Some words placed together evoke a myriad of ideas. This is for you that want to know what the lyrics mean:
Zipperhead
gather all the sacred songs
for out of body release
(old and cherished music is played at funerals for the souls of the dead) wrap them all in cotton gauze
in twenty seven degrees
(the songs are aching and fragile and appropriate for the dead of winter)
oh my darling
(what a friend will say to the grieving spouse, when there is nothing left to say)
brave the wind with Capricorn
(imagining the huddled mourners at a January interment)
follow orders for free
what we do when we have nothing left and surrender to religion, the truth etc.)
bow your head and raise your eyes
(literally what you see in the crowd during a funeral prayer, also referring to the defiance we attempt to mount against our own similar fates) see the man on the tree
(look at the crucifix , ie be a witness to suffering; and a reference to the scene in Amarcord which mocks our pathos)
oh my darling
dry the tears hemp mourning cloth
(a Japanese garment for mourning and a reference to using substances to lighten the weight of the moment)
pastry cart on the scene
(the necessity of bringing back the corporal at the end of a funeral, reminding us that we are still among the living. also referring to the attempts to lighten what feels so heavy at the moment, or not so heavy to others)
seven angels coming now
could it all be a dream
(refers to the mourner’s fantasy of the apocalypse and desire for an after life)
This is a data dump of Palimpstar, and some of this material will be used in the video, which goes into production next month.
Everybody wants to jump a little higher.
Split your skull, and put your brain into the fire.
Tumble all around like a baby in a dryer.
Your rose is a rosebud; it’s a radio flyer.
Everybody wants to be the new Svengali;
Entice you with his voice,
Like a moving Turkish belly.
Listen to the voice that’s coming from the mountain
Rushing over waterfalls, and sprouting out a fountain…
When you lay, you lie.
When you move,
the movement…
Is you.
Everybody wants to jump a little higher…
Rushing down a water fall
and sprouting out a fountain…
This jewel from my archive of demos needs some polish. i have written many more songs than i have used, and this is one that was languishing, so i put it up here now for fresh air. The lyrics are based on a poem by Mario Benedetti. I recorded this live and added some harmonies. This is a sketch of a song about our struggle for humanity. The jagged rhythms come from Bartok and The Clash.
yo apoyo y participo en el sexo desnudo.
en un encuentro me desmaye y me nacio una hija.
como artista nunca fui protagonista,
pero de la cama salio la jamas.
y me converti en balsero.
y ademas,
busco dinero…
o por lo menos:
atencion.
soy cubano!!!
Merce divulges: Two… One to screw it in, and one not 2.
John: —silence— and then laughter.
On September 5th 1982, i attended a concert of John Cage’s music in celebration of his seventieth birthday. It took place at St. Marks Church, and this is my recollection of that evening.
Certeza del exiliado
En cada ola de mar
se aleja algo mio,
pero se que lo lleva
a tus orillas.
A Refugee’s Certainty
With every wave
a part of me drifts away,
but I know that it will
be brought to your shores.
_______________________
Paisaje de la soledad
Reposan en mi sangre
tus recuerdos,
hechos de soledad y viento,
bajo una luna roja,
sin estrellas,
resbalando en ritmo
del silencio.
Solitary Landscape
Your memories repose in
my veins,
made of solitude and wind,
under a reddish moon,
without stars,
flowing in the rhythm of silence.
_________________________
Siempre pensando en ti
Marinero en el alba
de tu esencia
por el mar infeliz
de mis palabras.
Caminante sin huellas
en la arena,
por la ruta espiral
de la memoria.
Always thinking of you
Sailing in the dawn of your
essence through the unfaithful
sea of my words.
Wandering without footprints
in the sand,
on memory’s spiralling lane.
Poems by Julio Enrique Hernandez-Miyares
Translations by Dennis Aberle
Street Fair By Alex Itin (Photo by jhm)
i had a wonderful encounter last night with two artists; alex itin, and aakash nihalani. alex documented the unbearable slipstream of being there.
