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woodstock diary '73-'76


Spring Medley

Air clear as a free-running stream
tumbling over country rocks and minty greenery
Clear soft air of early spring
Breathing satsang, reeling eternity,
While running 'cross the straight-lined highway
-- shouting
"Hey sky, embrace me!" shouting
I embrace the air and call it Love.

I love you, love you, love you, love you
I
Form, Words, Action
I in motion
I in tumbling, stumbling, crazy image
kaleidoscope
over 'n' over
love you, love you, love you, love you
Capture the essence for an almost noninstant
Capture the image of groping, grabbing, grasping
gazing heartfelt on release, but
love you, love you, love you, love you
insane, insatiable
cannot touch release of
love you, love you, love you, love you
Smothering in the too pure air.

Hey, Springtime,
Got some time to be wasting
So I tracked a songbird
on a still bare treebranch
and joined it in song.
What wonder the woods bring
I can't contain it.
Thistle and briar weeds
Capture my imagination
Grow wild and tangly
All through my mind.



Easter

Gentle rosy raindrops of a mellow morning,
Children make the day -- it's spring.
I thought of God in Church this morning,
nailed to His cross in long ago Jerusalem,
arising to springtime, the earth's reawakening.
It's a time for children and games of childhood,
a time for playing with love,
secret smiles and daisy chains.
It's a time for the simple and natural
A time for anointing the soul in peace
after the ravages of winter.
A time for gentle things
like newborn kittens
and flowerbuds after the rain.
I am slowly relearning the healing strength of love,
Slowly relearning the simple pleasures of humanity.
Life is sweet, poignant,
a drifting melody.


           daydream

It was a warm and windy day,
bittersweet in springtime,
the trees, newly leaved,
swayed in the warm, sweet melody.
It was a day to kick stones
along a riverbank and dream,
before a night of jukebox music and cokes
at the local diner.
What kind of day are you?



Caress the Moment

 Caress the moment
 Let it rain and whisper gentle melodies,
 lusciously over your skin
  and tingling nerve ends.
 Lap happily of the sweet, sweet honey
  that this time drips
  freely onto your tongue.
 Be aware of the hopeful breezes
  and busy butterflies
  of sane emotion
  fluttering around and about.
 Caress the moment as it caresses you
 And care enough to share it
 And help it grow into forever.





  Somewhere
  in summer
  days are catching up to us
  All those silent moments
  When we would shout out our being
   but
   better not.



 Hurrah the Saturnalia!

Hurrah the Saturnalia!
Bacchus reigns on high
And all the world's a feast of fun
So pass the pipe and pour the rum
And flash a smile o'er everyone
 A twinkle of the eye.

 Hail the merry Season!
A boost for love & joy
When packages that yell "surprise!"
May dance before our merry eyes
from "Santa Claus" that merry, wise
 & venerable old boy.

 Joy to all ye revelers!
It's time to join in play
where roles are dropped and laughter raised
We're all buffoons, so clowns be praised
It's time to shout out loud, ablaze
 "Joy to all today!"

A very merry holiday
 to each and all I say!


Memories

 Memories, they weave a silken web in silence
 We talk of times past in gently measured tones,
  sometimes bitter humor.
 We watch a bird circling in the distance,
  and build patterns in the clouds.
 Last year I spied a mole burrowing in
  the unmelted snow of early spring.
 Today I tend to think of you
  smiling as you did last night
 when you first saw me after parting.



Reflections

Walking long mornings into sunrise
You stood by and took the earth into your arms
 like grainstalks
I called you my Degas print.
You spoke of the moon.
21 days and nights we tarried.
Almost single, almost married.
I loved you.
You spoke to me in words of magic.
Will you speak to me again?
Hollywood houses and Paris cafes bowed to us.
You said you needed work and companions.
I cursed you in my mind, and went off
 seeking other follies.
The days look longer now, feel somehow strange.
Love is like a looking glass, reflecting change.



For Michael

 You were a mystery to me.
 A sensual stranger in the night
 Who brought me ecstasy and fantasy.
 What we shared wasn't love --
 but an adventure -- and the love of adventure
  draws you near me in certain dreams.
 And you are still a mystery, a symbol in my life
  for certain exquisite longings.
 The time we were together was a magic time.
 I'm looking for that magic again.
 I am looking for another magical romance,
  as I remember you and smile
  without wondering where you are.




For Steve

 Dreaming, I sit here,
 Wondering, remembering your past
 As you've told it to me in hours of easy yarning.
 You look so young, asleep and dreaming
  beyond my touch.
 Do you know that I think about you,
 Watch for hours, wait for your step at the door?
 Do you know that thoughts of you,
 silent dreams and yearnings,
 Are easily taking over my mind?
 You said that men are romantic,
 And women are strong and practical.
 I don't feel practical or strong,
 Just dreamy, and slowly
 Obsessed.



Patty We Hardly Knew Ya

So they took you from your lover's home -- Steven
who treated you like a child & later wrote memoirs & told them to take anything, but to leave him alone
& they took you.
& they locked you in a closet & used you for a media campaign to feed the hungry.
You had never known hunger or privation.
You were a princess of the ruling class.
But you had known loneliness.
You learned, finally,
away from your university walls, about revolution.
They called you Tania & plastered your picture on front page reports & post office billboards &
the Six O'clock News.
Your father wasn't the only Hearst
who could make the papers.
You became a phenomenon. You became a star.
And the question on everyone's lips was:
"Where is Patty Hearst?"
& some were arrested & some were destroyed & the LA siege was just one of many brutal episodes in a bloody war movie, but you were a star.
& all the "little people" -- the housewives & the students & the laborers of the working class took you as their own & discussed your motives & some applauded you & some said you deserved to be spanked & some said you were just a pawn, but pawn or queen, you were a star -- a media heroine & no one could ignore you as they had
ignored your wealthy and powerful family.
Month after month you led the headlines.
The FBI was embarrassed
by false leads on your whereabouts.
All those trained bloodhounds searching for one
little girl playing revolutionary.
It could have been made in Hollywood,
But never in CUBA or CHINA or Viet-Nam.
You were so bold, standing in your beret & rifle
in front of the SLA trademark
(and we still may wonder on the significance of
"Symbionese")
Robbing banks in the tradition of Dunaway and Beatty
-- a whirlwind crime spree
to the glory of the "people."
What did you know of the "people?"
Those who cheered for the circus & those who condemned you at their mid-morning coffee breaks.
Yes, now you belonged to them --
no longer the sheltered heiress.
So they found you, the pigs, really quite by accident (the whole investigation being a gaily colored comedy of
errors)
& brought you to "justice."
& Justice took its time-honored time drawing out the headlines -- arraignment through appeals & exposes
("New Times features Bill & Emily Harris:
at home with the fugitives")
And when they asked you for your profession on the
official forms you ingenuously proclaimed to be
"an unemployed Urban Guerrilla," which is certainly as valid as an unemployed newspaper heiress.
And Squeaky Fromm tried to shoot the President,
but you were still America's sweetheart --
poor little rich girl gone guerrilla.
But then you were reprogrammed and reneged on your revolutionary ways. You cried for joy on being reunited with your "capitalist pig" parents &
the family dog --
Just like any Long Island JAP or Sacramento
newspaper heiress back from her hippie jaunt.
And they locked you in your "country club jail"
like they send a naughty child to her room --
"just to teach her a lesson."
And still the interviewers came
to continue the media comedy.
What fun you had with your "Pardon Me" teeshirt & your jailhouse romance with your guard.
(And Jerry Ford, who Squeaky tried to shoot, had
pardoned Trickie Dick. And Susan Ford, the First Daughter, married her Secret Service guard.
And it was the era of Post-Watergate when nothing could be too absurd for a world weary public worn out by the Stagflation Wars)
And Waffling Jimmy Earl of the Georgia Peanut Dynasty was in the Whitehouse.
And China was finally invading Viet-Nam
And a fast-talking Orkian
was the rage of prime time.
And discomania mixed liberally with coke and 'ludes had taken over Amerikkka's youthful zeal.
And Werner Erhard replaced Che Guevara in ex-Yippie Jerry Rubin's heart & so the wheel turns.
& five years after the kidnapping,
Patty Hearst finally went home.



Rainbow Shop

And she sold me rainbows
 dancing gaily 'cross the window
  windchimes in light.
And she smiled me daisies
 and bursting bright blooms of summer.
And she told me, maybe,
 if you're looking in
 the right direction,
  a miracle may grace your sight.
And I smiled
 dancing
  into the day.



Diamonds and Rust

"Diamonds and Rust" like Joanie says
memories, I mean
lovers.
I saw you tonight with your San Francisco cut
and that old double-edged blade
went piercing through my heart
leaving me bleeding
memories
long through this autumn night
of no-sleep blues and golds
and rusty burnished reds
that cut like diamonds.

I call to you in fevered dreams
that leave me gasping,
haunting all through the dreary day.
Can't escape that sudden urgency.
Just like days gone by. You don't answer.
You don't hear me through all that mass
-- your own driving imperative.
We meet so seldom
separation so long.
We are like strangers.
Yet times we have touched, one to one,
to perfection,
have been one strength and impulse
have known such intimacy . . .
I call to you now,
Hearing your voice in every song of romance.



(dedicated to Danny McDermott, wherever
       he may wander)

He calls on the strength of the ocean,
Fire burning in his heart
calls on the spirit world to succor
He who hath known tribulation, but not succumbed
Made stronger and wiser knows power and wisdom
Flow through the elements always there to call on
For the pure though fiery of heart
The saddened but strengthened of soul
The man who would flow with the forces of nature
In touch with the all.



Gathered on picnic table benches behind the home,
hot in sunshine. Karen explains, fact by fact, how Gus
became her inseparable soul. They beam together.
He gives consoling hand to shoulder as she grieves
children left with their father, her ex’s condemnation,
stern paternal assertion of power. Saving his kin from
this unrepentant whore. Karen cries, again – unrehearsed
habit. She carries sadness; leaks occur.
Gus hardly speaks. His troubled eyes, weary stance,
gentle pull and pass of their pint bottle as he glances with
deep countenance to each face around is eloquent conversation.
Sweat smells, condensed alcohol, burnt tobacco, drying !@#$ from
local dogs, passing fumes from the road out front, all permeate,
help set the mood.
They treat the stranger in their midst as a friend of long
acquaintance, just another straggly member of a morphing crew.
“Ain’t we all strangers of long acquaintance – everybody a
wrapping of layers, appearing in colored bits along our drowsy
companionship. Strange friends, welcome distractions, smoky
mirrors that let us see as we discern.”
Bonnie and Denise giggle at Big Dan’s pedantic speech.
They solicit contributions for their liquor store expedition.
Enough gets thrown in to make it a go.
Go, girls. We’ll be waiting, celebrating what we can because
here we are.
May/5/2021, 5:49 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 
libramoon Profile
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Re: woodstock diary '73-'76


*)*

A Vignette
*)*
*)*
It was a simple house in a simple town.
The road was long and winding.
Two men sat on the road.
They were playing cards.
One man had a bottle which was occasionally passed.
They were not playing for any stakes,
But as an excuse for companionship.
It was a simple house in a simple town.
Old gnarled, stately tall trees formed a woods
that lined the roadway.
It was noon, but the day was overcast;
not dark, but pleasantly muted.
It was autumn.
The trees were proud of their majestic leaves
of gold and magenta which covered their branches
and sprinkled the earth.
Small furry creatures occasionally could be seen
amidst the trees, leaves and earth.
The two men were aware of all this in the
backgrounds of their minds.
They were also aware of the pleasantness
of their peaceful companionship
as they played cards, passed the bottle
and made casual conversation about this and that.
It was a simple house in a simple town
by the side of a long and windy road
which was surrounded by woods.
A plane passed overhead
and was briefly a part of this scene,
before moving on to more important places.
*)*
*)*
*)*

Spring Medley
*)*
*)*
Air clear as a free-running stream
tumbling over country rocks and minty greenery
Clear soft air of early spring
Breathing satsang, reeling eternity,
While running 'cross the straight-lined highway
-- shouting
"Hey sky, embrace me!" shouting
I embrace the air and call it Love.
*)*
I love you, love you, love you, love you
I
Form, Words, Action
I in motion
I in tumbling, stumbling, crazy image
kaleidoscope
over 'n' over
love you, love you, love you, love you
Capture the essence for an almost noninstant
Capture the image of groping, grabbing, grasping
gazing heartfelt on release, but
love you, love you, love you, love you
insane, insatiable
cannot touch release of
love you, love you, love you, love you
Smothering in the too pure air.
*)*
Hey, Springtime,
Got some time to be wasting
So I tracked a songbird
on a still bare treebranch
and joined it in song.
What wonder the woods bring
I can't contain it.
Thistle and briar weeds
Capture my imagination
Grow wild and tangly
All through my mind.
*)*
*)*
*)*

Easter
*)*
*)*
Gentle rosy raindrops of a mellow morning,
Children make the day -- it's spring.
I thought of God in Church this morning,
nailed to His cross in long ago Jerusalem,
arising to springtime, the earth's reawakening.
It's a time for children and games of childhood,
a time for playing with love,
secret smiles and daisy chains.
It's a time for the simple and natural
A time for anointing the soul in peace
after the ravages of winter.
A time for gentle things
like newborn kittens
and flowerbuds after the rain.
I am slowly relearning the healing strength of love,
Slowly relearning the simple pleasures of humanity.
Life is sweet, poignant,
a drifting melody.
*)*
*)*
*)*
           daydream
*)*
*)*
It was a warm and windy day,
bittersweet in springtime,
the trees, newly leaved,
swayed in the warm, sweet melody.
It was a day to kick stones
along a riverbank and dream,
before a night of jukebox music and cokes
at the local diner.
What kind of day are you?
*)*
*)*
*)*
Caress the Moment
*)*
*)*
Caress the moment
Let it rain and whisper gentle melodies,
lusciously over your skin
  and tingling nerve ends.
Lap happily of the sweet, sweet honey
  that this time drips
  freely onto your tongue.
Be aware of the hopeful breezes
  and busy butterflies
  of sane emotion
  fluttering around and about.
Caress the moment as it caresses you
And care enough to share it
And help it grow into forever.
*)*
*)*
*)*


  Somewhere
  in summer
  days are catching up to us
  All those silent moments
  When we would shout out our being
   but
   better not.

*)*
*)*
*)*

Hurrah the Saturnalia!
*)*
*)*
Hurrah the Saturnalia!
Bacchus reigns on high
And all the world's a feast of fun
So pass the pipe and pour the rum
And flash a smile o'er everyone
A twinkle of the eye.
*)*
Hail the merry Season!
A boost for love & joy
When packages that yell "surprise!"
May dance before our merry eyes
from "Santa Claus" that merry, wise
& venerable old boy.
*)*
Joy to all ye revelers!
It's time to join in play
where roles are dropped and laughter raised
We're all buffoons, so clowns be praised
It's time to shout out loud, ablaze
"Joy to all today!"
*)*
A very merry holiday
to each and all I say!
*)*
*)*
*)*

Memories
*)*
*)*
Memories, they weave a silken web in silence
We talk of times past in gently measured tones,
  sometimes bitter humor.
We watch a bird circling in the distance,
  and build patterns in the clouds.
Last year I spied a mole burrowing in
  the unmelted snow of early spring.
Today I tend to think of you
  smiling as you did last night
when you first saw me after parting.
*)*
*)*
*)*
Reflections
*)*
*)*
Walking long mornings into sunrise
You stood by and took the earth into your arms
like grainstalks
I called you my Degas print.
You spoke of the moon.
21 days and nights we tarried.
Almost single, almost married.
I loved you.
You spoke to me in words of magic.
Will you speak to me again?
Hollywood houses and Paris cafes bowed to us.
You said you needed work and companions.
I cursed you in my mind, and went off
seeking other follies.
The days look longer now, feel somehow strange.
Love is like a looking glass, reflecting change.
*)*
*)*
*)*

For Michael
*)*
*)*
You were a mystery to me.
A sensual stranger in the night
Who brought me ecstasy and fantasy.
What we shared wasn't love --
but an adventure -- and the love of adventure
  draws you near me in certain dreams.
And you are still a mystery, a symbol in my life
  for certain exquisite longings.
The time we were together was a magic time.
I'm looking for that magic again.
I am looking for another magical romance,
  as I remember you and smile
  without wondering where you are.
*)*
*)*
*)*



For Steve
*)*
*)*
Dreaming, I sit here,
Wondering, remembering your past
As you've told it to me in hours of easy yarning.
You look so young, asleep and dreaming
  beyond my touch.
Do you know that I think about you,
Watch for hours, wait for your step at the door?
Do you know that thoughts of you,
silent dreams and yearnings,
Are easily taking over my mind?
You said that men are romantic,
And women are strong and practical.
I don't feel practical or strong,
Just dreamy, and slowly
Obsessed.
*)*
*)*
*)*


Rainbow Shop
*)*
*)*
And she sold me rainbows
dancing gaily 'cross the window
  windchimes in light.
And she smiled me daisies
and bursting bright blooms of summer.
And she told me, maybe,
if you're looking in
the right direction,
  a miracle may grace your sight.
And I smiled
dancing
  into the day.
*)*
*)*
*)*

Diamonds and Rust
*)*
*)*
"Diamonds and Rust" like Joanie says
memories, I mean
lovers.
I saw you tonight with your San Francisco cut
and that old double-edged blade
went piercing through my heart
leaving me bleeding
memories
long through this autumn night
of no-sleep blues and golds
and rusty burnished reds
that cut like diamonds.
*)*
I call to you in fevered dreams
that leave me gasping,
haunting all through the dreary day.
Can't escape that sudden urgency.
Just like days gone by. You don't answer.
You don't hear me through all that mass
-- your own driving imperative.
We meet so seldom
separation so long.
We are like strangers.
Yet times we have touched, one to one,
to perfection,
have been one strength and impulse
have known such intimacy . . .
I call to you now,
Hearing your voice in every song of romance.
*)*
*)*
*)*

(dedicated to Danny McDermott, wherever
       he may wander)
*)*
*)*
He calls on the strength of the ocean,
Fire burning in his heart
calls on the spirit world to succor
He who hath known tribulation, but not succumbed
Made stronger and wiser knows power and wisdom
Flow through the elements always there to call on
For the pure though fiery of heart
The saddened but strengthened of soul
The man who would flow with the forces of nature
In touch with the all.
*)*
*)*
*)*
Gathered on picnic table benches behind the home,
hot in sunshine. Karen explains, fact by fact, how Gus
became her inseparable soul. They beam together.
He gives consoling hand to shoulder as she grieves
children left with their father, her ex’s condemnation,
stern paternal assertion of power. Saving his kin from
this unrepentant whore. Karen cries, again – unrehearsed
habit. She carries sadness; leaks occur.
Gus hardly speaks. His troubled eyes, weary stance,
gentle pull and pass of their pint bottle as he glances with
deep countenance to each face around is eloquent conversation.
Sweat smells, condensed alcohol, burnt tobacco, drying !@#$ from
local dogs, passing fumes from the road out front, all permeate,
help set the mood.
*)*
They treat the stranger in their midst as a friend of long
acquaintance, just another straggly member of a morphing crew.
“Ain’t we all strangers of long acquaintance – everybody a
wrapping of layers, appearing in colored bits along our drowsy
companionship. Strange friends, welcome distractions, smoky
mirrors that let us see as we discern.”
Bonnie and Denise giggle at Big Dan’s pedantic speech.
They solicit contributions for their liquor store expedition.
Enough gets thrown in to make it a go.
Go, girls. We’ll be waiting, celebrating what we can because
here we are.
*)*
*)*
*)*


Patty We Hardly Knew Ya
*)*
*)*
So they took you from your lover's home -- Steven
who treated you like a child & later wrote memoirs & told them to take
anything, but to leave him alone
& they took you.
& they locked you in a closet & used you for a media campaign to feed the
hungry.
You had never known hunger or privation.
You were a princess of the ruling class.
But you had known loneliness.
You learned, finally,
away from your university walls, about revolution.
They called you Tania & plastered your picture on front page reports & post
office billboards &
the Six O'clock News.
Your father wasn't the only Hearst
who could make the papers.
You became a phenomenon. You became a star.
And the question on everyone's lips was:
"Where is Patty Hearst?"
& some were arrested & some were destroyed & the LA siege was just one of
many brutal episodes in a bloody war movie, but you were a star.
& all the "little people" -- the housewives & the students & the laborers of
the working class took you as their own & discussed your motives & some
applauded you & some said you deserved to be spanked & some said you were
just a pawn, but pawn or queen, you were a star -- a media heroine & no one
could ignore you as they had
ignored your wealthy and powerful family.
Month after month you led the headlines.
The FBI was embarrassed
by false leads on your whereabouts.
All those trained bloodhounds searching for one
little girl playing revolutionary.
It could have been made in Hollywood,
But never in CUBA or CHINA or Viet-Nam.
You were so bold, standing in your beret & rifle
in front of the SLA trademark
(and we still may wonder on the significance of
"Symbionese")
Robbing banks in the tradition of Dunaway and Beatty
-- a whirlwind crime spree
to the glory of the "people."
What did you know of the "people?"
Those who cheered for the circus & those who condemned you at their
mid-morning coffee breaks.
Yes, now you belonged to them --
no longer the sheltered heiress.
So they found you, the pigs, really quite by accident (the whole
investigation being a gaily colored comedy of
errors)
& brought you to "justice."
& Justice took its time-honored time drawing out the headlines --
arraignment through appeals & exposes
("New Times features Bill & Emily Harris:
at home with the fugitives")
And when they asked you for your profession on the
official forms you ingenuously proclaimed to be
"an unemployed Urban Guerrilla," which is certainly as valid as an
unemployed newspaper heiress.
And Squeaky Fromm tried to shoot the President,
but you were still America's sweetheart --
poor little rich girl gone guerrilla.
But then you were reprogrammed and reneged on your revolutionary ways. You
cried for joy on being reunited with your "capitalist pig" parents &
the family dog --
Just like any Long Island JAP or Sacramento
newspaper heiress back from her hippie jaunt.
And they locked you in your "country club jail"
like they send a naughty child to her room --
"just to teach her a lesson."
And still the interviewers came
to continue the media comedy.
What fun you had with your "Pardon Me" teeshirt & your jailhouse romance
with your guard.
(And Jerry Ford, who Squeaky tried to shoot, had
pardoned Trickie Dick. And Susan Ford, the First Daughter, married her
Secret Service guard.
And it was the era of Post-Watergate when nothing could be too absurd for a
world weary public worn out by the Stagflation Wars)
And Waffling Jimmy Earl of the Georgia Peanut Dynasty was in the Whitehouse.
And China was finally invading Viet-Nam
And a fast-talking Orkian
was the rage of prime time.
And discomania mixed liberally with coke and 'ludes had taken over
Amerikkka's youthful zeal.
And Werner Erhard replaced Che Guevara in ex-Yippie Jerry Rubin's heart & so
the wheel turns.
& five years after the kidnapping,
Patty Hearst finally went home.

...
May/5/2021, 7:06 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog
 


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