SALVADOR DALI “I’m a joker, I’m a smoker I’m a midnight toker”-Steve Miller INQ Wel, helo Dali (pronounced ‘dolly’) DALI Dali! But call me Salvador. INQ Hello, Salvador. Thank you for coming. DALI Call me a taxi. INQ I wont’ fal for that one, Mr. Dali. DALI Your wig is bleeding. INQ Mr. Dali, some people consider your works blasphemous. DALI Some people consider these hearings hippopotamus. INQ Hippopotamus? DALI No, gracias. A hot pastrami. And don’t forget the pickle! INQ Answer the question — or you’ll find yourself in a pickle! DALI Piccolo mini picolomini piccolo mini pico Lominipiccolo… INQ (HITS GAVEL AND CONTINUES HITTING GAVEL) Blasphemous — pernicious. DALI Rhinoceros – preposterous. INQ Don’t waste our time, Mr. Dali. DALI Time doesn’t exist, Inquisitor. Don’t waste my space. INQ Are your works blasphemous, Mr. Dali? DALI No! A thousand times no! But cathedral bells are. Ringing bells si irritating, like hemorrhoids – or the way you hit that gavel. INQ A reminder of what, Salvador? DALI That the clock is an invention to keep us out of heaven. INQ He’s batty. Lock him in the belfry and let him hear the bells chime for eternity.
********** DADA DADDY
THERE ONCE WAS A MERRY, MERRY MERRY, MERRY MERRY , MERRY PRANKSTER WHO SAW TIME, TIME,TIME, TIME, TIME AS A MARAUDING GANGSTER MELTING & BENDING WIDE EYED & INVENTIVE DEFYING IT WAS A JOYOUS INCENTIVE
CHORUS:
I”M SALVADOR DALI DADA DADDY SURREAL DANDY HE’S SALVADOR DALI DADA DADDY. SURREAL DANDY
NOW HIS MUSTACHIOED CORPSE RIDES A HORSE, OF COURSE JUMPING INTO A CLOCK AT A QUARTER TO ELEVEN REMATERIALIZING EARLIER AT HALF PAST SEVEN HOLDING ONTO HIS HAT & A SMOKING CANNONBALL VELVET THREADS & BARON MUNCHAUSEN’S JOYOUS ROAR
LAUREL AND HARDY SAT ON A CLOCK STIR FRYING ONIONS BAGELS AND LOX WHEN UP PULLED A TORSO HUNGRY? EVEN MORE SO CURSING IN SIGN WHAT LUCK! WHAT A WASTE! BOLLOCKS! WHERE IS IT WHEN YOU NEED IT? WHERE THE HELL IS MY FACE?
VENUS DI MILO SAT ON AN ANGEL SIDESADDLE ON THE SHELL OF A SNAIL WHEN NAPOLEON SPIED HER PULLED HIS RHINO BESIDE HER AND ASKED HER TO SIT ON HIS FACE NOW VENUS WAS A TAURUS WITH A CHEST FULL OF DRAWERS AND GAME TO BE EATEN FOR LUNCH SO HE STUCK IN HIS TONGUE AND HE SLURPED OUT HER LUNGS AND SAID — “OH, WHAT A GOOD BOY… OH, WHAT A GOOD BOY AM I” ****** from tightrope see webpage and youtube Tightrope 2 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wUpXqoe5HnI 31:54
« I’m dancing barefoot, heading for a spin, some strange music drags me in, makes me come on like some heroine »–patti smith
INQ Miss Duncan, you are on trial for idealism. DUNCAN Are you part of the dream police? INQ No, I represent modern commercial interests. DUNCAN I don’t think there is a difference. INQ How do you plead? DUNCAN When all of the arts are again reunited — and only then – wiill theater truly live again in its true expression. The first actor was a dancer. We must return to the Greek tragedies to be reborn.. INQ Miss Duncan, this is the 20th century, in a land called America. We no longer believe in tragedy. We believe in technology. DUNCAN (duncan dances & mimes) INQ Oh you want to play a game…… Ooh, ooh.sounds like, two words. Wait, wait. Ahhhhh.I’ve got it. You want to do the same thing for poetry that Walt Whitman did for poetry AHHH, you think they lack soul. Miss Duncan, I appreciate your enthusiasm, your compassion , but I must tell you – I don’t think America is interested. The last thing anyone in America wants to hear is that they lack soul. Even more so, they don’t want to be reminded. And they will turn on you at the drop of a penny for the slightest reminder Yes, you want to enrich their lives. But they want to fatten their wallets. And you think you will find a rich American millionaire, to help create your school based on the Greek ideals, perhaps in this audience? I am afraid not. A prophet is not recognized at home, Isadora Duncan. How could they possibly recognize a Goddess? CLERK Isadora Duncan, telegram. DUNCAN THE RUSSIAN GOVERNMENT ALONE CAN UNDERSTAND YOU — STOP – – COME TO US – STOP. WE WILL MAKE YOUR SCHOOL. INQ If you accept this offer, you’ll never dance again in America. You’ll be called a traitor and a Communist. You’ll take your chances. Well you always have. Good luck, Isadora., you’ll need it. (BLACK OUT AND RETURN) INQ Back so soon, Miss Duncan? DUNCAN They promised me a school. They gave me a cold water flat in the Russian winter. INQ Here we promise you nothing. But we hold out the hope ……… that anything , anything , can happen in show business. DUNCAN That is not exactly comforting dear. INQ Ohhh, Isadora. It is not unusual for a revolution to be betrayed. Yes, I’ve heard the stories ID Artists standing in line to kill themselves. Even my husband, INQ But how could they have been so naive as to throw themselves away like that for a revolution? Warm promises and cold reality. ID And then my two children were killed in a car accident on the Seine. INQ I’m truly sorry, Isadora. You are living the return of Greek tragedy. You need some illusions to continue living. Isadora, return to Europe. Find a place in the sun – southern France perhaps. There are many great painters living there. (ISADORA RISES — DISTRAUGHT — AND STUMBLES) INQ Good luck, Isadora. And WATCH OUT for that scarf. ******* RETURN OF THE GODDESS
Isadora Duncan:
I SEE THE RETURN OF THE PERFECTLY NATURAL NAKED BODY IT WILL BE A GLORIOUS EXPRESSION OF BODY & SPIRITUAL BEING ONCE AGAIN IN HARMONY
CHORUS:
HOW DARE YOU STEAL YOUR POWER BACK? HOW DARE YOU DANCE BAREFOOT? HOW DARE YOU DANCE IN PAGAN DRESS? BARE BENEATH REVEALING TUNIC?
ID:
A LONG LOST DANCE THE BODY EMERGING AGAIN FROM CIVILIZED FORGETFULNESS HER TWO HANDS OUTSTRETCHED HER FINE HEAD TOSSED TO THE SKY HER FOREHEAD SHINING WITH A CROWN OF A MILLION STARS
CHORUS:
HOW DARE YOU DREAM THE FORGOTTEN DREAM? HOW DARE YOU VOICE THESE LONG LOST THOUGHTS HOW DARE YOU BARE YOUR NAKED SOUL? MUCH LESS YOUR NAKED BODY?
ID: DANCE IS THE MOVEMENTS OF THE HUMAN BODY IN HARMONY WITH THE MOVEMENTS OF THE EARTH ALL FREE NATURAL MOVEMENTS CONFORM TO THE LAWS OF WAVE MOVEMENT
IT IS THE ALTERNATED ATTRACTION & RESISTANCE OF THE LAWS OF GRAVITY THAT CAUSES THIS MOVEMENT FROM THE SOLAR PLEXUS, THE TEMPORAL HOME OF THE SOUL THE BODY CONVERTS INTO A LUMINOUS FLUIDITY SURRENDERING TO THE INSPIRATION OF THE SOUL THE HUMAN SOUL-LIGHTER THAN X-RAYS
CHORUS: HOW DARE YOU REMEMBER PARADISE? HOW DARE YOU ENVISION ETERNAL LIFE? HOW DARE YOU STARE INTO GOD’S FACE AND SEE AN EYE FOR AN EYE & A TOOTH FOR A TOOTH
ID: OH WOMAN. WHAT IS THE GOOD OF US LEARNING TO BECOME LAWYERS & PAINTERS WHEN THIS MIRACLE WITHIN EXISTS? LIFE, LIFE, LIFE, GIVE ME LIFE
THE SEA WAS BLUE,THE SUN WAS BURNING ALL OF NATURE WAS BURSTING INTO BLOOM THE DAY MY SON WAS BORN WHAT DID I CARE FOR ART? I FELT I WAS A GOD SUPERIOR TO ANY ARTIST WHAT WORDS COULD DESCRIBE THIS JOY?
CHORUS: PERHAPS SHE HAS HAD SECOND THOUGHTS PERHAPS SHE HAS RETURNED TO THE FLOCK- PERHAPS SHE WILL ABANDON HER WILD REBELLION REPENT & ASK FORGIVENESS?
ID: MY ART IS NOT FOR THE MUSIC HALL BUT FOR A TEMPLE OF MUSIC I HAD COME TO EUROPE TO BRING A RENAISSANCE OF RELIGION THROUGH THE DANCE TO BRING THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE HUMAN BODY THROUGH THE EXPRESSION OF ITS MOVEMENTS NOT TO DANCE FOR THE AMUSEMENT OF OVERFED BOURGEOISE AFTER DINNER ALONG WITH THE ACROBATS & TRAINED ANIMALS
CHORUS: SHE MUST BE CHASTISED SHE MUST BE PUNISHED SHE MUST BE SILENCED WE MUST EXACT JUSTICE STRIP OF HER FULSOME PRIDE LET HER LOVELIFE BE FORSAKEN NO,NON, NO THAT IS NOT ENOUGH LET US TAKE AWAY HER CHILDREN
ID: DANCE IS NOT A DIVERSION BUT A RELIGION ART IS THE FLOWER THE SPIRITUAL BREAD OF MANKIND
(ISADORA, IN TURBAN,ROBE & SCARF, SINKS TO THE FLOOR, WRITHES, & IS STRANGLED BY HER SCARF)
ON THIS AMERICAN THANKSGIVING DAY I GIVE THANKS FOR MY DANCE TEACHER TODAY SHE COMPLETES A FULL JUPITER CYCLE OF 30316 EARTH SPINS WHICH MEANS TWELVE JUPITER TRIPS AROUND THE SUN RETURNING TO THE SAME PLACE IN RELATION TO THE EARTH & SUN ON THE DAY SHE WAS BORN
LONG MAY YOU DANCE!!
I WAS DOING MY DANCE & SONG ACT DANCING WITH MY GUITAR ON THE CATHEDRAL SQUARE IN ANTWERP AND WAS PASSING THE HAT AFTER THE SHOW. “NICE TURNS” SAID A WOMAN WHO GAVE ME SOME MONEY. SHE’S WITH THE NYC BALLET, HER FRIEND SAID
***** I TELL MY GRANDMOTHER THAT I GET MORE SUPPORT FROM DANCERS THAN MUSICIANS & SHE SAYS, “TAKE YOUR SUPPORT WHERE YOU CAN GET IT” ***** ANOTHER DAY I WAS PERFORMING AND ANOTHER DANCER SHOWED UP AND COMPLIMENTS ME ON MY TURNS “YOU SHOULD SEE MY JUMPS”, I TOLD HER & SHE FOLLOWED ME TO ANOTHER SQUARE AND AFTER THE SHOW INVITED ME TO PERFORM FOR AN END OF YEAR BALLET CLASS AFTER MY PERFORMANCE WHICH INCLUDED A TANGO, A MINUET, & A ROCK & ROLL TWIST & A SUFI SPIN THE TEACHER INVITED ME TO TAKE CLASSES WITH HER I HAVE BEEN TAKING WEEKLY CLASSES WITH MARIE LOUISE WILDERIJCKX FOR OVER 25 YEARS NOW SHE PERFORMED AS A SOLOIST WITH BALLET VAN VLAANDEREN & THE KIROV BALLET AND HAS TAUGHT MANY MANY DANCERS INCLUDING SIDI LARBI CHERKAOUI SHE PLAYED HERSELF IN THE MOVIE ‘GIRL’ IN 2018 AND CONTINUES TEACHING FULL TIME AT THE KB JOSEE NICOLAI BALLET SCHOOL IN ANTWERPEN
THE TRIAL OF GEORGIA O’KEEFE INQ Miss O’Keefe, is it true that your flowers are really subconscious depictions of female genitalia and, therefore, subject to the obscenity laws of this free and beautiful country, which would make you a criminal in the eyes of the law and a pervert in the eyes of our Lord? OKEEFE Senator Hell, are you putting my flowers on trial? INQ Miss O’Keefe,(puffing on a cigar) would you please answer the question. O’KEEFE Sometimes a flower is just a flower, Senator. INQ But is a flower always a flower, Miss O’Keefe, or is it sometimes ahhh is there a way to put this delicately?) ahc vagina? O’KEEFE (Georgia smiles.) Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, Senator. Or is it sometimes a cock? INQ I’l be asking the questions, Miss O’Keefe. O’KEEFE Could you please repeat the question, Senator? INQ Is a cigar always a flower or is it sometimes a cunt? O’KEEFE Is a cigar always a flower, or is it sometimes a cunt, Senator Hole? INQ That’s Hell — not Hole! O’KEEFE (Georgia laughs) Flowers, cigars, cunts — what a still life that would be. INQ (Inquisitor hits the gavel.) Miss O’Keefe is held in contempt of congress. O’KEEFE I am not in contempt of congress. I enjoy congress. I always have. REPORTER How did it go, Miss O’Keefe? O’KEEFE The cow skulls I paint have more inside them than the skull of Senator Hell.
****** GEORGIA
SOFT PETALS UNFOLDING TENDERLY REVEALING SOFT,SOFT,SOFT OH GEORGIA THE LIPS ARE IN THEIR EYES SOMETIMES A FLOWER IS JUST A FLOWER
OLD COW SKULL COLLAPSING STARK DESERT BONE, HARSH, BONE OH GEORGIA AUSTERE BEHOLDER YOU, A WELL IN A BONE DRY LAND
A SKYSCRAPER SIMPLY TOWERING MAJESTICALLY ILLUMINATING METROPOLITAN COOL OH GEORGIA DETACHED OBSERVER A MONK IN BLACK IN A COLD,HARD CITY OF STONE
WHITE LIGHTNING WATER TREMBLING A BOLT UNVEILING THE EYE OF A STORM OH GEORGIA WEATHERED OBSERVER SIMPLY CONNECTED TO YOUR SOLITUDE
« The bus came by and I got on, that’s where it all began »-Grateful Dead
SHERRIF You’re in for vagrancy and hitchhiking. KEROUAC Yeah, yeah, I’m guilty — guilty. For the crime of having no dough of moving without a license the crime of having a child without sanction of the State the crime of believing in Buddha and Jesus at the same time the crime of smoking weeds – – eating peyote and mushrooms SHERRIF Just my luck .My deputy has to lock up a poet- and one whose verse runs longer than a freight train in the lonesome night. KEROUAC the crime of blowing poetry on television the crime of becoming famous the crime of not believing in my followers the crime of accepting life itself as a trial and letting no organization, state, country or religion become an intermediary between me and the universe SHERRIF WHOAAAA. Alright already. Don’t you have any friends that can give you a ride out of here? KEROUAC Not within a thousand miles, sheriff. SHERRIF Look, Kerouac, I don’t want to hear any more of this. I just had a fight with the wife and I was looking forward to a little peace and quiet tonight. Couldn’t you just get out of town? Get outta town on the next bus. Here’s twenty bucks – – and don’t even look back here……. *********** HOOP FOR THE LOWLY
THE ONLY ALTERNATIVE TO SLEEPING OUT HOPPING FREIGHTS AND DOING WHAT I WANTED WAS TO SIT IN FRONT OF A TELEVISION SET IN A MADHOUSE, SUPERVISED AND NODDING
WHAT IS A RAINBOW LORD? BUT A HOOP FOR THE LOWLY WHAT IS A RAINBOW LORD BUT A HOOP FOR THE LOWLY
BETTER TO SLEEP IN AN UNCOMFORTABLE BED UTTERLY, UTTERLY FREE THAN TO SLEEP IN A COMFORTABLE BED CONSTRAINED, SECURE AND UNHAPPY
I KNOW SOMETHING GOOD’S GONNA COME OUT OF ALL OF THIS ABOUT THE WAY WE FEEL ABOUT LIFE YOU AND I AIN’T ABOUT TO BUST ANYONE’S SKULL OR CUT SOMEONE’S THROAT FOR A DOLLAR
THINK WHAT A GREAT REVOLUTION MIGHT TAKE PLACE WHEN EAST MEETS WEST FINALLY AND GUYS LIKE US WILL START IT OFF WITH THE TENDERNESS OF DON QUIXOTE
MILLIONS OF GUYS ALL OVER THE WORLD RUCKSACKS ON THEIR BACKS TRAMPING AROUND THE BACK COUNTRY HITCHHIKING SHARING THE WORDS WITH EVERYBODY
JUST LIKE THE SAINTS OF OLD WE’VE DEDICATED OUR LIVES TO PRAYER AND WHO KNOWS THE WORLD MIGHT WAKE UP AND BURST INTO A BEAUTIFUL FLOWER OF DHARMA EVERYWHERE ********** from Tightrope see web page and YouTube Tightrope 1
You can watch Walter Cronkite in black & white take off his glasses to wipe a tear from his eye announcing the death of John Kennedy or you can listen to Murder most foul Bob Dylan’s long Sad lament from his Underground vault and both remind all of us of what we Once had and what we have lost
DR GACHET’S IN A FUNK EYES RESIGNED, SO SAD HEAD RESTING SO DESOLATELY IN HIS UPTURNED HAND
AS HE SITS FOR HIS PORTRAIT THE PICTURE OF DEFEAT HE SEES REALITY TOO CLEARLY NOW HIS FAILURE, ALL BUT COMPLETE
VINCENT IS CONSUMED, EXHAUSTED & ODDLY REMOVED STANDING AT THE EASEL LOST IN FEVERISH OEUVRE
IS IT VANITY, IMPOTENCE SELF INDULGENCE OR SELF HATE THAT PREVENTS HIM FROM RETURNING FROM THIS STATE?
THERE GOES THE LONE BLACK CROW THERE GOES THE LONE BLACK CROW THERE GOES THE LONE BLACK CROW THERE GOES …….RHYTHM VAN GOGH
SHIMMERING POPPIES, PULSATING PINES INSIDE OUTSIDE STAVES CONES & VINES NO DUALISM SEPARATES VINCENT’S BODY/MIND VISION AS VIBRATION THE TRACING & CAPTURE OF TIME
A SPIRALING GREEN TURQUOISE SKY A COUPLE WALKING THROUGH A CRESCENT MOON A PINE CONE, MOSS COVERED FOREST FLOOR BIRDS ON THE WING FLEEING THE GATHERING STORM
& THEN UP,UP, IN TO THE WOE UP,UP, IN TO THE WOE UP,UP, IN TO THE WOE THERE GOES …..RHYTHM VAN GOGH
I’M STILL WARMED BY HIS SUN’S RAYS I CAN STILL SMELL HIS WILD FLOWERS I CAN SEE THE WHEAT SWAY, ALMOST GROW LIE PEACEFULLY IN HIS OLIVE GROVE
THERE’S A MOVEMENT IN THE STARS (YOU KNOW IT) THERE’S A MOVEMENT IN THE SKIES (HE SHOWS IT) FEEL LIKE I’M SEEING FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME PERCEPTION SO FRESH, SO ELECTRIC SO ALIVE
HE WAS IN TUNE HE WAS IN MOTION — UNDIVIDED DEVOTION HE WAS IN TOUCH, HE HAD THE NOTION THAT ALL LIFE WAS IN MOTION
THERE GOES THE LONE BLACK CROW THERE GOES THE LONE BLACK CROW THERE GOES THE LONE BLACK CROW THERE GOES ……….RHYTHM VAN GOGH
*********
THE TRIAL OF VINCENT VAN GOGH “Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name”-Jagger/Richards INQ MR. VAN GOGH. VG VAN GO INQ VAN GOGH.no? VG VAN GOGH? NO. VAN GO, VA BENNE GACHET VAN GAUGH INQ ARE YOU HIS COUNSEL? GACHET NO I AM HIS DOCTOR IS HE ILL DR GA. SHIT? VG ITS GACHET INQ GACHET INQ VG INQ I’M TALKING TO THE DOCTOR GASHIT NOW GACHET bWELL? NO. HE HAS WILD SWINGS OF MOOD. VG ITS GACHET. BUT CALL HIM PAULIE GACHET CALL HIM VINNIE INQ IF HE ISN’T SICK WHY DOES HE NEED A DOCTOR? OK MR VAN GOGH WHERE ARE YOU FROM? VG I WAS BORN IN HOLLAND. I HAVE LIVED IN FRANCE AND BELGIUM AND CONSIDER MYSELF ITALIAN. INQ AND WHAT DO YOU DO FOR A LIVING? VG WELL, I STUDIED TO BE A PRIEST BUT IT TURNED OUT NOT TO BE MY TRUE CALLING. NOW I PAINT BUT HAVE SOLD ONLY ONE PAINTING WHICH IS WHY I AM SUPPORTED BY MY AGENT. INQ WHO HAPPENS TO BE YOUR BROTHER …..THEODORE VG YES INQ OUR REPORTS SAY THAT YOU WERE THROWN OUT OF ART SCHOOL IN ANTWERP. MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T BE A PAINTER EITHER? VG GAUGUIN SAYS THE SAME THING AFTER HE’S HAD A FEW DRINKS INQ GO ON? VG IT’S GAUGUIN AND I WASNT THROWN OUT OF ART SCHOOL I QUIT. ING IS IT TRUE THAT YOUR PAINTING THE POTATOE EATERS IS PROPOGANDA FOR MIGRANT WORKERS WHOSE UNION, WE ARE SURE, IS BEING ORGANIZED BY SOCIALISTS AND ANARCHISTS? VG YAH. (HIS HEAD SHAKING THE OTHER WAY) INQ NOW, NOW, MR VANZETTI WE HAVE AUTHORITARIAN SOURCES. GACHET (VG LOOKS AT GACHET QUIZZICALLY)THEY PROBABLY DO INQ
THAT WILL VOUCH THAT YOUR PAINTING IS SOCIALIST RABBLE ROUSING . VG WELL I GUESS YOU GOT ME ON THAT ONE INQ I DON’T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND THE SERIOUSNESS OF THIS COMMITTEE MR VAN GOTTI VG ART,IN MY BELIEF, IS A MISSION, IS A VOICE FOR THOSE WHO ARE DENIED A VOICE, FOR ALL THOSE ABLE TO HEAR THE CRIES OF HARDWORKING PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. INQ ARE YOU SAYING WHAT I THINK YOU ARE SAYING MR VAN GOTCHA? VG PAULIE, WHAT’S WITH THIS GUY GACHET I THINK HE HAS A PROBLEM WITH HIS HEARING VG THOSE WHO HAVE EARS TO HEAR, LET THEM HEAR. THOSE WHO HAVE NONE,LET THEM HAVE ONE OF MINE. (CRACKS HIS EAR OFF AND GIVES IT TO THE INQ) INQ GAAAAASHIT ALMIGHTY VG ITS GACHET ******** r.i.p. JAY BYRD
I SEDUCED THEM ALL; I MOTHERED THEM ALL I BETRAYED THEM ALL; SORRY, NO REGRETS I WAS AN OUTLAW IN THE HOUSE OF SEX
I USED MIRRORS AND VEILS, PERFUMES AND ILLUSIONS I COULDN’T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT THEIR TACIT COLLUSION I WAS SEARCHING FOR SOMETHING ELUSIVE TO FIND THE UNEXPLORED PARTS OF MY BODY, HEART AND MIND
I FOUND CLUES IN ALL MY FRIENDS & LOVERS AND I LIED TO MYSELF SO THAT THEY WOULDN’T SUFFER I TRADED PARTS OF ME FOR THE PARTS I COULDN’T SEE AND I DID IT WITH A FAITHFUL, UNWAVERING DISHONESTY
AS MY PISCES NATURE TENDS TO MYSTIFY AS MY BODY WANTS TO BE OCCUPIED AS MY EMOTIONS SEEK TO SYMPATHIZE AS MY MIND DEFINES AND RATIONALIZES THO MY SOUL JUST WANTS TO BE WHOLE
THE MORE I REALIZE I AM THE GIFT THE MORE I YIELD, THE MORE I SUBMIT THE MORE I SOAR, THE MORE I DESIRE THE MORE I FEED THIS UNQUENCHABLE FIRE THERE IS BLOOD IN MY HEAD, IN MY EYES INARTICULATE CRIES, MY WORDS DISGUISE
I’M GUSHING FROM MY WOMB LIKE HONEY FROM THE HIVE DAZZLING, DARK, MAGNIFICENT AND WILD THE FLAMED TONGUE, INSIDE OF ME ABSOLUTION, FINALITY, EQUALITY
THE METAMORPHOSIS OF INNOCENCE BLOOMS INTO EVER WIDER EXPERIENCE GOD HAS GIVEN ME FLOWERS TO SMELL AND TO SEE AND THE DEVIL WANTS TO KNOW — IF THEY’RE TASTY
IS MY INTELLECT PLAYING ANOTHER PRANK I’M EXHAUSTED, STIMULATED, HOT AND WET AND RANK AND EACH OF MY LOVERS REINFORCES ME THOUGH ITS HARDER EVERY DAY — TO PLEASE FOUR MEN SUCCESSFULLY ***********
THE TRIAL OF ANAIS NIN
“DON’T YOU WANT SOMEBODY TO LOVE, DONT’ YOU NEED SOMEBODY TO LOVE, WOULDN’T YOU LOVE SOMEBODY TO LOVE?” JEFFERSON AIRPLANE
INQ Miss Nin, you are on trial for the crime of bigamy. How do you plead? NIN Not guilty. INQ We have reports that you are married to two different men – – one in New York and the other in California. NIN I am a lover of men. Most men, at least the ones I know, would prefer ot have a mistress than a wife. And so I pretend with each. INQ You’re not married then at all? NIN No. You are a powerful man. You must enjoy a mistress… or two? Or would like to? INQ Miss Nin, we have reports that you were first married ni Cuba. NIN I don’t believe that either of us recognizes the legitimacy of the present government in Cuba. INQ That is true, Miss Nin. We also have reports you were married in Mexico. NIN Lies. Where do you get your information? INQ We don’t actually have any papers to verify this. NIN I would think not. I have come here to set the record straight. In this sordid climate people could accuse me of sleeping with my father or my children. INQ I didn’t know you had any children, Miss Nin? NIN I don’t. INQ Well thank you for your patience, Miss Nin. NIN I feel sorry for you. You have to account for your every move, arrival or exit. In your world there is a conspiracy against improvisation. INQ Except in jazz. NIN And the CIA! And you’re not a jazz musician!
HENRY MILLER WAS AN UNDERGROUND AMERICAN RIVER. UNLIKE HIS HERO,BLAISE CENDRARS, MILLER DID NOT SEARCH IN EXOTIC EAST AFRICAN LOCALES FOR TREASURES, BUT, INSTEAD, HE CHOSE TO SEARCH THROUGH THE PAGES OF FIVE THOUSAND BOOKS & THEN, HIMSELF, LOOKING TO DISCOVER SPIRITUAL TREASURES. IN THAT POOL OF INK , HENRY BECOME THE RIVER THAT CARRIES THE PURE LIVING WATER OF THE SOUL. HENRY MILLER’S RIVER WAS A MARK TWAIN STEAMBOAT CARRYING CARNIVAL OF A RIVER LADEN WITH EVERY INTERESTING CHARACTER HE COULD SMUGGLE ABOARD. IT WAS FILLED WITH THE BLOOD & TEARS & MOST OF ALL, THE JOY & LAUGHTER OF EVERY OUTCAST ARTIST & CHARLATAN THAT COULD ENTERTAIN & EDIFY HIM. MILLER’S RIVER FLOWED UP ! UP & AWAY THROUGH HILLS, MOUNTAINS, TREES, THROUGH THE CLOUDS, CIRCLED THE EARTH, CROSSED THE ILLUSIONARY DISTANCES OF SPACE UNTIL IT FLOWED, FINALLY, INTO THE MILKY WAY. OFTEN,THE RIVER OVERFLOWED ITS BANKS. HOW GENEROUS THIS RIVER.HOW FECUND, THE DELTA THAT THIS RIVER SPAWNED. SOMETIMES THE RIVER RAGED SO STRONG THAT IT WOUNDED. IT WAS AN UNDERGROUND, ROLLER COASTER OF A RIVER THAT BEGAN NEAR CONEY ISLAND.. NO WONDER IT HAD WILD TWISTS & TURNS, UNEXPECTED DETOURS, & DECEPTIVE MEANDERINGS LEADING TO EXOTIC ISLANDS WITH DRAMATIC WATERFALLS. THE WATERFALLS WERE WONDROUS, BREATHTAKING,SEETHING, DANGEROUS & CHURNING. YOU COULD HURL YOURSELF OVER IT WITH HIM, BATHE IN THE IDYLLIC POOL BEYOND OR HIDE BEHIND IT,PURIFIED AS A NEW BORN BABE, NAKED AND AS OPEN TO THE NEW WORLD THAT HAD JUST OPENED UP BEFORE YOU. THE RIVER PASSED THROUGH INCREDIBLE VARIETIES OF TERRAIN; MYRIADS OF MOOD TURNS; THROUGH DARK GULCHES OF DESPAIR; THROUGH SKYSCRAPER CITY QUARRIES; CEMETERY FARMS & IMAGINARY FORESTS OF DELIGHT PEOPLED WITH NYMPHS & SATYRS. IT STRETCHED FROM MANHATTAN ISLAND TO MONTEREY PENINSULA; FROM GREEK ISLANDS TO PARISIAN BROTHELS; FROM UNDERGROUND CAVES FULL OF DRIPPING STALACTITES & GUSHING GEYSERS & STRANGE FOUNTAINS OF YELLOWSTONE LANDSCAPE. IT WAS A CURIOUS,EVER MOVING, CONSTANTLY DIVERTING & ALWAYS EXPLORING NEW LEVELS, VARIEGATED TEXTURES & OF COURSE, NEW BEDS … MILLER’S RIVER POLISHED EMERALDS & RUBIES; ROBBED BANKS; PROSPECTED RICH DEPOSITS OF ORE & LORE & ALCHEMIZED THEM ALL. IT WAS A WONDEROUS, REFRESHING, CONTINUALLY SEARCHING RIVER, LOOKING FOR OLD STREAMS OF THOUGHT, FORGOTTEN BRANCHES OF KNOWLEDGE, ANCIENT WELLS OF WISDOM & TAPPING ETERNAL FOUNTAINS OF YOUTH ********* THE TRIAL OF HENRY MILLER INQ Mr. Miller is on trial for obscenity for something called Tropic of Capricorn which he wrote three years ago here in Brooklyn. LAWYER Your Honor, my client wrote Tropic of Cancer twenty-five years ago in Paris. He is now 73 years old. You might as well put DH. Lawrence on trial. INQ So, We’ll arest him and wel’l put him on trial, too LAWYER Your Honor, he is not from Brooklyn. So, we’ll get an extradition order. LAWYER Well, first… INQ Yes? LAWYER He’s dead! INQ And secondly? LAWYER He’s not an American. INQ Well I guess in that case there are extenuating circumstances. LAWYER Your Honor, I move to dismiss this case. INQ Where is Mr. Miller, counsel? And, Why isn’t he here today? LAWYER Mr. Miller is living in Big Sur, California, and has sent a letter to the court which I will submit for the record. INQ What are the grounds for dismissal? LAWYER Your Honor, when Mr. Miller wrote Tropic of Cancer, Grove Press did not exist and Mr. Miller’s publisher was twelve years old and still knew nothing of the joys of self-abuse, much less obscenity. INQ (MUMBLES) Wel I began masturbating at 12. But, ah. case dismissed!
******** WITHOUT HENRY MILLER I WOULD NOT HAVE HAD THE EXAMPLE OF HOW TO SURVIVE WITHOUT BEING FAMOUS. I ONLY ENVIED BOB DYLAN ONCE, THAT HE PLAYED PING PONG WITH HENRY MILLER! AND I HAD READ MUCH OF MILLER BEFORE I READ BOB’s SONGS & POEMS… I GAVE BOB DYLAN A SONG & A MEXICAN TEXTILE ONCE UPON A TIME, A LONG TIME AGO, @17,417 DAYS BY THE MAYAN CALENDAR LONG COUNT AND I DON’T REMEMBER IF THE POEM CHALLENGED HIM TO A DUEL OR A PING PONG MATCH. SEE, I WROTE A FEW VERSIONS OF THE POEM AND MAYBE THE ARCHIVES WILL REVEAL WHICH VERSION I GAVE HIM. MAYBE BOB REMEMBERS…..
Just a few meters from the grand place in Brussels hangs this plaque where the Courtrai hotel stood where Arthur Rimbaud was shot and wounded by his lover, the poet, Paul Verlaine on the 19th of July 1873
Rimbaud/verlaine plaque in Brussels
I’LL NEVER LOVE AGAIN THE BALLAD OF ARTHUR RIMBAUD
I LOVED HIM WELL THOUGH I KNEW HE HAD A WIFE I FOLLOWED HIM AROUND TILL HE TRIED TO TAKE MY LIFE I WAS FAITHFUL — I WAS TRUE — HE HAD A NEW BORN BABY, TOO HE WAS THE GREATEST POET THAT I KNEW FROM PARIS TO LONDON TO BRUSSELS WE FOLLOWED MISTRESS IN BODY AND MISTRESS IN BOTTLE- FAITHFUL RIMBAUD AND TREACHEROUS ABSINTHE ONE WANTED HIM TO RISE, THE OTHER WANTED HIM TO SINK CHORUS: I GAVE IT ALL UP FOR LOVE AND I’LL NEVER LOVE AGAIN POETRY AND PAULIE WERE TOO CLOSELY LINKED I’LL NEVER WRITE AGAIN IT WOULD CAUSE ME TO THINK OF HOW I FELT, AND HOW I KNELT AND HOW MY POOR YOUNG HEART WAS SHOT TO PIECES NOW I BID THIS CURSED CONTINENT FAIRWELL AND A LOVE TOO TRUE I MUST SHELVE IF IT WAS A CRIME, IT WAS THE CRIME OF LOVING TOO MUCH IT WAS THE BRIDEGROOM FROM HELL THAT ROUGHED ME UP THOUGH THE BULLET FROM HIS GUN ONLY GRAZED ME MY HEART EXPLODED DEVASTATINGLY I WAS THE VIRGIN — I WAS THE BRIDE (NOW I’M THE WIDOW) MY INNOCENCE IS ENOUGH TO MAKE ME CRY IN SORROW AND IN SHAME HE WENT TO PRISON I RETURNED TO MY MOTHER’S, WHERE I SET DOWN THIS VISION AIN’T IT A SHAME WHEN YOUR LOVE IS IN VAIN I SPENT A SPRING IN HELL WITH PAULIE VERLAINE NOW IT’S TIME TO BURY MY MEMORIES AS WELL AS MY CAREER AS TELLER OF STORIES AND TRY TO LAUGH AT THESE AFFAIRS OF OLD POSSESSING THE TRUTH — WITHIN ONE BODY — ONE SOUL
INQUISITOR Mssr. Rimbaud, do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you god? RIMBAUD I do. But where to begin? With your mouth that speaks of garlic and lilacs? Or your feet, which reek of sulfur and sweat? Or your cock, which still smells of last night’s encounter with your mistresses fundament? Yes, where to begin. Oysters on the half shell. Mussels on a bed of leeks, endive. Double fried potatoes, which the English, in all stupidity forever changed the course of culinary history by calling them French, when every German, Dutchman or Frenchman know them as Belgian. INQ Now, now, Rimbaud. How old are you? RIMBAUD Old enough! INQ And how old is that? RIMBAUD I’m nineteen, but I’ll be twenty in a few months. Want to send me a birthday gift? INQ Where do you live? RIMBAUD With my mother in Charleville, France, near the Belgian border. INQ Son, you’re on trial for the crime that hath no name. RIMBAUD What crime si that you ole’ buggerer? INQ How dare you call me a… RIMBAUD A buggerer? INQ You little snot nose! RIMBAUD The crime that hath no name? How about sodomy or fellatio? INQ Don’t put words in my mouth, Rimbaud. RIMBAUD Fellatio is in the mouth of the beholder, Inquisitor. INQ Come again? It is beauty that is in the mouth. RIMBAUD You bored old hypocrite. You miserable wretch. Whip your horses to the utmost – excitement, money, politics! You are on your way ot creating a whole nation of lunatics. INQ Listen to me, you little punk. RIMBAUD I am an animal, a nigger. But I can be saved. Maniacs, savages, misers, all of you. Businessman – general — emperor – president. You’ve drunk a liquor no one taxes – – from Satan’s still. This nation is inspired by fever and cancer. Invalids and old men are so respectable that they ask to be boiled. The best thing is to quit this continent where madness prowls — out to supply hostages for these wretches.
