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The Right Column

Old Media

old found tapes.

I can listen for a while, but then I want to put it on double speed. Some of it I'd like to never hear again, or even once, so I leave the tapes in their boxes and don't often put one in the tape-player. But when I do it is often surprising that some of the music that I crafted, and recorded back then, isn't totally embarrassing. I just never had the convidence or the resources to focus on the business of music. I was able to make some interesting tracks, fairly well mixed and with a marching joyous bounce of tempo, a happy bubbley orchestration. Then the question was always: ok, so, now what?



Water. 
Deep Water
marble cliff
ancient sunken lagoon     
secret underwater cave
snow fall and scuba tanks      
A trunk full of old Rhodium coins
from the future



When drunkards stand out in a crowd
accousting people for handouts into the late evening
what is a restuarantour supposed to do?
If the vallet's get shouted at
the customers cars bonked on
angry and disgruntled and persistence like a pest too drunk
to know better?

But what if it's the returanateour's cousin
who used to be part owner?




Do you need to find a trunk of rhodium? 
Maybe a trunk of fear the Lord would be better?
Isn't that the plot of Raiders of the Lost Arc?


Please visit my DEMOS

You'd think I'd have morpyhing pages by now? But to read it is hard when the words are all spinning.


this isn't a way                                   
to pass through this prairre town.    
that road, bridge out.                           
the side road, unexpected culvurts                           
washed down and accross the span                            

 he thought                            
I'll drop it into low                          
run through that side field                         
hogs and chickens be damned                               
mud will cover the whole rig                 
Whatever, where ever                      
I'll plow it over                
make some farmer ponder          
why, so cruel and stupid cruel?          
make some farmer ponder          
"Oh, the chuckle-drunk"          
make some farmer ponder          
"why, these mudrunning idiots . . . "          

                         
At dinner                        
the discussion             
on the cost of fencing.                         


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pacific coast highway video frame  video while driving © 2001 copyright  © Copyright © APC 2001,  © Copyright ©  2014 Mt Hood, Oregon.  Video frame  © 2001 copyright  © Copyright © APC 2001,  © Copyright ©  2014 Natick Street, SF, CA .  Video frame  © 2001 copyright  © Copyright © APC 2001,  © Copyright ©  2014

visit my DEMOS

my moonie moon moon moon
is better than the car she is driving really soon
I ride my moon like a motor car
up to the mountain and beyond a star.

zoom zoom, moonie moon.
hoot who?
owl and a loon.

🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 
🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 
🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 
🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 🌛 

July 2, 2014

8:08 A.M.


unexpected phone call
in the early AM
unexpected car trip
sunrise along the distant ridgeline.

All Year

and till the end of time

Celebrate Christ!


Celebrate 
Christ!


🌛 




🌛

the problem with bromlin is that 
he thought he was a rock-star
but he wasn't.
Amatuer hour at the mixing board,
disbaraging capible people.
You shouldn't dance
to music so hatefilled, such jingo crap.
You can't dance,
you shouldn't hop or march or bop to it
and you ought not sing along.
to such jingo crap.

March march march march
not.
march march march march
not
to such jingo crap 
like the crap
you call your ideology.
Your jingo crap is false mythology.

We have all have the jingo crap march song
some how planted deep with in the gong
the sound of someone stricking a very large piece of
        metal in the shape of a platter
and suspended securely.

boinging oing oing oi ing.



In the light of the moon
within the sound of the surf
on a night when it's full
she is talking to him
and the wind has the scent of the ocean
and the fragrance of the petal fall
petals flutter all over
the moonlight and slight wisps of fog
draped along these shores
across the seabirds and the bay
all the way to city of brothers
and the river town alight
with celebration and dancing.






oh mister meanie mean mean mean
why do cruel? What did you mean?

so mean so very mean you mean to love the dream
that seem the scheme of he who deem to seem
that he would love you back but he can't stand the mean.


be that one woman guy.


Please visit my DEMOS


    Praise the Lord!

Praise the Lord!

😇 😈


That manic wind
blows through this garden
knocking over
the potted plants

find
fear of your own bad choices
could bring that giant wave
of self-loathing:
thus inspiration
flutters down through the
sudden sunrays breaking through
like petals falling after the bloom
on an antique street
described famously
in sonnets
to
Praise
the
Lord.

mind spin
in meditation
like a carrosel
of past mistakes
floating by
trying to pray 
away
the self-suicide of loathing
and understand the purpose of
motivation to carry on and do good
for other people.
Love
as a promise
like a mountaintop one reaches 
why can't it be here
on these rolling meadows
like a necklace
or garland a-shine the many houses?

imagine 
important things 
to say
today.
Imagine
the important people
to love.


. . . stick a needle in my eyen . . .
find
realize 
the steel eye holes
need a lace
strung through
to tighten the shoes.
not so easy after twenty brews.

. . . 

lace up my thoughts.
Some of the things I was thinking
weren't helping.
Upset over the weather far away,
news from far over the ocean.

the steel eyes need to be laced up.
The precision
requires individual
attention.

After some time,
the sky having changed by now,
the happy bird sings in the taller branches,
the boots all laced up
time to down the beverage
in the cup.



                
😇 😈
Milton Moonlight © Copyright © 2010,2012, 2013, 2014 © APC ©.

I got nothing more

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