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

Postby admin » Tue Sep 24, 2013 7:49 am

Magician's Hat, by Charles Carreon

Borrowing the magician's hat,
and upturned cuffs,
And a certain flair with the audience,
Introducing my lovely assistant,
Invisible as ever but lovely nonetheless,
I present myself to you
As what I am.

For my opening and closing act tonight
I will be everybody and somebody
And nobody and you.
I will examine parallelograms,
enteogens, exorcism ...
Making reference to the placement of furniture
In your living room.

I will tell you the story of a broken heart
and of the girl who broke it more thoroughly.

I will tell you how my lovely assistant
came to be.

We will walk till you are lost in the mirror-land
of mutating forms.

You will feel desire pulling you on through
Colored sand,
rainbow fountains,
Drifting clouds,
Across valleys perfect and serene.

You will journey far and re-emerge to
Red lips
chromed steel,
Cold leather.

You will greet the mirror,
Motherlover, angeldoubter ...
Poison popsickle sucker,
Lick and roller,
Tide rider ...
A ship burns on the sea at midnight,
And she is among the dead.

A clinging mist chills the harbor,
An old man's eyes scan the waves.
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POETRY

Postby admin » Tue Sep 24, 2013 7:51 am

Mama's Home, by Charles Carreon

Kay Kay Kay tookmy bay-bee away -- !
protestants stole my sweetie, catholix ripped
off my condoms, bankofamerica repo-ed my Brain.
Blue blood thrift executive slime
took Mother Mary for a ride in a credit card scam
(mastah-charge and veeza downthedrain)
SHE AIN'T GONNA TAKE IT NO MORE !
She rips off her bra in an agony of relief,
AND WITH A BEATIFIC SMILE ON HER FACE
takes out Wayne Newton, Frank Sinatra and Ronald Reagan
in that order, with three measured blasts.
Then it's on to others, annihilating them before
they can see her, making kitty litter out of headlines
that advertise a "second coming": she only comes ONCE.
Rupert Murdock and Patty Hearst will have to find
some other flabby universe to screw up
now that she's back, asserting her BIG MOUTH --

YEAH YEAH YEAH
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POETRY

Postby admin » Wed Sep 25, 2013 8:15 pm

May, by Charles Carreon

Well, come what May
Here I'll stay
can't get away
Anyway.
Solitary fire
tortured lyre
Burned out
Memory wire.
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POETRY

Postby admin » Wed Sep 25, 2013 8:16 pm

Merry Man, by Charles Carreon

I see the towers and glass,
the ultrasuede.
It don't impress me.
 
They're just the markers in a silly game.
When we were kids
We used to play Monopoly.
 
But now the hotels are real,
and I have to sit in them,
and pay the rent,
and watch the videos on TV.
 
Don't hold out thirty pieces
in the form of a lifetime pension,
and ask me to betray my own family.
I've sat down at your table,
and it's set with silver plate,
But like the man once said,
there's just some shit I cannot eat.
 
Yes maybe I have vampire fangs like you,
And my eyes can gleam like ice,
But no mistake,
I'm just a Merry Man,
And I've got you in my sights.
 
Yeah I'll fight you
till we're both so weak
we can barely stand;
You'll yield or I will
kill you if I can.
 
And if I play this game for keeps,
It's you who made the rules,
and heaven judge us both
if we're fighting here like fools.
I'll take the common road
and give my friend a hand.
You catch a ride to the castle gate.
I'll stick with the band.
 
Los Angeles, 12/12/90
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Postby admin » Wed Sep 25, 2013 8:23 pm

Metamorphosis, by Charles Carreon

Image

Out very late
Eyes so bright as to be unnatural
Walking about in the light of street lamps
Hands shoved deep into pockets
Gazing at the stars thoughtfully
Fully conscious of the 3 A.M. silence
Saying very little
Listening listening
And everything is quietly whispering
Whispering very quietly
And we hear the whispering grow to a soft murmur
Soft light in the east begins to turn off the stars one by one
They disappear
And the light grows
Still we walk about
A bit chilly and
Talking softly about important things
Garbage trucks and lumber camps
Important things
And as all in the east grows indigo
We sit at the edge of a vacant lot
Watch the sun crawl over the horizon
Glowing very bright pink
Silent we are
With the glow fading from our eyes now
Simply smile and sigh and watch
In the living room play chess
As the sun scrubs the darkness away
Renegade bands of light rout the fading shadows
... and --- we sighed a long sigh -- for awhile
Then our minds curled up
Like cats before a warm stove
In a kitchen with a woman smiling 'round and
Singing songs the words of which she does not know

1969
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Postby admin » Wed Sep 25, 2013 8:27 pm

Michelangelo Said to Diego Rivera, by Charles Carreon

Standing straight up here and now
The world is on fire
consumed by flames
One thing only remains,
Desire,
and that by a million names.

Who shall
measure the metes of the expanding universe
between the span of his hands?
Who shall
hold all life in the hollow of her palm
In the heart of a fertile valley,
Where a thousand rivers bloom?

No one
conquers all questions.
All die
to some extent unfulfilled.
The trick to appreciating that
is not so difficult.
Just laugh ...
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Postby admin » Wed Sep 25, 2013 8:30 pm

Mind in Eclipse, by Charles Carreon

Image

Our true nature abides
Like the sun in eclipse,
Obscured by the dark disc
Of a coal-eyed moon.
The only difference is this --
The sun is obscured by a stone,
While the shadow cast
by flesh and bone
Upon the inner eye
Is at most a figment,
At worst a lie.

***

Image

An eclipse lays to rest the illusion that the moon is self-luminous, and reveals the sun to be the sole source of light.
It has also been said that when the thinking mind is eclipsed in meditation, then only are the stars of the true nature visible.
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Postby admin » Wed Sep 25, 2013 8:32 pm

Mirror Dance, by Charles Carreon

I saw two spectres dancing in a mirror,
enchanted with each other,
in the darkness of an empty room,
to music only they could hear.
I saw the spectres powerless and begging,
collapsed inside the glass in pain.
The spectres longed to touch,
but their world was all appearance
and contact eluded them.
Eventually I had to leave them
so their suffering could end.
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Postby admin » Wed Sep 25, 2013 8:36 pm

Moon, by Charles Carreon

The moon bounces around the earth
like an odd gear
looking for a place to rest.
Never finding it,
She's taken to flirting with the situation,
tantalizing all who view her
with her endless oblique glances.
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Postby admin » Wed Sep 25, 2013 8:37 pm

Moon's Goin' Down, by Charles Carreon

Why does Captain Kangaroo
still frighten me?

Where did Mommy go
when she died?

Is there a golden rainbow for Pocahantas,
or is John Smith just a fucker?

For these and other questions
I have looked for answers
Somewhere out beyond
The last motel
The last girl
The last drink
The last smoke
The Big Sky --

Moon's goin' down tonight.
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