collab

Sunday, June 28, 2020

Ooh Baby Baby



Look at this "baby" singing the heck out of one
of my very favorite old Smokey songs
OOH, BABY, BABY.......wow


you go, kid!!!!



And this version......oh sweet Lord, I'm
going to swoon!!!!! oh geez....
I am melting here.....💋💖😍😎

The Scare Crow That I Am




the Scare Crow that I am



dead cornstalks hanging there in scattered rows
like broken mummified men
like me........
but they have ancient cornfields in which to stand
I have no place to be and no reason to exist

surveying the neglected countryside of my youth
and the forgotten fields that once were fruitful
I feel like the aftermath of a hurricane
and a desecrated cemetery

hopelessness walks around me in the mist
the cold gray morning whispers like a lover
who no longer loves but despises
and I try to cry but cannot well up tears
the ducts are as dry as the heart

why do we always run home
 when our souls are snapped in two?
do we think we'll find ourselves there 
in those broken windows, those cobwebs,
those untended gardens and uninhabited pastures?

I couldn't wait to leave those hills and valleys
to run to the city and to the fulfillment of my dreams
I couldn't wait to leave home, to leave behind  
humiliations, real and imagined, to search for proud pursuits
and now this, the last straw on my humbled back:

home does not exist anymore, neither here nor there
the once green cornfields are now only haunting memories
like the love of my true love lost in the war of life
I walk into the corn rows and pose myself among 
the decaying stalks like the scarecrow that I am


and hang my head when even the crows laugh at my pain.






©by Voo

March 7, 2005
 7:30 p.m.

Saturday, June 27, 2020

Insanity of the Tribes



         Earth Drum song



Insanity of the Tribes
             a collab result of......................
                  (Mental Wrestling across the Miles)


                     He

The water rippled across her back
Her long dark mane of hair a duck tail at the end
Drenched were we both in the stream
As I pulled her from the rivers edge
Coughing, we took stock of our wounds.

                   I

And I, in wet and wild dismay
Fought, not ungently, against the flow
Curious, bewildered, wanting, not wanting
Tasting water I had yet to drink
I found a kind of healing in your hands.

                       He

We breathed shallow on the banks
My love, an arrowhead buried in her thigh
The insanity of the tribes, my silent cry
And a small wince as I pulled it from her flesh
We held tight and I stopped the bleeding with clay and leaves.

                               I

You have hurt me, I said without accusation
For I did not know the ways of man,
The way of the warrior beyond my boundaries
You have torn me and healed me again
You, with the eyes of a tribe I've never touched.

                             He

There was a silence between my love and I 
We whispered  words together, with inaudible sound
As our flesh drew close, I said:
" I am a human being and I recognize nothing other than this love,
This need of you."

                                 He

On every side there flew the arrow
The sound of gunfire, the cry of pain
"Now we must run for our lives, my feathered princess
We must run like the wind
Away from your people and the encroachment of mine."

                                 I

And I, with my heart, acknowledged him
And all he said and did not say
For my father's fathers would not think sacred
The emerald grass on which we lay
Or that strange fire within our breasts.

                              I

His pale hand in my brown, we flew
Across the water and up towards the sky
Through waterfalls and ancient trails
Clinging to new love as old as time
It mattered not how futile seemed the flight.

            He

We flew through clusters of new-borne stars 
Into the eye of the dying sun
Melted down into the core of earth itself
And became a part of the living land
A new tribe, birthed, born out of time.

              I

For just as we, with feet of fire
Found our freedom, our paradise
Beyond the realm of tribe and troop,
The arrows of my father flew
The bullets of your companions sang.


             We

And into arms of soft, soft dream
We fell as one, with lover's cries
Our mouths went seeking,
Our hearts poured out,
Our eyes, not knowing how to say goodbye.

              We

Me, of the earth and of the sky
You, of the sea and distant shore
We lay in arms that felt like home
In a strange, new world
With our hearts knowing like silenced drums,
 We did not belong.




a collab across the miles

©by Voo and Rusky
finished May 16, 2010
3:23 p.m.



RUSSELL/RUSKY

and

 VOO



The Dream by John Trudell


Body Surfing on Ocean Beach




                            

Ocean Sounds                          



Body Surfing on Ocean Beach




Look! A falling star, I said
And as you turned, my lips caught you
In the hollow of your throat
It was midnight and the sand was warm
The sky was clear, the wine was cold
And you were the sweetest dream
I'd ever had.

Listen to the waves, I said
And as you listened, I heard my heart
Thunder louder than the highest tide
The ocean behind you in the moonlight glowed
And you smiled at me
Sparkling like a diamond
In my lonely eyes.

The beach was ours
The world was ours, so it appeared
And hand in hand, we walked
Till midnight died and left a hint of dawn
And we laughed and laughed till the puncture wounds
In both our hearts were mended
And we walked on.

Look! A falling star, you said
And as I looked, your lips caught me
On the mouth, my hungry mouth
And devoured me with your wanting
Hypnotic, lulling waves caressed our bodies
And we loved each other
As the tides swept out and back
Till break of day.





©by Voo
July 29, 07
2 a.m.

                                                     

Darkness on The Face of the Deep












Darkness On the Face of the Deep


The earth was without form and void
On the day of the long destruction
No tree stood, no bird sang, no flower bloomed
When all the world fell silent in the wake of the death of life.

Where walked the man who had not been made?
The woman at his side, a softer version of himself?
Where ran the babies with their tender smiles and happy calls
Who had not then known the rage that leads to blood?

They were yet in their Father's eyes
In His mind, still innocent and loyal
Still children unborn and unnamed
In a garden that had not been tilled.

The earth, a crumbled, chaotic heap
Dying, in the past of a thousand dreams
War had come and war had gone
And war'd been declared until the end of time.

What did they know that we don't know,
The fallen rulers of the ancient world?
And what do we know that they didn't know,
We, the people of the end of it all?

(If Atlantis was an island
Was that island then, the Earth
Doomed by it's own reflection
And the glory of it's own device?)

For what has been, is being still
And what will be, has been before
There is nothing new, nor ever shall be
Until that day that dawns in cleansing fire.

Man is not the originator of seduction
Neither is he the architect of towers
He is the student, and willing, true,
But following only the counterfeiter's drafts.

How different was that world from this
The First World with it's ancient skies
Only relics now, and bones
Left behind to be untombed and sorted.

We wonder what the Watchers watched
Banished from their place of origin
No longer there in the City of Light
But under the rule of a heart full of dark despair.

And still he rules, though hampered now,
Waiting for the world to pledge allegiance
Waiting for the sun to plunge
And all the world go dark again.

He did not know what he had then
When he sat a king, on earthly throne
It was not enough for his desperate soul
He, who shined as brightly as a star.

What is it in the mind of men
That makes them crave the night?
It is he, the one who covered
It is he, the one who fell.

Like lightning through the sky to earth
Defiance, screaming, rebellion, taunting
Down onto that newly made thing of dirt
The new born world, untouched, unsullied.

And pride un-made it
And hate un-did it
And bitterness clouded,
And death found it's hold.

(Three times, the world must be born
Three times washed in the water of war
Three times destroyed and three times remade
Three times and at last, Death itself will then die.)

And where stands the ruler of that ancient age?
He, who finds no crown too big to covet?
He, who fell in love with his own face?
He, who crushed his gift in scornful hands?

Look within the hearts of men
Is he not there?
In the souls of kings and princes
With corruption in their eyes.

In the bullets and the guns and knives
Clutched in hands that know no love
Is he not there with growling voice
Saying, Come on, do the deed!

In the songs and in the pictures
In the papers printing lies
In the drugs and in the hunger
In the palaces bought with blood?

In the politicians's promises
In the Utopian's sweet dream
In the order birthed from chaos
His old lies are sold as truth.

Is he not there?
Is he not here, in sleeping men
On couches, deceived in darkened rooms
With our lives projected on a screen?

He still stands a conqueror
Still destroying an earth holding onto life
But we are his comrades now 
And his armies, they march at our sides.

He does not know, or perhaps he does
His time is short, his kingdom, crumbling
His future written on the page of a book
Written in history with ink of  pure blood.

He rules, the second time on a new made world
Angels first, now men, his stumbling slaves
But this time all of earth and all of heaven     
 Will shake their heads when the Cherub falls again.




©by Voo
May 29, 2010
11:50 p.m.