Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

For the sake of ornament and illumination.

Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Thu Nov 09, 2017 7:26 am

The Minotaur of Hollywood, A Harvey Weinstein Production
Dedicated to Los Angeles, that Loved Harvey Weinstein, Until it Didn't
by Charles Carreon
November 9, 2017

NOTICE: THIS WORK MAY BE PROTECTED BY COPYRIGHT

YOU ARE REQUIRED TO READ THE COPYRIGHT NOTICE AT THIS LINK BEFORE YOU READ THE FOLLOWING WORK, THAT IS AVAILABLE SOLELY FOR PRIVATE STUDY, SCHOLARSHIP OR RESEARCH PURSUANT TO 17 U.S.C. SECTION 107 AND 108. IN THE EVENT THAT THE LIBRARY DETERMINES THAT UNLAWFUL COPYING OF THIS WORK HAS OCCURRED, THE LIBRARY HAS THE RIGHT TO BLOCK THE I.P. ADDRESS AT WHICH THE UNLAWFUL COPYING APPEARED TO HAVE OCCURRED. THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING THE RIGHTS OF COPYRIGHT OWNERS.


Image
The Minotaur of Hollywood, A Harvey Weinstein Production
by Tara Carreon


Way down in Los Angeles,
That city by the sea
There was a mighty industry
That everybody thought was sweet.

They called it entertainment,
Vaudeville, they made silent pictures,
Publicity stills. They had talent agents,
talent scouts; they made the country laugh
and kept the public out.

Hollywood became its name
A silly sign its claim to fame
It drew foolish girls
Like moths to flame
In a world gone mad
Well, who’s to blame.

The temples of Hollywood are up in the sky
Through the freeway canyons
The limousines fly. They’re loaded
with girls who wanna be stars.
Next stop is the Minotaur.

He’s got several lairs in the Hollywood hills,
Unlike Bill Cosby, he doesn’t use pills,
He more likes to trap,
Then move in for the kill.

Built like a bear, but not as good looking,
The Minotaur’s friends
All say they weren’t watching
When he feasted on virginal,
delicate flesh,
Wiped his mouth on his bathrobe,
And satisfied, left.

Hollywood’s a labyrinth, they say,
Don’t you see? Concierges and bellhops,
doormen and valets, a thousand
hotel rooms, a million blind hallways.
A girl could get lost here
And never be found
Till at last that old Minotaur
Does come around
And asks himself lecherously,
“What have I found?”

So who built this labyrinth,
So secret and safe,
To house this dread predator
Who loves to make waste?
Why did they love this Minotaur more
Than the virginal offerings
Whose flesh the beast tore?
What did he give them
To protect him with lies
To induce still more victims
To please his desires?

Well, the Minotaur, it seems
Is a creature of dreams,
For all one desires is seen in his eyes,
And in that same place
All one’s dreams die.

His evil is cunning;
It moves not a step,
Till all is secure
And the trap has been set
Planning and preparation the keys to his game
You were foolish to trust him, so you’re to blame.

Now they say the Minotaur is dead
The’ve taken off its head
They’ve dragged it behind
an Escalade
Painting Sunset red.

Yes, they’ve got the guards out tonight
Labyrinth’s locked up tight
The Minotaur’s no more
And the Pacific Ocean
Has departed the shore.
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Wed May 16, 2018 9:34 pm

Crete
by Charles Carreon
5/15/18

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Clean laundry
White sheets
White clouds
White moon
Blue sky
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Tue Oct 09, 2018 6:05 am

The Waterfall
by Charles Carreon
October, 2018

NOTICE: THIS WORK MAY BE PROTECTED BY COPYRIGHT

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So many have gone over the edge.
I hear their cries of terror and exultation
As the current sweeps them over the lip,
Their rafts tossing below in the currents.
Some are lost in the first event,
Some battle on downstream,
Shooting rapids,
Splashing through canyons,
Borne on by the waves.
Alone, I remain here in my canoe,
In a lake of pristine freshness,
Within the rainbow veil wreathing the falls.
The pool of the present,
Overflowing, creates the stream of time.
Before it all starts, I remain,
In a place where a goddess could sit
Making presents of flowers and light,
Releasing them in the flow,
To blossom in time.
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Wed Oct 10, 2018 6:29 pm

The Atom
by Charles Carreon
Tucson, October 8, 2018

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Simply consider
that the approximate lifetime
of an atom
is eternity,
barring destruction
in a stellar collapse.
Anything that in its
fundamental parts
is so durable,
in a world of things
constantly decaying,
merits reverence.
Yes, the humble atom,
unnoticed in the day
to day affairs of our
life, goes about, providing
the basis for our
physical existence,
and enjoys a continuity
in time far more persistent
than our own.
Our personalities, alas,
have no claim to identity with even one atom.
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Thu Jun 13, 2019 11:23 pm

I Declare
by Charles Carreon
June 11, 2019

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“I had no need of that hypothesis.”

-– Laplace, on the absence of God from his explanation of the solar system, to Napoleon


”It is the duty of every person to develop their own hypothesis of the nature of their own existence.”

-- Charles Carreon


It is a blank canvas,
our understanding.
A yawning chasm of unmeaning
opes before us
ere we fill it in
with the brush-strokes
of our imagination.
What shapes shall we draw there?
What lineaments accord
the shape of our experience?
A nihilist scrawl
ill serves the opportunity.
To copy what others have written
is naught but a schoolchild’s exercise.
Nothing but our best approximation
of truth is worthy of the moment,
our moment,
the breath of life upon our lips,
the torch of the ancients
in our hands,
the cave wall beckoning,
the earthen paints set out,
magic waiting to be made,
true magic
free of falsehood
free of gain,
a gift back to the universe
that made us from itself,
a declaration in the darkness,
to echo the infinite’s call.
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Thu Jun 13, 2019 11:27 pm

Of What Hypothesis Are You Capable?
by Charles Carreon
June 12, 2019

NOTICE: THIS WORK MAY BE PROTECTED BY COPYRIGHT

YOU ARE REQUIRED TO READ THE COPYRIGHT NOTICE AT THIS LINK BEFORE YOU READ THE FOLLOWING WORK, THAT IS AVAILABLE SOLELY FOR PRIVATE STUDY, SCHOLARSHIP OR RESEARCH PURSUANT TO 17 U.S.C. SECTION 107 AND 108. IN THE EVENT THAT THE LIBRARY DETERMINES THAT UNLAWFUL COPYING OF THIS WORK HAS OCCURRED, THE LIBRARY HAS THE RIGHT TO BLOCK THE I.P. ADDRESS AT WHICH THE UNLAWFUL COPYING APPEARED TO HAVE OCCURRED. THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING THE RIGHTS OF COPYRIGHT OWNERS.


Waste not this moment of freedom
Making wagers against imagined odds
Playing with the figures
of demons and gods
Imagining terrors,
hoping delights
Ignoring the sun and stars
for glimmerings and faery-lights
Arm yourself with experience
and set your intentions on inquiry
Delve into the well of comprehension
draw forth inspired expression
Intuit with all your might
will to draw it all a-right
Shape it to your honest measure
Let its form give you pleasure
A mirror and a glass
To better know and count your treasure,
The treasure of this moment,
This living day,
That only a fool would give away
By making some other time more dear
By turning away from the present in fear.
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Re: Poetry & Songs, by Charles Carreon

Postby admin » Thu Jun 13, 2019 11:32 pm

Kindness, Freedom, Honesty, Courage
by Charles Carreon
June 12, 2019

NOTICE: THIS WORK MAY BE PROTECTED BY COPYRIGHT

YOU ARE REQUIRED TO READ THE COPYRIGHT NOTICE AT THIS LINK BEFORE YOU READ THE FOLLOWING WORK, THAT IS AVAILABLE SOLELY FOR PRIVATE STUDY, SCHOLARSHIP OR RESEARCH PURSUANT TO 17 U.S.C. SECTION 107 AND 108. IN THE EVENT THAT THE LIBRARY DETERMINES THAT UNLAWFUL COPYING OF THIS WORK HAS OCCURRED, THE LIBRARY HAS THE RIGHT TO BLOCK THE I.P. ADDRESS AT WHICH THE UNLAWFUL COPYING APPEARED TO HAVE OCCURRED. THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING THE RIGHTS OF COPYRIGHT OWNERS.


Inner ideals like these
Take expression in heroic forms
That stand against the humbling forces
Of time and things,
That challenge the joy of our spirit
And tax us with sufferings.

So Hercules and Vajrapani
equally serve the imagination
That wishes to strive
Against the heavens
And earth, to show what
Humanity is worth,
To us, to ourselves, we who strive
While alive.

But stories too often told
Make mice of men
Who once were bold
And worship of the ancestors
Weakens the present generation
If it takes not up the challenge
Of its own time

So take your place in this great
procession,
Guide yourself with confidence.
The footsteps of past generations –-
We cannot walk in them
Any more than we can
wear their sandals.
What was past is dust
And the present is upon us.
We cannot wait for Great White Brothers
Saviors, any species of others,
To rescue us from confusion.
To hope otherwise is delusion.
There is no bank of certainty,
All notions are but currency
Built on our own faith and credit.
The face on the dollar is our own
When we need more belief
We give ourselves a loan.

Virtues? Bring them out in yourself;
Don’t beg for them from on high.
To place them out of your reach
Is thriftless and unwise.
Let generosity strengthen your arms,
And kindness fill your eyes.
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