Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Identified as a trouble maker by the authorities since childhood, and resolved to live up to the description, Charles Carreon soon discovered that mischief is most effectively fomented through speech. Having mastered the art of flinging verbal pipe-bombs and molotov cocktails at an early age, he refined his skills by writing legal briefs and journalistic exposes, while developing a poetic style that meandered from the lyrical to the political. Journey with him into the dark caves of the human experience, illuminated by the torch of an outraged sense of injustice.

Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Mon Sep 16, 2013 5:22 pm

Poetry and Songs
by Charles Carreon

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Charles Carreon, The Arizona Kid

Table of Contents:

1984 Christmas Card from the Notorious Carreons
2 AM Swim at the Sunset Cliffs
A Good Roar
A Measure of Value
A Mexican Fourth of July
After Troy
Ahi Sandwich
All Along the Spine of the Siskiyous
All Rise
Ambu Baba and the Forty Thieves
An Atlas of Her Body
An Ideal Achieved
Android
Angels Do Not
A Cry of Vultures
Architecture
Autumn Poem
Baby Boom, Kaboom
Backroads Driver
Bankers from Hell
Bay Area Nonsense Poem #1
Beastly Man With Savoie Faire
Bedtime Prayer
Better Safe Than Sorry
Beware Software
Big House
Bitter and Bile
Blackmail
Boatman
Bookworm
Boogaloo Baby and the Ripstop Mama
Border Song
Buddhist Horror Flick
Built to Last
Burn Your Bridges
Burning Man Journal
Bush Riders Outta Control
Buy American
Campus
Can't Change the Channel
Cat Whiskers
Che!
Child of Fortune
Circuit of Light
Clearcut
Coffee Drinking Cockroach
Cold Street Light
Colestine Ragtime
Come Back Salmon
Conan Doyle Said To Rudyard Kipling
Condoleezza
Cool World
Cosmic Enron Bookkeeping
Crash Landing
Crete
Day One of Last Day Diary
Dazbidanya, Amerikanski
December 26, 2005
Declaration
Dedicated to Dominique Sanda
Deity Clutter
Deliver Us From Evil
Diamond Bullets
Diggers
Disarm Cheney Before He Shoots Someone Else
Doin' God's Work
Don't Kill Nobody
Don't Let It Get You Down
Don't Mess With My Mom
Dorothy Chandler's Dead
Dream Descent
Elvis Must Die
Engine
Everybody Wants to Be Like Paris Hilton
Evolution
Explode on the Border
Eye for Eye
Factors
Fake News, Self-Censorship and the Three Stupid Monkeys
Four Stars
Freak
Freedom From Fear
From a Dream
Fuck the NWO
Gargoyle
Ghost Sheriff
Glimpsed in the Mirror of Dreams
God Loves a Hypocrite
Gold
Good Evening, Cottonwood
Good Morning, Cottonwood
Hard Time For A Free Mind
Hanging Joke
Harsh Words
Hazard!
He's a man
He Screams
Heaven's Perfect
Holy Writ
Homage a Spinrad
Homage to the Lama
Hot Mamas
Hotel Babylonia
How Shiraz Spent One of Her Nine Lives
I Ain't Hatin' Satan
I am Attached
I Ask You ...
I Became a Luddite
I Declare
I Don't Love Lucy
Idle Musing
Idyll
I Got My Buddhas
In Town
Internet Addiction
In the Womb of Stone
Is It Thunder?
Island
It's a Predatory Civilization
It's Gonna Get Worse (Before It Gets Better)
It's Tantra Baby
Jail Tale
Kindness, Freedom, Honesty, Courage
Land of No Sun
Last Week
Law Firm
Let's Go Back to the Days of Dialup
Lightning Bolt
Lips
Lone Madman
Loneliness
Longing Lament at Eventide in Chinese Style
Lorenzo's Parting Thoughts
Love Letter to Cottonwood Creek (West Fork)
Luck
Magic
Magician's Hat
Mama's Home!
May
Merry Man
Metamorphosis
Michelangelo Said To Diego Rivera
Mind in Eclipse
Mirror Dance
Moon
Moon's Goin' Down
More Magic Than You'll Ever Know
Moth
Mother's Day
Mother's Voice
Multiple Gunshot Suicides
Murder Czar
My Red Sky
Nailed
National Roulette
New Season
Nice
Night Wandering
No Karma Karma
No Stopping It
No Doubt I Was Born a Fool
Non-memory
Not Everyone All At Once ...
Nova Donna's Valentine
Of What Hypothesis Are You Capable?
Off-Planet Haiku by Zafu
Ohhh! Bama
On Buddhist Boards
On the Origin of Clouds
One View of History
Ordinary World
Panorama
Paper Bag Blues
Path of the Waning Day
Pat Robertson For President
Persona
Pig Party
Pistolero
Plan "B"
Planet Earth, 2008
Plastic Doesn't Breathe
Pocket Essay Re: Ramones
Practical Wisdom
President Evil
Professor Dee
Psychic Cartography
Psycho Santa
Rain Heard Outside the Open Window of the Motel Room
Reese's Cups
Requiem
Retreat Days
Reunion
Reverie
Run, Run, Ambu Run
Safe From Realization
Sandwich
Seed
Shadow Children
She Was Born
Signs of the Times
Silver
Sinecure of Moonlight
Skull Behind Your Smile
Slender Threads
Smoky Night
Smug Pig
Soldier
Somebody's Wearin' a Skull Necklace
Sorcerer
Spring
Stranger Destination
Suicide Santa
Summer
Supernatural Wail
Sword of the Wind
Tales of the Pioneers
Tasting the Edge of Dawn
Thanksgiving Day 2019
... That Naughty Girl
The Atom
The Ballad of Javier Solis
The Boatman Song
The Company You Keep
The Consummation of Snarfo
The Devil Came to Cibolo
-- Skipping Scalia autopsy spawns conspiracy theories, By Gregory Krieg
-- The death of Antonin Scalia: Chaos, confusion and conflicting reports, By Eva Ruth Moravec, Sari Horwitz and Jerry Markon
-- Why Should You and I Have to Keep Paying Mitch McConnell’s Salary?, By Jim Hightower

The Dice Man Meets Nixon and Me at 4:30 A.M. in the Downtown Portland Days Inn
The Galleries of Sky
The Jester Has His Say
The Last Limousine
The Lemming National Anthem
The Minotaur of Hollywood, A Harvey Weinstein Production
The Old Veto (V-Toe)
The Oracle
The People
The Point is Nothing
The Samba of Ignorance
The Starlit Tomb
The Trojan Horse
The Universe Begins With "A"
The Waterfall
The Wilshire Bus
The World Won't Work Anymore
The Yurt
They're Looking So Pretty
Tibetan Two-Step, Shuffle & Slide
To Rage
Tough Lady
Trans-Human
Trash
TV Man
Tyrannophilia
Umbilicus
Untitled
Upon a Mighty Mountain
Vajra
Very Twisted
Vlad and Me
Walking on the Razor's Edge
We Are Not Alone
Wedding at Canaa
What the Eye Wants to See
What We Are
When I Was Alone at the Edge of the World
When You Really Ask Yourself
Whoa Earth
Windy Weather Sets You to Thinking
World Class Buddhist Shopper
Workin' For The CIA
Worst Horse
Yearning to Fly
You Can't Defeat An Avocado
You Got Played
Zombies Don't Come
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POETRY

Postby admin » Mon Sep 16, 2013 5:33 pm

1984 Christmas Card From the Notorious Carreons, by Charles Carreon

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HOLIDAY SPECIALS
WE CAN:
Obtain money for your pain & suffering
O'Keefe's face
can be lethal as well.
The problem will only get worse.
But there's a way out.

Image

Less ALTERNATIVE
The good citizens
of L.A.
cordially invite you
to A THAI RESTAURANT
the Freeway Concerto for
trombone and cars
the death of the charioteers
Chicano and Mexican music
the shine of sweat on
male and female alike,
hordes of rumpled citizens
walking the streets, glassy-eyed
and slack-jawed chanting
"Koyaanisqatsi"
in a deep, booming whisper

Image

And think how twisted we are,
the troupe has always dangled from
the competitors
the collective
anguish
hell and damnation
stink bomb capitalist
the classical tradition
devilish talent
reading, preaching and
converting the crowd
bicyclists mix with rank amateurs
enough to induce vertigo in the hardiest
cross between W.C. Fields
and Nina Hagen
Bring a friend
I wanna go.
parking limited
Merry
X-mas
from
L.A.
and the
NOTORIOUS CARREONS!
LUV-2-ALL

Image
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POETRY

Postby admin » Mon Sep 16, 2013 5:37 pm

2 AM Swim At The Sunset Cliffs, by Charles Carreon

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Pizza slinging done for the night --
After-hours Budweiser consumed.
Close the back door.
Silent dark streets, ocean roar
off to the right -- Japan, China, Hawaii, over there.
Beach condos, occupants asleep.
Dark waves rolling in.
Walking down the sidewalk damp with mist,
My shadow goes first before me, then behind,
slave to the nearest streetlamp.
Cut down from the well-lit cul-de-sac,
Squeeze between a wall and some barbed wire,
Follow a sandy track to the base of the cliffs.
Dark, calm sea, a slopping wet hugeness
Clawing softly at the shore.
I strip and roll my clothing up,
Wade into water black as pitch.
The sandy shelf tips sharply down
I feel like a pencil about to roll
off the edge; three or four steps
And the wetness closes over me,
limbs floating in a threatening womb,
Fathomless, pulling, down, down, deeper --
Appalling to the inner ear;
I try to float, abandoning effort, weight,
and thought, but I can't
Do it. Clearly I see a gleaming knot
of twisted iron. That's me/it's death.
Back in the land of the living --
My wallet, My pants, My glasses. I'm wet skin.
Walking with shoes on back to the travelall.
Down the freeway under serials of arc-lamps.
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POETRY

Postby admin » Mon Sep 16, 2013 5:39 pm

A Good Roar, by Charles Carreon

Charles Carreon's re-write of a Dudjom Rinpoche poem
(see original below)

A good roar
Empties acres of wilderness.
On snowy peaks
Among waterfalls,
My mane hangs loose.

With my sharp eyes and iron talons,
Who would hide in a pile of bricks?
These wings climb thermals
Spiralling staircases
That go everywhere --
No one can follow me into the sky.

Flashing fiery stripes
In green-leafed chaos
Draped with venomous reptiles,
I’m safe from everything, and
Smell that – what a nice smell!

My wings are crazy fast
They wind up and
I’m bang-on for those fat blossoms
Let’s dive into that pollen
Drink up all that sweetness
And hummm together

With naked feet and clear sight,
I’m happy in here.
We can do this.
Nice day, huh?

_______________

Dudjom Rinpoche's Version

A song I sang as I was about to depart from Kongpo to wander aimlessly in central Tibet and other regions:

I, a roaring lion, do not need a palace:
My lion palace is the snow mountains’ exalted heights.
I shake my excellent turquoise mane as I please
As I roam at will in delightful snow mountain ravines.

I, an eagle, do not need a fortress:
My white eagle fortress is the loftiest cliff.
I spread wide my excellent wings as I please
As I soar through the space of the vast blue heavens.

I, a tiger, do not need a castle:
My tiger castle is the densest jungle.
I show off my stripes as I please
As I set out to prowl in the best sandalwood forests.

I, a golden bee, do not need farmland:
My bee farmland is the fines lotus groves.
I sing beautiful melodious songs as I please
As I hover to take the sweetest tasting nectar.

I, a yogi, do not need a home:
My yogi home is good any place I roam.
I naturally achieve my two noble goals
As I set out to wander aimlessly as I please.

I Dudjom, spoke this nonsense.

_______________

John Potts' Version

*A song I sang as I was about to depart from Kongpo, to wander aimless in central Tibet and other regions**

I'm a roaring lion, I don't need a palace:
My lion palace is the snow mountains’ lofty heights.
Shaking my excellent turquoise mane just as I please
Freely roaming in delightful snow mountain ravines.

I'm an eagle, I do not need a fortress:
My white eagle fortress is the highest cliff.
Spreading my excellent wings as wide as I please
Soaring through the space in vast heavens of blue.

I'm a tiger, I don't need a castle:
My tiger castle is the densest jungle.
Flaunting my stripes, just as I please
Setting out to prowl the finest sandalwood forests.

I'm a golden bee, I don't need farmland:
My bee farmlands are the finest lotus groves.
Singing beautiful melodious songs, just as I please
Hovering to drink the sweetest tasting nectar.

I'm a yogi, I don't need a home:
My yogi's home is good, anywhere I roam.
Naturally achieving my two noble goals
Setting out to wander aimlessly, just as I please.

I myself, Dudjom, spoke this nonsense.
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POETRY

Postby admin » Mon Sep 16, 2013 5:42 pm

A Measure of Value, by Charles Carreon (14 yrs. old)

Image

If of value at all
It has its roots in desire
And cravings,
Lusts and wants beyond understanding.
It must be needed as life by life,
And no less

(1969)
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SONG

Postby admin » Mon Sep 16, 2013 5:45 pm

A Mexican Fourth of July, by Charles Carreon



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There once was a man named Columbus
Italian I think that he was
He got lost on the way to the Indies
And laid claim to this country instead

The people who lived here were Mayas
Olmecas, Toltecas and such
We worshipped among the volcanoes
And lived in traditional huts

We lived mainly on beans and tortillas
With tomatoes and chilies for spice
We built pyramids bigger than Walmarts
But the greeters were not very nice.

When Cortez arrived sometime later
He kidnapped the Mexican King
We had heavy clubs and obsidian knives
But against bullets they don't do a thing.

The Padres and Popes screwed us freely
And the Spanish gave way to the French
Benito Juarez strung up Maximillian
Ruling Mexico's never a cinch.

Of course, we once owned California
Arizona, New Mexico, too
We mined gold, silver and turquoise
But not like Americans do.

Then you dammed up the water, you bastards,
The Colorado no longer flows free
To the Golfo de California
You took it for nothing from me.

You make fun of our clothes and our English
Even though Espanol you can't speak
You deride us for tanning so darkly
While you hide from the sun like a freak.

Go on laugh, you pinche Cabrones
Laugh until you piss your pants
We are the ones with cojones
Move aside, so that we can get past.

We won't spit in your milkshake, hermano
In fact let me supersize that
More fries? Absolutely senora,
When compared with a pig, you're not fat.

You watch porn like you're all maricones
Jerking off while your wives waste away
When you forget how to screw altogether
I will call that a wonderful day.

When cute Mexicanas are flirting
Red blooded chamacos must play
It's true we don't do much computing
You don't make Mexicanos that way.

You're going to build walls on the border
With Mexican Labor I hear
The Israelis tried that in their desert
Soon we'll have suicide beaners here.

You are laughing, I see mi amigo,
Your sonrisa is smiling so bright
So have one of these chili poppers
On a Mexican fourth of July.
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POETRY

Postby admin » Mon Sep 16, 2013 5:48 pm

After Troy, by Charles Carreon

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To destroy another's homeland is not brave.
The gods appoint the hours
Of man's destruction, and enemies
But loot the ruins of that which heaven overturns.

To be long away from home in battle is not sweet.
The spirit craves only the warmth of the home fires,
The familiar shape of one's own island
Carved against the sky.

An old goat sticks to the highlands
Where men don't trust their feet.
A clever fellow watches and waits.
Time does his work for him.

Now numberless leagues of sea
Separate my men from those they love.
The waves give not a single inch,
And silence is heard from above.

Adventures have carved sinews on my back,
Streaked my beard with grey.
The work of outwitting gods and men,
Is with me every day.

Scylla and Charybdis will I dare
Their gnashing teeth will meet my glare,
And Circe with her magics try
And little better fare.

As Heracles for golden apples
Journeyed to the sun,
So to join Penelope,
The longest race I'll run.
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POETRY

Postby admin » Mon Sep 16, 2013 5:50 pm

Ahi Sandwich, by Charles Carreon

Image

There was a man
who had a band
And a pocketful of sand
He took my hand
And in my eyes
He looked to find
Another kind of mind there

It was an Ahi Sandwich moment
A real tantalizing torment
to realize we'd never make it to the moon
Might even work until we jerk
Upon the end of the hangman's rope
Ah you could hope
Like the fellow at the Owl Creek Bridge
Never to wake
From the last dream
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POETRY

Postby admin » Mon Sep 16, 2013 5:51 pm

All Along the Spine of the Siskiyous, by Charles Carreon

It's a soft-focus night, moonless and mute.
Truck-light on the freeway
filters through gentle rain drifting
from the mountains,
cloaking the valley.

In the upper reaches of the valley,
a southward-running ridge,
a finger of forest reaching
into the drylands of California.
Winds stream by,
Stirring the tall trees,
Bearing a harvest of clouds.
To the north -- coolness and moisture.
In the south -- valleys filled with dry grass.
There is tension between the two.
They lie next to each other,
all along the spine of the Siskiyous,
everything touching, licking each other
with tongues of clouds.
In the morning,
The fruit of their love
is fresh-fallen snow.
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POETRY

Postby admin » Mon Sep 16, 2013 5:53 pm

All Rise, by Charles Carreon

A tiny man of flesh and bone
Wandering over the frozen dirt
That glitters with countless crystals
Of frozen water,
Will gaze about him and
Beneath him
And discover
A lack of tethers,
A great silence ready to respond
With echoes only to his any word.
Tree bark, lichen-patched stone,
Blades of dried grasses
Rimed with frost--
One need only forget
To be utterly lost.

Residing on a spinning ball
We cannot depart from
But only fall into,
We forget the cliff,
The abyss of no experience
Into which we will tumble
When death pulls his abrupt
And exceedingly impractical joke.

Nevertheless, all rise,
The sovereign lord appears,
Speaking eloquently with
Ten million warming rays
To bathe, caress and possess
All the numberless creatures
Born of boundlessness.

1/30/94, Colestine
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