back
and let me use the phone
before I'd even finished dialling his wife had brought me something to eat
and a glass of ouzo...
At first there was no answer
at the other end of the line
that surprised me
it was early so I hadn't figured on anyone being out at that time
but no answer is no answer
so I replaced the handset
and ate
and drank
and the owner came in the back
and we talked
and drank some more
it was a good morning
I explained my contact wasn't there
he said it was cool and that I was welcome to stick around and try again in a while
so I did...
I noticed a number of books on his shelves
some fitted my tastes
others didn't
but books have always played a part in my life
it's funny I guess
being mildly dyslexic
me loving books
but I do
I noticed Kerouac on his shelf
I remember discovering Kerouac and the impact it had on my life
I was about 21 at the time I think
I'd never heard of Kerouac or the beat movement
it was an unknown quantity to me
I'd just been given a short sentence in jail
I ended up doing about 6 months
nothing much
I can't remember what it was for on that occasion
but if I only did 6 months it was something pretty trivial...
I got taken to the prison library on about my 3rd day and I found a copy of 'On The Road' by Jack
Kerouac on the shelf
I can't remember what attracted me to it but I picked it up and took it back to my cell and
read it that day
it was big
I'd always loved reading but this was the first time I'd ever found a book that was about
'my world'
A book full of characters and places I could understand
a book that touched me
next day I went back to the library and got out a copy of 'Desolation Angels'
then after that The 'Dharma Bums' and 'Big Sur'
Jail is a good place to get introduced to Jack Kerouac
it affords you the opportunity to read the books as they should be read
in one sitting...
And now here I was
all these years later staring at Kerouac on my Greek friends shelf
and I couldn't help wondering what his story was
it's one of the quirks of life
ever reader of beat books has a story
it's one of those things
I guess it's cuz of the realism of the books and the way they can touch you
I mean...
you can be a fan of Ian Fleming and the James Bond books but the chances are you are neither a
spy or a megalomaniac Villain with designs on global control...
but a reader of beat?
chances are he's done a stint fire watching up a mountain
or spent a while on the road
or lived/visited some of the places in the books
maybe they have a drugs past
or love the jazz scene
they don't have to have been touched by all these things
but the probability is that one of the factors from the books relates to their life
they enjoy the stories because it touches them
and they usually have their own stories...
I didn't ask him what his story was
I wasn't in a mood for idle chatter
I wanted him to leave so I would have the privacy to try again to make my connection...
After a while
and far to many glasses of ouzo
my friend left
and I picked up the phone again and dialled the number
this time there was an answer
I explained who I was
and I explained I needed to make some money
he said it could be arranged
I'd have to carry a package down to Florida but there would be a healthy reward
I agreed
gave him my hotel room number
(explaining how I shouldn't be there)
and hung up
As I walked out of the place I turned to my host
thanked him for his help
and asked him
'Hotel Lincoln
New York City
1939?'
He looked at me blankly and shrugged
I hadn't expected an answer
but you never know
sometimes you get answers from the least expected places...
When I got back to the hotel I found a 'conference' of soldiers
I found this amusing
the night before there had been a 'conference' for singles
a 'mingle and get to meet people party'
which was really a front for a call girl racquet
and now the soldiers
coincidence or...
it amused my little mind...
glass slipper kissed the mind
of holy fuck
and hear me blind
with every sound
within a whisper
ticking of an iron bell
or is a belle
a bon voyage
of maiden flights
and ghostly nights
of slipped inside a circle
going somewhere
and how many ways are freeways
even if the sign points north
and carries on for never
or ever
turning on the plate
of open comfort
and all that can be said
is mother are you watching
can you hear me?
Dream inside
dream outside
but remember
some ones always watching
some quiet guy
waiting in the elevator
or standing in the lobby
watchers everywhere
and not a dream to leave you...
Legends are made and bred by...
Or...
As Jung said
'What we are to our inward vision, and what man appears to be sub speciae aeternitatis,
can only be expressed by way of myth.
Myth is more individual and expresses life more precisely than does science.'
Myth and fact
two sides of the coin
interchangeable
one often mistaken for the other
each way
both ways
highways
it's all in the past
but often
it's the future...
Key of F minor
carried on the wind
the four elements
F, G, C, E flat...
one
two
five
with a flattened seventh
but that's a different story
a different question...
but...
Hotel Lincoln
New York City
1939
Do I look like I have all the answers?
I just know some of the questions...
I just...
I just laid back on my bed again
loosened my belt
and went back to thinking...
I guess I must have been more tired than I realised as I slipped into a sleep
I do that more often these days
I seem to have trouble sleeping at nights
for one reason or another
and so I need to catch up the time somehow
and that's often during a quiet reflective moment in the day
I also think sleep
and dreaming
is part of my natural thought process
that might sound weird
that might be weird
but the world of dream and thought
conscious and sub conscious seem to be linked somehow
and to reach where I need to go in one part
I have to travel to the other
not that my dreams that day were particularly ground breaking or revealing
but then my thoughts can often focus on the trivial too...
recurring dreams of the desert...
it's funny how we posses the ability to dream of things that happened before we existed...
reincarnation?
Is there anything to it?
I really can't say
I thought about it one day and came up with a theory
but I don't know if it's right or not
I figured that when we are born we are born with DNA from our parents
inside that DNA is certain information that teaches us some things
and I figured if that's true
and science says it is
then it's possible that inside that DNA is not just the color of our hair, our eyes and a few
simple instructions
but inside that DNA there is also
possibly
memories
we are made from the same building blocks as our parents
well maybe more is in those blocks than we realise
maybe they give us everything that occurred to them before we were born
we know that our memories are far more powerful than we can use
and that we can store huge amounts of data
so it's possible
and if we get our parents memories
then they must have had their parents
and so on
until we remember everything back to the beginning
and as we inter breed then so we add more information to the pool
I don't know how we tap in to that pool
but I believe that some people do it by accident sometimes
and I figure all that as being a kind of reincarnation
when I die
my building blocks
my memories
will live on in my children
so by default so do I...
And how does all this fit with the religions and cultures that believe in reincarnation?
I guess it fits loosely
after all
they all teach that we should try our best
and the better the life we lead the better our future life will be
and that figures under the theory
after all
the better a life we lead
the better information we are passing on to our offspring
so the us that is alive in them will benefit from a better existence in our previous life
or something like that
maybe I should have spent that day more wisely
but it's a theory
it was interesting to think about
and I'd be interested to see how it stands up
with my limited scientific knowledge it seems to stand up...
movie quotes that weren't quite as clever as the script writer thought...
'You can't shoot a dead man...'
Yes you can actually
he's dead already so it probably won't hurt much
or achieve much
but there's nothing to stop you doing it...
Yesterday gone
gone tripped south
to the desert
repeated themes
come visit
but the day has flown
whispering your name to follow
but it's hollow
with it's promises...
I seen the inside of a million rooms
but every empty room is the same...
...and all the flowers
in all the gardens
pale by you...
Sleep
deep sleep
deep deep sleep
nothing to report but dreams
seams of dreams
to be mined
by my mind...
I still love every girl I've ever loved
and I think I always will
there's something special about love
and the memories it leaves for you
and the dreams it gives to you
and the hope it feeds you for the future...
I've never understood why some people are bitter to the ones they've loved before
If you loved them enough to be their lover
surely there must be enough love there to be their friend...
I was woken by a knock at the door
no voice
just a knock
I slid quietly over to the door
I didn't want to give away the fact that I was in there
I wasn't meant to be
so it made sense to go with the silent slide
besides I guess my past has filled me with a certain level of paranoia
I've been places where the man who isn't scared is soon dead
and I didn't want to meet those people again
not for a while yet
for some perverse reason I've held on to life for this long
I'm not going to throw that away
not without a reason
and answering hotel doors is not a valid reason...
I looked through the spy hole
(is there a proper name for those things?)
and saw the smiling face of my friendly little kitchen assistant
she'd brought me some food and a drink
pizza today
that suited me
I liked pizza...
I also liked this girl
she was very cute
maybe in a different world
under different circumstances I might have told her that
hell...
maybe one day she'll read this and know
but the time wasn't right
it wasn't a time for risks...
I'd been trying to straighten my life out for a while
no more risks
no more trouble
I wanted a good life
a clean life
circumstances had prevented me having a life like that but I was determined to try and be the
best I could
and not to get involved unless I had to
and that included not getting myself thrown on to frozen streets just cuz I thought a girl
looked cute...
But...
here I was in Detroit
waiting on a package to take to Florida
I didn't know what was in the package
it wasn't my place to ask
and to be honest I didn't rightly want to know
but...
well if it was totally legal then I'm sure the post service could have taken care of it
and for a fraction of the money I was going to be paid...
I'm not proud of much of my life
of the things I've done
but you don't always have a choice in things
free choice is a myth
unless you count the choice between life and death
I wasn't happy with what I was going to do
but it was the hand dealt to me
and survival dictated I had to see it through...
but I am trying to be better...
Another Velvet Morning?
No reason
no warning
Feel my tears on your face
Looking for another place
Trying to find my home
can't find my place
though I roam
I never fit
I never belong
another velvet morning?
this is my song
Another velvet morning?
another day dawning
Hear my tears on the street
looking for people to meet
I'm trying to find a place
can't find a home
I'm a disgrace
I never fit
I never belong
another velvet morning?
this is my song?
Ever seen the bottom of a whiskey bottle?
Ever seen a child crying?
Ever seen an old man robbed for a dollar?
ever seen the whole world dying?
ever seen a velvet morning?
listen to my words
listen to my warning
Another velvet morning?
another day dawning
hear the tears of the street
there's no one left to meet
I'll never find a home
there is no place
no matter how far I roam
I'll never fit
I'll never belong
another velvet morning?
this is my song
'so...
what do u like in a girl?'
'fun, warm, good personality and an allergy to clothing...'
40 divisions
of reinforced visions
inspected by neighbors
for sexual revisions
of wanting
and hoping
and totally needing
but the neighbors say no
to your new plans for seeding
conceding the nightmare
and wandering sky bound
your thoughts are your own
on cable TV
you don't like the channels
then doctors can cure you
you don't like the challenge
then check out unseen
the motel is distant
a memory you had once
but the doors are still open
and watching your path
and after you walked
for a night
and a lifetime
you find that your still
on cable TV
you blink and you watch
the whole series rerun
63 years
and never a hit
the best that you got
was a part as a cleaner
janitor man in scene 53
you look for the Tony
the Oscar
the Grammy
you look for applause
but find only tears
you wonder about
the dreams at the start scene
you wonder when
you traded for beans
I stayed up late that night
in case my contact came
just sitting there
smoking
thinking
still trying to work out my puzzle...
Hotel Lincoln
New York City
1939
Do I look like I have all the answers?
I just know some of the questions...
I just...
How about you?
You got any ideas?
At the time of writing this
I still haven't figured it out
so I hope you're not waiting for a startling revelation later on...
insular
insomnia
tied to my own thoughts
my own dreams
my own world
in fear of waking
taking
blood red fear
crystal tears
of yesterday
one hour till tomorrow
one hour of sorrow
spent staring through windows
at darkness
at yesterdays embers
at all I remember
in pity land
eventually I fell asleep...
Night can be so lonely sometimes
a thousand hours for thinking
for dreaming
undistracted...
One night
another night
endless nights
doorway sleeping
dream holding
golden thoughts
of futures
of hopes
of reasons you're alive still
no point being dead
when you can sleep
when you can dream
doorway sleeping
Last night
last light
fading halo
dying ember
of a dream
can't hope for ever
can't life with never
gotta break sometime
gotta start to climb
or the darkness gets you
or the darkness gets you
I tried TV for a part of my life
I love the medium of video
of film
of visual arts
but TV is so unsatisfying
there is so little good TV
so much of it is junk
formulaic
or a propaganda tool for some megalomaniac...
Scrub the dirt
clean
and clean
scrub the dirt
your mind is slipping
the filth is dripping
scene
by scene
taking hold of
something old that
used to live
in daddy's mind
got left behind
in being child like
just awaking
but mothers making
you scrub the dirt
until it hurts
clean
and clean
she says scrub the dirt
your mind is slipping
the filth is dripping
scene
by scene
I may have gone to sleep late
but I was awake early
for a guy that isn't officially staying in a hotel room I get a hell of a lot of visitors...
The door had gone while I was sleeping
and I'd been dreaming at the time
so it led to one of those strange cross over times
where the dream passes into reality
and the reality seeps in to your dream...
I had been dreaming about my sis
she is often in my thoughts
(she means the world to me
she's top of my list of priorities...)
so it's not surprising that she slips inside my dreams from time to time
I dreamt I'd gone down to visit her
it wasn't a spectacular action packed dream
we talked a little
walked a little
got a little silly
and laughed
we'd stood at her favourite place
watched the waters
talked about her dreams
and then walked home
messing about with some ball as we went
I don't know how she'd view our dreamed day out
but I enjoyed it
I smiled both in my sleeping world
and the waking one
and then the door went
and the cross over happened
that had me dreaming it was her knocking on the door...
To a sister kind and fair
a friend who's always there
let me thank you for the years
where you wiped away my tears
To a sister warm and fun
smiles more brightly than the sun
let me thank you once again
you're my very special friend
Sadly that dream wasn't one of the 'come true' variety
and when I got to the door I saw a twitchy guy through the spy hole
I didn't like the look of him
he looked very nervous
and nervous people make me nervous
so I put the safety on the door before opening it
he asked if I was...
I told him yes
and he said the man had sent him
I opened the door fully and invited him in
the guy struck me as a guy who probably had the strongest neck muscles in the world
as his head never stopped turning in a nervous search for danger...
I didn't offer him a drink
(not that I had any drinks to offer)
or the chance to sit down
his nervousness was not appreciated so I wanted this over and done with as quickly as possible
and he duly obliged
he handed me the package
a ticket
and an address
and then made his excuses and left
After he'd gone I took the parcel and hid it at the bottom of my back pack
then minutes later hid it under my pillow
then minutes later hid it in the bathroom
I hate having parcels about the place
paranoia city
moving it about every five minutes then deciding the new hiding place is just as dumb as the
last one
bottom line
there are no really good hiding places...
All I could do was pray
and invoke the gods for protection...
Oh Hera
Oh Samothea
Oh Triple Goddess
Hear my invocation
Hear my words
Show me a sign
Give me a lead
Your world has gone
Your Temple has gone
I am left alone
In an empty world of bricks and mortar
Where once stood your Temples and shrines
Now stands banks
Now stands roads
Money is the God
Gold the heroes
Gallantry is gone
True adventure is gone
I am left alone
In an empty world of bricks and mortar
When the Achaeans came down from the north
Defiled your name
Replaced you with Zeus
Did you lose hope
Give up on man?
Where have you gone?
Where have you gone?
Hear my invocation
Oh Hera
Oh Samothea
Oh Triple Goddess
It never hurts to pray
never hurts to believe...
Now I had a long journey ahead of me...
From Michigan I was scheduled to go through
Ohio
W.Virginia
Virginia
N.Carolina
S.Carolina
and Georgia
(Morning light in old town Georgia
Mrs Brown is out about
collecting for the lonely people
as the kids look on and shout
Mr Harding opens up late
over slept again today
drank to much the night before
fell asleep just where he lay
Morning light in old town Georgia
people stirring everywhere
Lisa Collins heads to school
dreading bullies waiting there)
before finally completing the connection in Florida
and from there a flight to Spain
and from Spain?
I'd already decided one way or another to trek north through Europe to get back to this little
place I know in Wales
A beautiful coastal paradise...
In the beginning
in a beginning
two weeks ago
near the end of this story
I recreated...
I retraced...
I...
I awoke
arose
walked from the house
down the road
along the winding path
to the beach
to thoughts of summer
'Drink up my friend
the bar is closing...'
The tide was going out
the salt hung in the air
wind whipped up the waves
and I turned north
and climbed the coast path
to the cliffs edge
looking out over the oceans beyond
and I sat upon a rock
and dreamt
my dream within my dream
within a dream
within a dream
but the dream had changed
the ships had gone
the shark swam in different waters
and the wooded valley was a tiny winding path
and the little shop had closed
and was now just a house...
People talked politics
instead of laughing
and I was old...
The girl in the bar loved me
but she didn't love me enough
only in my mind
but my mind is full of dreams
and the dreams are always changing...
The barman wanted to serve me with more than drinks
but I'd drunk to much already
and I wore a bright green shirt that I'd bought as someone else
and the sea kept on rolling
and the cliffs still stood and watched
but summer had gone...
It was all a different dream though
so is it relevant?
Only the ocean links it all..
The beach is still there
my beach
my world
and the Irish landlord
he'll serve you drinks anytime
anytime I tell him
day or night
we're open
and...
why am I here
why isn't everyone there
there isn't even a phone...
About time
I was losing my mind
waiting
debating
the what's
and why's
of what had happened
of what could happen
in a sea of time
almost frozen
ticking in moments
of milliseconds
of nanoseconds
waiting
waiting
Free falling fantasy fungi
Falling beneath my feet
Sails my mind into the sky
Heroes and villains to meet...
Time has moved on a lot over the last few years
the world
and my world
have changed dramatically
but so much is still the same
and it's often not for years till you actually notice the big changes
even though most of the little ones can't slip by without you seeing them...
A far away sound from a far away place
The sweet singing voice of a princess in lace
The mysterious judge in the planet of dreams
The distorted picture
nothings quite as it seems
A couple of strangers watch what you do
They're black then white then something else too
The feeling of panic with nowhere to run
You're never quite free but neither’s the sun
Virtual reality
but this time for real
You smell sweet roses
you reach and you feel
Again the two strangers they beckon and call
Grab hold of the curtain
be quick or you'll fall
The icy hand grabs at your shoulder
You suddenly realise your 14 yrs older...
And that's just the spirit of the age...
On the plus side this journey was going to give me time to work on my puzzle
on the negative side
I'm writing this a few weeks later so I know that thinking time didn't help much...
but...
I've still got time
Hotel Lincoln
New York City
1939
Do I look like I have all the answers?
I just know some of the questions...
I just...
I just wish I knew more of the answers...
but the clock ticks on
I wandered over to catch my bus
and headed south
looking out the window for a million miles
hoping to catch a lucky smile from a friend as I passed through various states
I knew at least one person in each place I was passing through
but I'm 'professional'
and don't pay social calls while I'm working
so I just gazed out the window hoping...
As I rolled down the country I left behind the winter
smiled through spring
before disembarking in summer
all journeys happen on many planes
it's not just a distance thing...
When I got to the airport
(which incidentally was the location of my drop off too
that made things easy
they stick airports in crazy places sometimes so if you have to do something somewhere else
that's two places to find...)
I found a computer terminal with Internet access and got online
I like the Internet
with moving around so much it allows me to keep in touch with people I might other wise lose
contact with
However it was a bad day
mucho bitching on one of the message boards I visit
now...
I might be a little crazy
I might be very crazy
(I don't know)
I know my life is at the very least unconventional
but...
the world is fucked up enough without added complications
I prefer the company or rational
'normal' people
So I wasn't as disappointed as I thought I'd be when they called my flight...
I was in a talk with someone the other day
(since all this happened)
and they know a little about my life
and they ask how can I justify my involvement with drugs over the years
and other crimes
when I see how it effects other people
especially innocent people
or children
I asked them
how could they justify living
and supporting a system that allowed people to get isolated
to slip through the cracks
to NEED to get involved to survive
I'm not proud of a lot of the things I've done in my life
some of them I'm down right ashamed of
but I didn't create the situations
or the need to do these things
so my shame is heavy
but should it be the heaviest?
I also have the consolation of trying my best to help people from the inside
I...
I might not be worth a lot
I might not be fantastically successful
but I try
and when it does work
it's worth it...
Smells like clinical
ever so cynical
washing away today
scrubbing and scraping
hoping you're making
the rerun occur
yesterday spurs
your hands cut and bleeding
from scrubbing and cleaning
dreaming and dreaming
although it's fading
so fuckin' degrading
the language
the actions
where is your world
smart boys
pretty girls
no language of shit
or crack
or
or
or...
it's never to late
to scrub and to scrape
the shit off the doorstep
wash away today
yesterdays calling
Outer limit
of inner mind
pushing
pushing
blinding light
of caffeine
and nicotine
and any teen
in the bar that night
black or white
it's all TV
it's all a dream
Inner pain
cold from dreaming
nothing left
internal screaming...
I scream
A silent scream
nothing more to say for now
except there are hopes hidden in my tears
and one day
one day
I believe it can be all right...
New York City
1939
Do I look like I have all the answers?
I just know some of the questions...
I just...
I just lay back on my bed and closed my eyes
let my mind wander for a while
searching the darker corners of my memory for sign of light
or life
or...
and all the time the water from the faucet in the bathroom dripped
drip by drip
drip
drip
drip
And I guess I could have got up to turn it off
it was annoying
but...
My mind was in to deep
I was focused on solving the problem before I was over taken by tiredness and sleep
much as I love dreams some answers only lie in reality...
There was a knock on the door
I fastened my belt
checked my hair in the mirror
and went to answer
one plate of buffalo wings and a bowl of fries
not my favorite supper but I was hungry and it's all I could get the girl in the kitchen to
rustle up for me
I had felt like asking for something else but she was risking her job enough for me as it was
I had officially checked out three days ago so...
Hotel workers are often good people
I seen them getting moaned at by guests but I always find them amiable and helpful
there's not many people who would give away free product but in hotels you find staff with
pass keys who will give you a room sometimes and kitchen staff who will supply you with free
suppers
even if it's buffalo wings and fries
I left the wings
I'm not a big meat man
but I ate the fries
it's good to eat sometimes
I hate it when you're forced to go without food for days and your stomach contracts and then
the famine is broken by some dish you absolutely love but you can't manage more than a mouthful
and you can't savour it and...
the down sides of poverty
although I shouldn't complain
I do OK
I'm alive
I eat
I usually have a room over my head
not always in summer but then I don't mind that
there is something addictive about the outdoors
it's nice to enjoy it sometimes
I've met a few homeless people in my life who got so used to outdoors that when the chance of
indoors came they turned it down
it can be addictive
but then so are most things
I remember the first time I became aware of an institutionalised person
I was in this kids home
well it was a kind of cross between a kids home and a juvenile prison
(there were cells there and things)
and it was this guy Harris's last day
he'd been there from age 7 to age 18 and now they couldn't let him stay any longer
law said he had to go
but it was all he knew
he'd never even really left the place to socialise at all
I mean we got these passes so that we could go out sometimes but I never saw Harris use one
and there he was
suddenly faced with the great out doors
and he burst in to tears and hung on to the gate
screaming and crying that he wouldn't leave
in the end he had to be ejected by force
I think I was about 10 at the time and I swore I'd never get like that
how could anyone love that place?
But I guess if it's home
if it's all you know
then you can love it
you can love anything under those circumstances...
I saw Harris years later when I was about 21 so he must have been about 29 by then and I was
in this bar
he walked in and bought himself a small beer
stood at the bar
talking to no one
then he looked across at me and smiled
I said 'hi'
he said 'hi' back
and then said
'they were good days...'
I smiled
I thought they were hell
but why shatter his dreams?
we talked a little
not much
it was clear he was clumsy around people
and I could tell from the few things he said that he was still hanging onto those gates
he still wanted to get back in and he'd never really settled in the real world
or maybe that was the real world and he could never settle for this pale imitation
I lay back on the bed again
loosened my belt and closed my eyes
now what was I looking for?
'That's out of order, that's fuckin' out of order, you're going out of here on your back...'
I put on my jacket
said goodnight and left
I had a dream once
I so often do
I dreamt
in this particular dream
that I was standing in a parking lot and two guys were threatening me
one was white
one was black
I couldn't hear what they were saying but I was very afraid
The white guy pulled a gun and fired it at me and my world went black
I woke up
my chest was throbbing
my eyes were fogged
and I was sweating and very afraid
I didn't get back to sleep that night
I knew it was only a dream
well...
A nightmare but it had been so real
and had scared me so much
I couldn't sleep until the light came...
6 months later I was in a new town
and I was standing in a parking lot
just outside the apartment building I was staying in
when two guys approached me
one white
one black
they started shouting at me
and I ran
and leapt over a wall
as I flew over the wall I heard the noise of a gun being discharged behind me...
what's it all about?
Sometimes people don't realise why I write
I write to try and make sense of things
I read the words on the paper or on the screen and look at them and try and figure out what it
was all about...
I very rarely find an answer...
If you were me
or I was you
would we understand any better?
I dream of the salt of tears
there's something special in it's taste
it's not regular salt
but salt flavoured with emotion
with hopes
or pains
pleasures
or despairs
answers
or questions
I dream of the salt of tears
and what it's going to tell me
next time...
'Yesterday
all my troubles seemed so far away...'
I wonder...
I...
and then...
and then I drift
surrounded by half answers
and many more questions
but I try to hold the line
transfixed by hope
that if I untie the knots then...
but Alexander cut it
that was his secret...
At the bottom of the Caldera is a million answers
but the walls are gonna crack before we find them
there's faults all around the place and it's still highly active
no way we'll find the answers before it's to late
but I been down there
o yes
I dived and dived
deeper and deeper
down and down
into swirling darkness of history
and mystery
surrounded by answers from thousands of years ago
kissed by energies that...
and all the time I'm holding it
holding answers
secret answers
not all the answers but...
and I smile
I smile because I know
and because I can know
and because I know one day
yes
one day
it'll be OK...
It's all roundabouts
circles
karma
whatever you want to call it
I let me get robbed
but ain't I robbing some guy when I'm getting a free hotel room for the night
or tucking into some fries brought curtesy of the smiling kitchen girl?
she did have a cute smile...
if the world had been different I think I might have made a pass at her
but...
Hotel Lincoln
New York City
1939
Do I look like I have all the answers?
I just know some of the questions...
I just...
I just wish I could make sense of it all
you know what I mean?
It just rolls on
like it's meant to be this way
like this is normal
but no one else seems to do it this way
not from what I can tell...
but then
whatever way they do it
does it give them any more answers?
I bet they want to make sense of it too...
I put out my joint
closed my eyes
reached across in the darkness to turn out the light
and allowed myself to drift off into sleep
I'd thought enough for one night
now was time for dream time
stories of when...
and the real world...
The harsh morning light forced itself through the crack in the curtain and into my dreams
flooding my senses and dragging me into consciousness
I coughed a little
then a lot
trying to clear my throat of the nastiness that invaded my body
the poisons
the toxins
the chemicals
from cars
from cigarettes
from drugs
from my way of life
I rolled over
stretched
and tried to find a position of comfort from the aches of my body
I hate mornings
full of reminders of how bad I am
how far behind I've left my youth
maybe with a different life it wouldn't show so much
but the years haven't been kind to my insides
and every waking reminds me of this fact...
I looked at the phone
wouldn't it be nice if I could use it?
but I wasn't there so...
that meant the phone couldn't be used for calls
I had a call to make
but to make it I had to climb out of bed
get dressed
slip out the back way
and walk a quarter of a mile
no big deal really
but a useful reminder of how much we take the telephone for granted...
I looked out the window
ice showers...
fuck I hate winters
to damn cold
I guess I could put up with them if my life was settled but when you have to spend so much
time in them
and so much times of doubt
they weigh heavy at the front of your mind
like...
I'm not a million miles away
I'm just walkin' down another road
feelin' tired
and kinda cold
but that ain't a problem
and if it was
would it matter?
so what if the ice rains splatter
into my face
like tears of hell
it's just a way to tell
that I'm still breathing
and if I scream out loud
just ignore me
it's just frustration
and the constant alienation
of another day
and how I walk this way
no matter what the radio is playing
no matter what the TV's saying
cuz that's the way it is...
and everyone's an angel
in there own sweet way
so it ain't so bad
not really
Winters always remind me of St. Albert
up in Edmonton Alberta
o Canada
we had bad winters up there
but...
I was never there that long
one hot summer
and one bad winter
the summer was fun
water balloon fight
water balloon war
it was wild
it went on all summer
one fight
one side of the neighborhood against the other
24/7
kids were sneaking out of bed at 3 am to take their watch
never ending
it was impossible
for anyone of any age
to cross the lines without attack
the adults really did lose control of the streets
forget the usual crimes
and the usual suspects
the army of water bombers ruled the streets
it was funny watching the old fashioned street gangs
at first they tried to counter with violence
but we were to smart for them
we were armed after all
we didn't need to battle at close quarters
we could wait patiently on top of a building
and then...
sniper attack
a flurry of bombs
one drenched gang
it was funny to see the hard men
the gangsters
the street criminals
first aggressive
then cautious
then disappearing
maybe the cops should adopt the tactic?
but the cops didn't...
they wanted the bombers
there had been enough complaints
it was huge
maybe 200 people on each side
some of which permanently on duty
attacks anywhere
anytime
it had even drifted into downtown
and I can see the chief and the mayor in conference
'this has got to stop'
the police came in mob handed
they took a pounding
but in return they made arrests
the bombers retreated
and things quietened
but didn't stop
after a while the arrested got bailed
but things never returned to how they were before
I can see the cops basking in their glory
but they shouldn't
it wasn't their action that stopped us
it was the fact that winter was coming
water balloon wars aren't so fun in winter
when water becomes ice
hard and cold...
I was still a relative stranger in the area when the winter rolled in
I'd got my name known in the water wars
I'd displayed myself quite favorably at the time
shown myself to be a good soldier
but I hadn't been there long
and I regained an air of mystery
I was about 12
I'd already travelled a great deal
being passed from one place to another
so I had habits
and an accent
and stories
of places mysterious
that made me interesting to some people
but still a stranger
I didn't attend school
I never really did
when I had the opportunities
(which were rare and far between)
I chose not to as it was a world that I didn't really know
it was strange
and a little frightening to me
besides I wasn't very good at school things
later in my life I would be diagnosed with mild dyslexia
which doesn't help at school
and because I'd missed so much I couldn't answer many of the questions
which made me look stupid
and I wasn't
I may not be the smartest person on the planet but I'm not stupid
so...
I never went
which helped build up my air of mystery
People liked my air of mystery
they liked the stories I told
about the places I'd been
that they dreamt of going to
about the things I'd seen that people our age just didn't see
unless fate was dealing them strange cards
(fate forgot to take out the joker when she dealt to me)
and that all added to my air of mystery
and in a way I was also seen as 'wise'
cuz I knew places and things they didn't
and they believed every word I said
which in 90% of cases was the right decision
but...
I was 12
I'm entitled to 10% aren't I?
as the nights got shorter
and colder
a number of us began congregating in an old disused building
and the stories started flowing
darker and darker
and I began the tales of Dr. Death
now it's easier to tell a story to a crowd than it is to write it down
as you can see their reactions and adapt the story accordingly
so the story followed the others into darker and darker corners
where there was guaranteed to be more...
'interesting' reactions
Dr. Death was an old hippie
who had turned bad
he dressed in a long flowing coat
and a top hat
and rode around the world on a motorcycle
his mind had been poisoned by a bad crop of drugs and turned him into a homicidal madman
or so my story went
people never saw him
as he travelled secretly at night
but if you ever did see him it was time to be scared as most people who ever saw him wound up
dead
they called him Dr. Death as he killed by fatal injection
the poison was made by himself
an hallucinogenic poison
first you tripped
then you died
and the others got more and more scared
first night I told the tales of Dr. Death
one or two people decided at the end of the night to walk home together
not that they were scared of course but...
it amused me
in my little 12 year old mind
second night some didn't show up at all
and more went home in groups
and so the pattern was established
more and more fear
night after night
and everyone believed me
until one night
there was a murder on the edge of town
I can't remember who was murdered
or how
but it was to big an opportunity to miss
so I incorporated it into my story
it was official now
Dr. Death was in St. Albert
the fear reached fever pitch
people were afraid to go out at night
or to walk anywhere alone
and parents started getting concerned
'so why aren't you going out tonight?'
'but mom...
Dr. Death'
or...
'mom, you know that murder...'
The fears and concerns spread to the parents
and from there it was only a matter of time before the cops were called in
they weren't impressed
they showed up at the school and made a speech about how everyone should remain cautious
but that Dr. Death was fictional
some people thought it was a cover up
but the hysteria died
and the night meetings returned to a more normal footing
I wasn't looking to good though
the cops had been out to see the family who was looking after me already over the water bomb
war
they'd claimed I was a ring leader
I wasn't
but...
new face in town often gets the blame
and now they were knocking on the door over my nightly horror stories
that and the lack of attendance at school really ended things for them
I was told they couldn't look after me anymore
I wasn't at St. Albert long
one long hot summer
and one bad cold winter
but it was fun...
I looked back from the window
and the cold streets below
had to make that phone call didn't I?
I got dressed
and opened my room door
I checked both ways
I couldn't afford to be seen
and slipped out into the corridor and over to the stairwell
as I walked down the stairs my mind slipped back to my conundrum
Hotel Lincoln
New York City
1939
Do I look like I have all the answers?
I just know some of the questions...
I just...
I knew 1939 represented the year and not a room number
but that didn't help much
I was way to young to have been alive then
so my knowledge of that year was limited
and I'm not hugely knowledgeable about New York either
I needed to find an old New Yorker to help me with this one
but I didn't know one...
C'est la vie...
but I didn't have time for all this right now
I was nearing the bottom of the stairs and I needed to be alert so that I could sneak out
unnoticed onto the streets of Detroit...
I didn't like Detroit much at the time
it had the usual sky scrapers
it had a fancy elevated mono rail
the usual sports arena and conference center
all the fine things you expect at the heart of a modern city
except residents
less people live in the heart of Detroit than live in a small village
on a Friday or Saturday night in New York
or London
or most cities
the streets are teaming with people
with nightlife
with action
it's fuckin' expensive but thousands of people live there
Downtown Detroit
on the other hand
on a Friday or Saturday night
seemed almost closed
a few late workers trying to make their way home
and that's about it
the place seemed dead
no atmosphere
nothing
but I learnt
and...
and there is Greektown...
it was lucky for me that they built a Greektown in Detroit
the Greeks are a friendly
helpful
hospital people
by tradition and by nature
so it was good to have some on my doorstep
I have a lot of Greek history
so I often look to my Greek brothers in time of need
and the use of a phone wasn't a massive ask...
At this very moment
with the ice splattering in my face
I wished I was back in Greece...
I used to love being on Santorini
it's a beautiful island
and soaked in history
the whole Island is a volcano
and it's an eruption in about 1250 BC that is credited with destroying the minoan civilisation
the island is also credited by some people
(including many fine scholars)
as being Atlantis
and it was the eruption in around 1250 BC that displaced many people from surrounding islands to swell the numbers of the sea people
the sea people were a group of nomadic, pirate like people
they attacked Egypt a few times
which kept the Egyptians busy and helped give Moses the chance to flee
also if you check your biblical plagues
much of them can probably be tied into the eruption of Santorini
as can the changing water level that allowed Moses to cross but not his pursuers
and...
if that's not enough
many people link the sea people with the philistines
who settled in the area we call Israel just before Moses arrival there
made homeless by the eruption they settled on the mainland east of the islands
and the philistines
as history shows us
were to become the Palestinians
so that eruption in about 1250 BC played a major role in history right up to today
without it would Moses have left?
would the Palestinians been there on his arrival?
who knows?
I don't
but it helps to indicate the power and the history of Santorini
The whole center of the island was blown away in the eruption
it was the largest known eruption since man 'ruled' the planet
and it left an outer ring
broken only in a couple of places
and a couple of inner islands
Palaia Kameni
and Nea Kameni
Now Nea Kameni which is about 2500 meters by 2500 meters is now the center of the volcano
still very active
spewing it's fumes and gases into the air
there are rocks on Nea Kameni that are so hot you can fry an egg on them
and the tourists would turn up for a slow, hot, sweat drenched walk around the island
and then feel strange as I would run past them
I liked to jog around the island
but with the heat and the terrain
I was considered a little insane for doing so...
Santorini was originally called Kalliste which in Greek meant the most beautiful one
that's an apt name
it will always carry the name Kalliste in my heart
but it wasn't just the beauty
or the history
or the power of the place
it was also very much the people
I'd turned up there on my travels as a very young child
I was not with pleasant people at the time
and the owner of a local store spotted this
and took me in
he taught me the Greek ways
and made me proud to be associated with the Greek people
friendly
helpful
hospital people
by tradition and by nature...
I rolled into the place and went up to the owner
asked him if I could use his phone
he looked at me a little quizzically at first
but then noticed my charm around my neck
the Greek connection
he smiled
ushered me into the back
and let me use the phone
before I'd even finished dialling his wife had brought me something to eat
and a glass of ouzo...
At first there was no answer
at the other end of the line
that surprised me
it was early so I hadn't figured on anyone being out at that time
but no answer is no answer
so I replaced the handset
and ate
and drank
and the owner came in the back
and we talked
and drank some more
it was a good morning
I explained my contact wasn't there
he said it was cool and that I was welcome to stick around and try again in a while
so I did...
I noticed a number of books on his shelves
some fitted my tastes
others didn't
but books have always played a part in my life
it's funny I guess
being mildly dyslexic
me loving books
but I do
I noticed Kerouac on his shelf
I remember discovering Kerouac and the impact it had on my life
I was about 21 at the time I think
I'd never heard of Kerouac or the beat movement
it was an unknown quantity to me
I'd just been given a short sentence in jail
I ended up doing about 6 months
nothing much
I can't remember what it was for on that occasion
but if I only did 6 months it was something pretty trivial...
I got taken to the prison library on about my 3rd day and I found a copy of 'On The Road' by Jack
Kerouac on the shelf
I can't remember what attracted me to it but I picked it up and took it back to my cell and
read it that day
it was big
I'd always loved reading but this was the first time I'd ever found a book that was about
'my world'
A book full of characters and places I could understand
a book that touched me
next day I went back to the library and got out a copy of 'Desolation Angels'
then after that The 'Dharma Bums' and 'Big Sur'
Jail is a good place to get introduced to Jack Kerouac
it affords you the opportunity to read the books as they should be read
in one sitting...
And now here I was
all these years later staring at Kerouac on my Greek friends shelf
and I couldn't help wondering what his story was
it's one of the quirks of life
ever reader of beat books has a story
it's one of those things
I guess it's cuz of the realism of the books and the way they can touch you
I mean...
you can be a fan of Ian Fleming and the James Bond books but the chances are you are neither a
spy or a megalomaniac Villain with designs on global control...
but a reader of beat?
chances are he's done a stint fire watching up a mountain
or spent a while on the road
or lived/visited some of the places in the books
maybe they have a drugs past
or love the jazz scene
they don't have to have been touched by all these things
but the probability is that one of the factors from the books relates to their life
they enjoy the stories because it touches them
and they usually have their own stories...
I didn't ask him what his story was
I wasn't in a mood for idle chatter
I wanted him to leave so I would have the privacy to try again to make my connection...
After a while
and far to many glasses of ouzo
my friend left
and I picked up the phone again and dialled the number
this time there was an answer
I explained who I was
and I explained I needed to make some money
he said it could be arranged
I'd have to carry a package down to Florida but there would be a healthy reward
I agreed
gave him my hotel room number
(explaining how I shouldn't be there)
and hung up
As I walked out of the place I turned to my host
thanked him for his help
and asked him
'Hotel Lincoln
New York City
1939?'
He looked at me blankly and shrugged
I hadn't expected an answer
but you never know
sometimes you get answers from the least expected places...
When I got back to the hotel I found a 'conference' of soldiers
I found this amusing
the night before there had been a 'conference' for singles
a 'mingle and get to meet people party'
which was really a front for a call girl racquet
and now the soldiers
coincidence or...
it amused my little mind...
glass slipper kissed the mind
of holy fuck
and hear me blind
with every sound
within a whisper
ticking of an iron bell
or is a belle
a bon voyage
of maiden flights
and ghostly nights
of slipped inside a circle
going somewhere
and how many ways are freeways
even if the sign points north
and carries on for never
or ever
turning on the plate
of open comfort
and all that can be said
is mother are you watching
can you hear me?
Dream inside
dream outside
but remember
some ones always watching
some quiet guy
waiting in the elevator
or standing in the lobby
watchers everywhere
and not a dream to leave you...
Legends are made and bred by...
Or...
As Jung said
'What we are to our inward vision, and what man appears to be sub speciae aeternitatis,
can only be expressed by way of myth.
Myth is more individual and expresses life more precisely than does science.'
Myth and fact
two sides of the coin
interchangeable
one often mistaken for the other
each way
both ways
highways
it's all in the past
but often
it's the future...
Key of F minor
carried on the wind
the four elements
F, G, C, E flat...
one
two
five
with a flattened seventh
but that's a different story
a different question...
but...
Hotel Lincoln
New York City
1939
Do I look like I have all the answers?
I just know some of the questions...
I just...
I just laid back on my bed again
loosened my belt
and went back to thinking...
I guess I must have been more tired than I realised as I slipped into a sleep
I do that more often these days
I seem to have trouble sleeping at nights
for one reason or another
and so I need to catch up the time somehow
and that's often during a quiet reflective moment in the day
I also think sleep
and dreaming
is part of my natural thought process
that might sound weird
that might be weird
but the world of dream and thought
conscious and sub conscious seem to be linked somehow
and to reach where I need to go in one part
I have to travel to the other
not that my dreams that day were particularly ground breaking or revealing
but then my thoughts can often focus on the trivial too...
recurring dreams of the desert...
it's funny how we posses the ability to dream of things that happened before we existed...
reincarnation?
Is there anything to it?
I really can't say
I thought about it one day and came up with a theory
but I don't know if it's right or not
I figured that when we are born we are born with DNA from our parents
inside that DNA is certain information that teaches us some things
and I figured if that's true
and science says it is
then it's possible that inside that DNA is not just the color of our hair, our eyes and a few
simple instructions
but inside that DNA there is also
possibly
memories
we are made from the same building blocks as our parents
well maybe more is in those blocks than we realise
maybe they give us everything that occurred to them before we were born
we know that our memories are far more powerful than we can use
and that we can store huge amounts of data
so it's possible
and if we get our parents memories
then they must have had their parents
and so on
until we remember everything back to the beginning
and as we inter breed then so we add more information to the pool
I don't know how we tap in to that pool
but I believe that some people do it by accident sometimes
and I figure all that as being a kind of reincarnation
when I die
my building blocks
my memories
will live on in my children
so by default so do I...
And how does all this fit with the religions and cultures that believe in reincarnation?
I guess it fits loosely
after all
they all teach that we should try our best
and the better the life we lead the better our future life will be
and that figures under the theory
after all
the better a life we lead
the better information we are passing on to our offspring
so the us that is alive in them will benefit from a better existence in our previous life
or something like that
maybe I should have spent that day more wisely
but it's a theory
it was interesting to think about
and I'd be interested to see how it stands up
with my limited scientific knowledge it seems to stand up...
movie quotes that weren't quite as clever as the script writer thought...
'You can't shoot a dead man...'
Yes you can actually
he's dead already so it probably won't hurt much
or achieve much
but there's nothing to stop you doing it...
Yesterday gone
gone tripped south
to the desert
repeated themes
come visit
but the day has flown
whispering your name to follow
but it's hollow
with it's promises...
I seen the inside of a million rooms
but every empty room is the same...
...and all the flowers
in all the gardens
pale by you...
Sleep
deep sleep
deep deep sleep
nothing to report but dreams
seams of dreams
to be mined
by my mind...
I still love every girl I've ever loved
and I think I always will
there's something special about love
and the memories it leaves for you
and the dreams it gives to you
and the hope it feeds you for the future...
I've never understood why some people are bitter to the ones they've loved before
If you loved them enough to be their lover
surely there must be enough love there to be their friend...
I was woken by a knock at the door
no voice
just a knock
I slid quietly over to the door
I didn't want to give away the fact that I was in there
I wasn't meant to be
so it made sense to go with the silent slide
besides I guess my past has filled me with a certain level of paranoia
I've been places where the man who isn't scared is soon dead
and I didn't want to meet those people again
not for a while yet
for some perverse reason I've held on to life for this long
I'm not going to throw that away
not without a reason
and answering hotel doors is not a valid reason...
I looked through the spy hole
(is there a proper name for those things?)
and saw the smiling face of my friendly little kitchen assistant
she'd brought me some food and a drink
pizza today
that suited me
I liked pizza...
I also liked this girl
she was very cute
maybe in a different world
under different circumstances I might have told her that
hell...
maybe one day she'll read this and know
but the time wasn't right
it wasn't a time for risks...
I'd been trying to straighten my life out for a while
no more risks
no more trouble
I wanted a good life
a clean life
circumstances had prevented me having a life like that but I was determined to try and be the
best I could
and not to get involved unless I had to
and that included not getting myself thrown on to frozen streets just cuz I thought a girl
looked cute...
But...
here I was in Detroit
waiting on a package to take to Florida
I didn't know what was in the package
it wasn't my place to ask
and to be honest I didn't rightly want to know
but...
well if it was totally legal then I'm sure the post service could have taken care of it
and for a fraction of the money I was going to be paid...
I'm not proud of much of my life
of the things I've done
but you don't always have a choice in things
free choice is a myth
unless you count the choice between life and death
I wasn't happy with what I was going to do
but it was the hand dealt to me
and survival dictated I had to see it through...
but I am trying to be better...
Another Velvet Morning?
No reason
no warning
Feel my tears on your face
Looking for another place
Trying to find my home
can't find my place
though I roam
I never fit
I never belong
another velvet morning?
this is my song
Another velvet morning?
another day dawning
Hear my tears on the street
looking for people to meet
I'm trying to find a place
can't find a home
I'm a disgrace
I never fit
I never belong
another velvet morning?
this is my song?
Ever seen the bottom of a whiskey bottle?
Ever seen a child crying?
Ever seen an old man robbed for a dollar?
ever seen the whole world dying?
ever seen a velvet morning?
listen to my words
listen to my warning
Another velvet morning?
another day dawning
hear the tears of the street
there's no one left to meet
I'll never find a home
there is no place
no matter how far I roam
I'll never fit
I'll never belong
another velvet morning?
this is my song
'so...
what do u like in a girl?'
'fun, warm, good personality and an allergy to clothing...'
40 divisions
of reinforced visions
inspected by neighbors
for sexual revisions
of wanting
and hoping
and totally needing
but the neighbors say no
to your new plans for seeding
conceding the nightmare
and wandering sky bound
your thoughts are your own
on cable TV
you don't like the channels
then doctors can cure you
you don't like the challenge
then check out unseen
the motel is distant
a memory you had once
but the doors are still open
and watching your path
and after you walked
for a night
and a lifetime
you find that your still
on cable TV
you blink and you watch
the whole series rerun
63 years
and never a hit
the best that you got
was a part as a cleaner
janitor man in scene 53
you look for the Tony
the Oscar
the Grammy
you look for applause
but find only tears
you wonder about
the dreams at the start scene
you wonder when
you traded for beans
I stayed up late that night
in case my contact came
just sitting there
smoking
thinking
still trying to work out my puzzle...
Hotel Lincoln
New York City
1939
Do I look like I have all the answers?
I just know some of the questions...
I just...
How about you?
You got any ideas?
At the time of writing this
I still haven't figured it out
so I hope you're not waiting for a startling revelation later on...
insular
insomnia
tied to my own thoughts
my own dreams
my own world
in fear of waking
taking
blood red fear
crystal tears
of yesterday
one hour till tomorrow
one hour of sorrow
spent staring through windows
at darkness
at yesterdays embers
at all I remember
in pity land
eventually I fell asleep...
Night can be so lonely sometimes
a thousand hours for thinking
for dreaming
undistracted...
One night
another night
endless nights
doorway sleeping
dream holding
golden thoughts
of futures
of hopes
of reasons you're alive still
no point being dead
when you can sleep
when you can dream
doorway sleeping
Last night
last light
fading halo
dying ember
of a dream
can't hope for ever
can't life with never
gotta break sometime
gotta start to climb
or the darkness gets you
or the darkness gets you
I tried TV for a part of my life
I love the medium of video
of film
of visual arts
but TV is so unsatisfying
there is so little good TV
so much of it is junk
formulaic
or a propaganda tool for some megalomaniac...
Scrub the dirt
clean
and clean
scrub the dirt
your mind is slipping
the filth is dripping
scene
by scene
taking hold of
something old that
used to live
in daddy's mind
got left behind
in being child like
just awaking
but mothers making
you scrub the dirt
until it hurts
clean
and clean
she says scrub the dirt
your mind is slipping
the filth is dripping
scene
by scene
I may have gone to sleep late
but I was awake early
for a guy that isn't officially staying in a hotel room I get a hell of a lot of visitors...
The door had gone while I was sleeping
and I'd been dreaming at the time
so it led to one of those strange cross over times
where the dream passes into reality
and the reality seeps in to your dream...
I had been dreaming about my sis
she is often in my thoughts
(she means the world to me
she's top of my list of priorities...)
so it's not surprising that she slips inside my dreams from time to time
I dreamt I'd gone down to visit her
it wasn't a spectacular action packed dream
we talked a little
walked a little
got a little silly
and laughed
we'd stood at her favourite place
watched the waters
talked about her dreams
and then walked home
messing about with some ball as we went
I don't know how she'd view our dreamed day out
but I enjoyed it
I smiled both in my sleeping world
and the waking one
and then the door went
and the cross over happened
that had me dreaming it was her knocking on the door...
To a sister kind and fair
a friend who's always there
let me thank you for the years
where you wiped away my tears
To a sister warm and fun
smiles more brightly than the sun
let me thank you once again
you're my very special friend
Sadly that dream wasn't one of the 'come true' variety
and when I got to the door I saw a twitchy guy through the spy hole
I didn't like the look of him
he looked very nervous
and nervous people make me nervous
so I put the safety on the door before opening it
he asked if I was...
I told him yes
and he said the man had sent him
I opened the door fully and invited him in
the guy struck me as a guy who probably had the strongest neck muscles in the world
as his head never stopped turning in a nervous search for danger...
I didn't offer him a drink
(not that I had any drinks to offer)
or the chance to sit down
his nervousness was not appreciated so I wanted this over and done with as quickly as possible
and he duly obliged
he handed me the package
a ticket
and an address
and then made his excuses and left
After he'd gone I took the parcel and hid it at the bottom of my back pack
then minutes later hid it under my pillow
then minutes later hid it in the bathroom
I hate having parcels about the place
paranoia city
moving it about every five minutes then deciding the new hiding place is just as dumb as the
last one
bottom line
there are no really good hiding places...
All I could do was pray
and invoke the gods for protection...
Oh Hera
Oh Samothea
Oh Triple Goddess
Hear my invocation
Hear my words
Show me a sign
Give me a lead
Your world has gone
Your Temple has gone
I am left alone
In an empty world of bricks and mortar
Where once stood your Temples and shrines
Now stands banks
Now stands roads
Money is the God
Gold the heroes
Gallantry is gone
True adventure is gone
I am left alone
In an empty world of bricks and mortar
When the Achaeans came down from the north
Defiled your name
Replaced you with Zeus
Did you lose hope
Give up on man?
Where have you gone?
Where have you gone?
Hear my invocation
Oh Hera
Oh Samothea
Oh Triple Goddess
It never hurts to pray
never hurts to believe...
Now I had a long journey ahead of me...
From Michigan I was scheduled to go through
Ohio
W.Virginia
Virginia
N.Carolina
S.Carolina
and Georgia
(Morning light in old town Georgia
Mrs Brown is out about
collecting for the lonely people
as the kids look on and shout
Mr Harding opens up late
over slept again today
drank to much the night before
fell asleep just where he lay
Morning light in old town Georgia
people stirring everywhere
Lisa Collins heads to school
dreading bullies waiting there)
before finally completing the connection in Florida
and from there a flight to Spain
and from Spain?
I'd already decided one way or another to trek north through Europe to get back to this little
place I know in Wales
A beautiful coastal paradise...
In the beginning
in a beginning
two weeks ago
near the end of this story
I recreated...
I retraced...
I...
I awoke
arose
walked from the house
down the road
along the winding path
to the beach
to thoughts of summer
'Drink up my friend
the bar is closing...'
The tide was going out
the salt hung in the air
wind whipped up the waves
and I turned north
and climbed the coast path
to the cliffs edge
looking out over the oceans beyond
and I sat upon a rock
and dreamt
my dream within my dream
within a dream
within a dream
but the dream had changed
the ships had gone
the shark swam in different waters
and the wooded valley was a tiny winding path
and the little shop had closed
and was now just a house...
People talked politics
instead of laughing
and I was old...
The girl in the bar loved me
but she didn't love me enough
only in my mind
but my mind is full of dreams
and the dreams are always changing...
The barman wanted to serve me with more than drinks
but I'd drunk to much already
and I wore a bright green shirt that I'd bought as someone else
and the sea kept on rolling
and the cliffs still stood and watched
but summer had gone...
It was all a different dream though
so is it relevant?
Only the ocean links it all..
The beach is still there
my beach
my world
and the Irish landlord
he'll serve you drinks anytime
anytime I tell him
day or night
we're open
and...
why am I here
why isn't everyone there
there isn't even a phone...
About time
I was losing my mind
waiting
debating
the what's
and why's
of what had happened
of what could happen
in a sea of time
almost frozen
ticking in moments
of milliseconds
of nanoseconds
waiting
waiting
Free falling fantasy fungi
Falling beneath my feet
Sails my mind into the sky
Heroes and villains to meet...
Time has moved on a lot over the last few years
the world
and my world
have changed dramatically
but so much is still the same
and it's often not for years till you actually notice the big changes
even though most of the little ones can't slip by without you seeing them...
A far away sound from a far away place
The sweet singing voice of a princess in lace
The mysterious judge in the planet of dreams
The distorted picture
nothings quite as it seems
A couple of strangers watch what you do
They're black then white then something else too
The feeling of panic with nowhere to run
You're never quite free but neither’s the sun
Virtual reality
but this time for real
You smell sweet roses
you reach and you feel
Again the two strangers they beckon and call
Grab hold of the curtain
be quick or you'll fall
The icy hand grabs at your shoulder
You suddenly realise your 14 yrs older...
And that's just the spirit of the age...
On the plus side this journey was going to give me time to work on my puzzle
on the negative side
I'm writing this a few weeks later so I know that thinking time didn't help much...
but...
I've still got time
Hotel Lincoln
New York City
1939
Do I look like I have all the answers?
I just know some of the questions...
I just...
I just wish I knew more of the answers...
but the clock ticks on
I wandered over to catch my bus
and headed south
looking out the window for a million miles
hoping to catch a lucky smile from a friend as I passed through various states
I knew at least one person in each place I was passing through
but I'm 'professional'
and don't pay social calls while I'm working
so I just gazed out the window hoping...
As I rolled down the country I left behind the winter
smiled through spring
before disembarking in summer
all journeys happen on many planes
it's not just a distance thing...
When I got to the airport
(which incidentally was the location of my drop off too
that made things easy
they stick airports in crazy places sometimes so if you have to do something somewhere else
that's two places to find...)
I found a computer terminal with Internet access and got online
I like the Internet
with moving around so much it allows me to keep in touch with people I might other wise lose
contact with
However it was a bad day
mucho bitching on one of the message boards I visit
now...
I might be a little crazy
I might be very crazy
(I don't know)
I know my life is at the very least unconventional
but...
the world is fucked up enough without added complications
I prefer the company or rational
'normal' people
So I wasn't as disappointed as I thought I'd be when they called my flight...
I was in a talk with someone the other day
(since all this happened)
and they know a little about my life
and they ask how can I justify my involvement with drugs over the years
and other crimes
when I see how it effects other people
especially innocent people
or children
I asked them
how could they justify living
and supporting a system that allowed people to get isolated
to slip through the cracks
to NEED to get involved to survive
I'm not proud of a lot of the things I've done in my life
some of them I'm down right ashamed of
but I didn't create the situations
or the need to do these things
so my shame is heavy
but should it be the heaviest?
I also have the consolation of trying my best to help people from the inside
I...
I might not be worth a lot
I might not be fantastically successful
but I try
and when it does work
it's worth it...
Smells like clinical
ever so cynical
washing away today
scrubbing and scraping
hoping you're making
the rerun occur
yesterday spurs
your hands cut and bleeding
from scrubbing and cleaning
dreaming and dreaming
although it's fading
so fuckin' degrading
the language
the actions
where is your world
smart boys
pretty girls
no language of shit
or crack
or
or
or...
it's never to late
to scrub and to scrape
the shit off the doorstep
wash away today
yesterdays calling
Outer limit
of inner mind
pushing
pushing
blinding light
of caffeine
and nicotine
and any teen
in the bar that night
black or white
it's all TV
it's all a dream
Inner pain
cold from dreaming
nothing left
internal screaming...
I scream
A silent scream
nothing more to say for now
except there are hopes hidden in my tears
and one day
one day
I believe it can be all right...