VINCENT VAN GOGH

RHYTHM VAN GOGH

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


see tightrope webpage and YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nigOrDoH-T8
20:13

ANAIS NIN

HOUSE OF SEX

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!

**********
From the play Tightrope
see webpage and youtube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nigOrDoH-T8
38:15

HENRY MILLER

UNDERGROUND RIVER

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!

from TIGHTROPE

see web page and youtube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wUpXqoe5HnI
1:44

********
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…..

ARTHUR RIMBAUD

20 October 1854 – 10 November 1891)

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

from the play TIGHTROPE (SEE WEB PAGE)
and see video
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nigOrDoH-T8
32:00-38:00

THE TRIAL Of ARTHUR RIMBAUD

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.