BLESSED JULIAN PEERS OVER THE EDGE OF THE WORLD

BLESSED JULIAN PEERS OVER THE EDGE OF THE WORLD  

lumens awake to flicker & glow
storms & worst case scenario
a lesson of lamps & circus flint
the oil of your life…may it n’er be spent

what’s dispersed, illumined, hidden & shown
wave and wind invisible code
tarnished compass shot & every map you brought
worn & weathered creed dissolved like salt

Ending arrives with her sails all torn
cargo long ago thrown overboard
capsized nomenclature, harbored griefs
coral like thorns a crown beneath

and me? now, debonair and skinned
hanging on by salty filament
holding breath through trough of pulse & swell
by the lantern of all shall be most well
by the lantern of all shall be most well

                                                        ~ bill mallonee

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Thoughts on Jack Kerouac’s “The Railroad Earth”

I was reading Kerouac’s “The Railroad Earth” today.
Love it. Just that ragged-glorious-introspection of his, full of beatific yearning. 

A couple years back, I wrote an entire album of songs based around many of his books. “Ti Jean” ~Hearts Crossing The Center-Line~ was that collection of Kerouac inspired songs. You can peruse, listen and/or purchase at: http://billmalloneemusic.bandcamp.com/album/ti-jean-hearts-crossing-the-center-line-songs-inspired-by-the-writings-of-jack-kerouac
Above all, enjoy…
bill

SO: Here’s the start of a new piece which I hope to develop more later:

“What you have here is your “Moments” dissected. The “It” you seek here all shows up as suggestion, as curiosity, as hunch-intuitive. You learn to revel in the tenderness of a breath given, drawn, sent forth. It was never your own.

My own some 22 road-years as a song-writer stretch out before me. 
A bit like a stain, an idiocy, a joy. 
Making songs. Gift. What a wonderful thing.
God be thanked.

The road past:

On most days I can hardly remember much of it. The blur of it and the mundane cadences of waking, driving, sound-checking, playing, packing and perhaps a meal and drink all melds onto one smudged chalkboard of non-permanence.
It lives inside, i suppose, as nuances, snap-shot impressions. 
Sometimes, I find i am “allowed” to spin these into the precious metal of memory & recall. I place them in a cold vault called: “This Is How It Was.”
I even filigree them with a gold-leaf of fondness.

Even though I’m sure much of it was as hard and as bitter as broken glass. 

Friends. Surround yourself with them. Recognize their light. Warm yourself with it. And put back in to their lives.
You need them, and they, you.
Their burdens are likely as hard as your own. 
And they take off the sharp edges of life so we don’t hurt ourselves. 
S’what i think.
A learning curve. All part of the game.”
~bill mallonee