Songs of Heart and Mind

[Tara Carreon]

I Start to Live
by Tara Carreon

There’s a lot of controversy over
Coffee & cigars
The Master Game
Neon light
That’s what I say
To be effective whisper light
Or I’m going to have to pay for it
What people don’t realize
Is the night-time kiss
Jimmy Swaggart
Bitter Collette
100% pure hustle
We’ll never be the same again
I’m going to tell a story
Does it ever bother you
That I’m not a man?
Did you ever see a traffic jam?
You try & keep on pushing through
You can’t panic
This is a property case
An explosion behind my eyes
I am gentle, but assimilation is not my thing
I want to kiss a girl
The female warrior is everywhere depicted
I was weaned of it
To have a soft heart
I read this novel
Re-reading the past
A vicarious blade
A kettle of fish
Now what has that given us?
A dog running loose
Snow fries
Time to put down the gun
Nature didn’t give us a gun, but ears
I am not published in one country
But seek communication in another
The wild life kiss.

[Tara Carreon]

Decry Death, by Tara Carreon

http://www.naderlibrary.com/tara.decrydeath3.wmv

Decry Death

Death … I’ve always said it is dangerous
Lord of the test tube
Lord of the belly
He said he was going to be my friend
The source of all wisdom and happiness
“Life is enhanced by Death”
“Death must be so, or else the universe couldn’t exist”
“Death is necessary,” people say, repeating the Devil’s dogma
Love Death & hate life
I want another universe to live in

Get away from me, demon!
Evil incarnate
And killing, its friend
Reincarnation it’s buddy
The opposite of love
The stoop on the step
I wanted to get rid of it
It’s tragedy
It’s black moor
So abusive
Abominable snowman
Evil malignant force
Hole in the universe
Taking loved ones away from you forever
Black, foul vapor
Spoiler of centuries
I couldn’t get a deal
Like he’s some King I should bow down & worship
Darkness over heaven
A young man’s burden
A bullet in the head
Death is not cool
But a maudlin business
Robespierre
Afghanistan
Who could love death?
People admit to disliking lesser things
Broken love
A cheat, a lie
But big things like Death they ignore

I’ll never be Death’s friend
I curse the day he was born
I would project a missile from out of my heart
With power enough to blow him apart
A big, black, hulking thing
The darkest thing in the universe
Containing the essence of death to take Death down
On contact, Death would explode like a star gone nova
The last death

We’ll hold no funeral for Death
No more black caskets
Or holes in the ground
Crematoria covering for brutal murder
The death industry collapsed
Mortuaries out of business
War a thing of the past
No more crying
Sad poetry & songs
Freed from the oppression of Time
The sun can continue to come up and go down every day
But a sun that does not die
In another kind of nature
A universe purged of Death

Other powerful visualizations to take down death:

A razor-like wind cutting him to pieces
Showers of meteors pounding him to oblivion
Forks of wild lightning electrocuting him into nothingness
Poisonous substances stealing his life away
Sharp blades cutting his aorta
Unbearable clouds of dancing fire burning him
An infinite number of hammers shattering his head
A blazing wheel slicing him
Oceans of blood to drown him in
Heaps of bones to bury him in
Masses of brains and fat to dissolve him in
The brilliant ferocity of a hundred thousand suns to purify him

Then fill all the space with Life so there is no place for Death to be

[Tara Carreon]

Subterranean Meltdown, by Tara Carreon

http://www.naderlibrary.com/tara.subterranean2.wmv

SUBTERRANEAN MELTDOWN
by Tara Carreon

(For Norman Spinrad)

Are you going to tell me how another chip of credit bought you
Erotic delight
A Sufi smile
Death's gorgeous bones
He just sat there
Melancholy riders
A boat stuffed with ostriches
The future open
You could be beyond that lily glamoured smile
Everything that I love in the land of Talmod and Sod
The body is a flowing place
Almeida of the Cloves
Supersheen clothes
Tarot for the rising
What was that shouting about anyhow?
Stop giving me these death visualizations!
Lemon yellow pepper tree
I don't need to emphasize your penis
People matched up the etheric music
What is it with you, me?
Tatters in fragments
Strengthening on strengthening, over and over
On a suicide cloud
Pretty expensive
Diamond cover
Chop chop chop mashed potatoes time
A sea of filgree
You know what I'm saying
Tyromachtor was a bodyguard serpent
God is after all a figment of your imagination
In agony the poor lamented demented
Set sail in the eastern sea
But true to her enamoured genius
She got sick, the Venus Carolyn
Then she asked this life-giving person clothed in fire
And she fell through the clouds
Crystal purity fire with a vengeance
She only appears in the mirror of no thought
I'll make my mind a perfect mirror for her
Couldn't stand the beat of a subterranean meltdown
The mangled fish
For without clarity we are nothing
Last season left girls about ten years of age.

[Tara Carreon]

Thanks, Cop, Can I Go Now?, by Tara Carreon

http://www.naderlibrary.com/tara.thankacop.wmv


You drive? I mean, a car? Then you see bumperstickers, right? Like, "Thank a Cop"

You ever ask yourself where these bumperstickers come from?

You got a telephone, right? And you’ve gotten calls from the Police Protective Asssociation, right? Yeah, they’re the ones who move this product. Of course, you can probably pick up one of them at any cop shop… Did it ever occur to you that it might be a good way to protect yourself from getting a traffic ticket? It didn’t? That’s why you’re a chump.

People buy these bumperstickers so they can drive around knowing they are allied with authority. And safe. They're more afraid than anything. It's like paying protection money. "I'm on your side, now just leave me alone."

But thank cops? For what?

For the fact that they bungle every major investigation, and always let the really, really bad guys go free?

For the fact that they browbeat witnesses, provide the cover story for the State's conspiracy du jour?

There's a billboard in town that claims there’s a direct correlation between the number of cops going down and crime going up. Oh fuck yeah! How could that be true, when cops cause trouble wherever they go, and piss people off with their intrusive behavior? There is no science behind this contention! The truth is very likely that where there are fewer cops, there are fewer arrests, hence fewer Quote-Unquote “CRIMES!”

Obviously, there are some nice cops, and thank god for them. But bad cops, they are I’m afraid, the ones most of us encounter, while the bad ones continue to roll along and determine which evidence to put forward and which to destroy.

I know this is a TABOO subject, like all political topics. We get along as long as we keep our mouths shut. Free speech is way too dangerous. But if you're against free speech, then move to Russia!

In L.A. during the Rodney King riots -- I was camped out at the federal building in West L.A. during the carnage -- all 50 of the persons who ended up getting shot were shot by cops. There were eyewitness accounts on local radio station KPFK of cops seen, stepping out of unmarked cars, firing randomly, getting back in and taking off! Of course, if you think the LAPD are good people, don’t listen to me!

I've been fixated lately on this totally out of date topic. The death of Robert F. Kennedy. Takes you back, You remember him? He was the brother of JFK. Oliver Stone hasn’t done a movie about RFK, but maybe eventually he will.

Why the hell am I worried about Bobbie, as he was known to such celebrities as Caesar Chavez and Joan Baez? It’s all due to Casa Video, where I rented an investigative documentary by Shane O'Sullivan called RFK Must Die: The Assassination of Bobby Kennedy, first of all, because Bobby Kennedy looks just like my dad, and secondly, because Sirhan Sirhan (why did he have mirror names?) was a Rosicrucian.

You’re all like, “What’s a Rosicrucian?”

Now just slow down your beer-slurping for a second. I got news for you. Hitler and his gang were Rosicrucians. Rosicrucian means “Rose-Cross,” and oooooooh – bite down hard – I strongly suspect they are the real troublemakers in the world.

Yeah like now you’re checkin’ out. This bitch is fuckin’ crazy, but I can tie this together. Remember, I’m talking about the RFK assassination. Do you know shit? Do you know who killed RFK? Do YOU Fuckin’ know? You don’t, do you? You have no idea….

Okay, I’ll tell you. The man who is serving a life sentence for killing RFK is “Sirhan Sirhan.” Yep, a man with a first and last name that are one and the same. No, he’s not dead yet, like your brain.

According to the California justice system, “Sirhan Sirhan,” a Palestinian Christian raised in Pasadena, conceived the idea of killing RFK because, yes, RFK was an Israel-supporter. RFK had said he was going to give Israel some jets, like killer machines with lethal eggs to lay amongst the A-rabs. This detonated in Sirhan Sirhan’s mind with lethal force. Yep, we got documentary evidence. Sirhan Sirhan conveniently had a newspaper clipping bitching about RFC’s promise to give Israel some nasty silver warbirds in his pocket when he was arrested. That’s good evidence if you’re a prosecutor. Worked good.

Strangely enough, Sirhan Sirhan might not have been the killer. There was one woman – her name was Sandra Serrano. She was sitting outside the Embassy ballroom, where RFK was shot to death, on the fire escape, when two people ran by her, shouting "We killed him, we killed him." One woman had on a polka-dot dress. She asked “Who did you kill?” They answered, “We killed the Senator!”

Sandra Serrano stuck to her story until the police had had enough of her truth-telling. Then they sent a big goon cop named Hank Hernandez to interrogate her and get her to retract her statement. I loved his technique. It was all about outrage. "How dare you do this to the Kennedys? I love this man, and you're shaming him." It's exactly the tactic they took towards all of us who believe that 9/11 was an inside job. "How dare you do this to the dead?!" They said the same thing at Katrina. "Stop sticking your nose into that dirty business, don't you have any respect for the dead?”

Yeah, kill another politician for me to respect. But make him a Republican this time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Tara Carreon]

Hand on Oblivion, by Tara Carreon

http://www.naderlibrary.com/tara.oblivion.wmv

Hand on Oblivion
by Tara Carreon

Beyond the mereological and teleological
Take me off the Zodiacal reference of life
The sage was right
Each of us partakes in our Paracelsus
He's an elephant at dawn
He hath already stolen the body
A scandal is no money left
A rock is in the water of the lake
If there is one
The true word is extradition
The many-colored newspaper
To launch a thousand ships
My dad was a royalist
And gave up the butterfly
To come back and watch, what?
Another Mexican push Chinese food?
Rough me up with government scorn
Holy monopoly
Anger that is nothing
Goat hairs
So you won't dream of matter
Illegal tie-dye
Rabbit breath
Mephistopheles

[Tara Carreon]

The Flowers Appreciate Timothy Speed Levitch, by Tara Carreon

http://www.naderlibrary.com/tara.flowersappreciatelevitch.wmv

[Tara Carreon]

The American Anger Museum
by Tara Carreon

It would take an act of thinking
Without it, I thought,
Let no man here think I am not his enemy
You want to assert your dominance over me
When different colors swirl up and are lost
Your sexuality dis-gusts me
The violence
The rage
Take your people apart on someone else's territory
Flayed human skins hanging from trees
The endless parade of sailors' drunken vomit washing over the seas
Let's hang you up in a tree
Eyeballs bulging
Tongue protruding
Body slack
Harassed by a swarm of bees
Give the torturer his torture
Freeze him
Blind him
Cut his limbs
In a magnesium and paper house
Set ablaze in merely an absurd way
Obviously, none of this is real
So don't blame me!
Would you legislate free thought?
And confuse the story with what's real?
You motherfucker
Go to hell!
I hate your sadism and torture

[Tara Carreon]

A Face in the Mirror
By Tara Carreon

Without makeup I was perhaps the most subversive person in the world
Stupendous occupation
A special wondrousness
I find it flattering
Because she was designed to stand up by herself
Foundations being met
I'm not going to deny it
The people existed
I reject the black hole thesis
Life is always manifesting
All self-existing forms are true to form
I know it's real because I can feel it between my fingers
and touch it in the air
I was a mormon, but didn't believe
I prayed the deities then walked away
I don't want something mechanical inside me
Rattling & clanky
But a child born from within
A person has got to release their own power
Embrace thyself, outside in
I'm leisurely, independent
Here to do an investigation
United nations
To read of their contentment on earth
Some people throw the I-Ching
Some people read the tarot
I just ask myself, "What is the answer?"
She was swinging down the street from a giant holy man
Tracing the pattern of frogs
That came from the other shore
A song for the cats at the gas station across the street
Drink a cocktail to it
Toast your reality in the alternating sea

[Tara Carreon]

I just came up with my first New Year's resolution. I'm going to pretend that Christmas isn't going to happen this year. I don't see any Christmas lights -- those are lights from the aurora borealis, and fireflies invading the neighborhood. So I can stop thinking how I'll abuse Christians by saying or doing something nasty. Like pointing out how idiotically boring this whole Christmas thing is: the little plastic Santas, the blow-up monstrosities in the front yards, collapsed with pathetic death, not to mention the idiocy of the religion. See, I just couldn't help myself! Instead, it's just going to be a short-dayed, cold, bleak winter, with the wind blowing over the desert, bringing slight smells of creosote, and the sharp wetness of winter rain. It's a hundred years ago, when not much was going on in Tucson, Arizona, and they certainly didn't have unlimited amounts of electricity and KMarts and Walmarts to buy all kinds of cheap, gaudy shit from China and paste it all over their house. Is it racist for me to say that I hate Chinese decor? Those unremitting primary colors. It's enough to make one go insane. And they even make prayer wheels out of them. Let me rest, for a moment, in the vision of a beautiful INDIAN brocade. Neutopia, if you can get some of that, that's worth bringing back. Just find something to do with it!

But my New Years resolution, after a tiny, mini nervous breakdown tonight -- it only lasted a couple of seconds -- when I put an end to that shit! And came up with my resolution: I will never think of my own pain again (and I pray to the interdimensional beings of bodhisattva will that they will protect me in this), but I can think of OTHER PEOPLE'S pain as a way of sobering me to the reality of this world of suffering, and reminding me of the work I need to do, as in REAL work, not imaginary work. Just thought I'd share that.

Let's Burn Santa in Effigy, by Lofinikita

Let's burn Santa in effigy
String him up in front of the house
Let's burn Santa in effigy
Ya know he's just a louse
Light his big boots right on fire
Soak his beard with gasoline
You know he can't feel a thing
'Cause he's just a corporate clone.
Like I'm for sure going to believe
He's got Elves and reindeer and a sleigh
When NORAD reports him homing in
On millions of houses in big red trousers
Let's burn Santa in effigy
It's the cathartic thing to do
'Cause you got no money
'Cause he's red and white and you're blue

[Tara Carreon]

A Christmas Prayer
by Tara Carreon

Ah, that thing we're not supposed to do
Be aware of other people's pain
I'm not going there
Put if off for another day
And another, and another
Until I see a homeless, black woman struggling with ten plastic bags,
Full of necessities, or garbage transformed into things?
That look of pain on her face
I can't get away from people's suffering for long
It takes the bravest person in the world to look at the world's pain
But for now, it lies over the horizon
Way over in Afghanistan
People are screaming in agony
A baby died from poison gas
Family members have been bombed to pieces
Heads decapitated, like Pat Tillman's
Burns, lost limbs, blindness
Everyone in your family is dead, except for you
And you've got nothing
And all you want to do is die
You can't even get up to go get some water, and you are completely parched
If only you could just sit here and die
Now multiply that poor person 1 billion times -- 6 billion times
Everyone has their own sadness
Because the world is run by monsters
And few have the guts to try and stop them
People are confused in their ideology
And cowards almost all
Show me the person who doesn't want to be liked
And I'll show you a hero
An individual, not a collective
Someone who can speak the truth
Without fear of losing their ground, the earth under their feet
Go up to a Big Guy and push him back
The world is wailing
At least the economy has the decency to collapse at this time of great suffering
I pray that the world will never find its way back up until every human being is brought up with it
Until then, let EVERYONE suffer.