Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

There is no still point in all the Universe, and that is the rock upon which I stand

Monday, September 07, 2009

When the Curtain Comes Down

mother was a visitor
from just another place
daddy was a darkened stone
you could see it in his face

the sisters were all twisters
across the plains they roamed
brothers were incalculable
math did not work at home

we drove in from a theater
for the manically depraved
built ourselves america
it was all the rage
the lights went up to heaven
just as it ran away
and so we bribed the orchestra
to play it all our way
we sat upon the hardest rock
next to prometheus unbound
we know the show is over
when the curtain comes down
when the curtain comes down

lots of cracks in lots of tracts
sidewalks made of bones
walls that blocked the memories
of when the light had shone
a miracle of pretense
that gave us all a home
that's what they called it

what was all that anger
the question must be begged
children of lost dynamics
like so many broken eggs
put you in the frying pan
and add a little salt
oh, to be a scavenger
when no one is at fault
makes me wonder

i'm sitting in the parking lot
the cars are all on fire
the whiskey in the garage
turning truth into a liar
help me, cried the carpenter
these nails are made of clay
i cannot hammer paradise
out of my yesterdays
no way and no how

just what is wrong with singing
when you're singing to the choir
we will cut up the messiah
and eat our heart's desire
we will open up a temple
and sell god by the pound
be sure to visit the lobby
when the curtain comes down
when the curtain comes down

spirit and flesh in fast embrace
tried to join the human race
tried to cross the valley
and discover what is grace
one dresses up in tears
the other dons a white dress
made whiter by the years
and the marks of its distress
one is made the villain
cause you need one is my guess
but i like to think they are
united in tenderness
and sorrow
all you can borrow

what is all this testing
when will restlessness abate
when will we all stop looking for
a master of our fate
was it hidden in the garden
was it locked behind a gate
did daddy hire monsters
i think that daddy was too late
to stop us

happiness is such an armful
but when you set it down
it takes off for the country
for its turn to wear the crown
kings and queens renewing
to an audience of clowns
the lights go up in heaven
when the curtain comes down
when the curtain comes down

mothers and fathers
sisters and brothers
and all you lovers
listen to the sound
when the curtain comes down
when the curtain comes down

we drove in from a theater
for the manically depraved
built ourselves america
it was all the rage
the lights went up to heaven
just as it ran away
and so we bribed the orchestra
to play it all our way
we sat upon the hardest rock
next to prometheus unbound
we know the show is over
when the curtain comes down

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1 Comments:

At 7:56 PM, Blogger C. Stirling Bartholomew said...

Hey, a poet.

You ever read

Autobiography by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

I am leading a quiet life
in Mike’s Place every day
watching the champs
of the Dante Billiard Parlor
and the French pinball addicts.
I am leading a quiet life
on lower East Broadway.
I am an American.
I was an American boy.
I read the American Boy Magazine
and became a boy scout
in the suburbs.
I thought I was Tom Sawyer
catching crayfish in the Bronx River
and imagining the Mississippi.
I had a baseball mit
and an American Flyer bike.

... and so on ...

 

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