You say goodbye, and I say Hello.

Soundtrack: Wilco / California Stars

The good thing about having spent so long in Hell is that it's proof that there's a Heaven. Hell is a nightmare of sweat and tortured dreams. Hell isn't being wounded, Hell IS the wound, savage and crusted, enclosing the deep and dreary dark and forlorn falsehoods based on what you've believed, what you've projected and what you needed to learn. Hell does not come after death, HELL IS DEATH, an ending, and how clear it dawns upon me now, this death which leads to rebirth and reawakening and a laughter not from the head or heart, but a laughter that giggles and froths and bubbles until it fountains and springs from the soul itself and all life is laid before you and the past is a death you have died but Boyo Boyo from death you live again and he who has not died has not lived, you who have not felt or lost or fallen, cannot know the joy of reawakening, the cinnamon aftertaste of calamity the ice cold reminder that NOW, right fucking NOW, you are alive and you have made it through. Oh yes, it's an orgasm of laughter, it's the view from the top, it's symphony not song and it's older than all time.

Heaven is waking in the morning and knowing that you're alive when all others are walking dead. Heaven is being lost in this place, staring at strangers and friends alike and caring and not caring all at once. Heaven is an emptiness, a void, a beginning, a canvas, a note, no time, all time, this moment and forever. Heaven is watching the forked tongue and greedy hands of those around you and always saying yes, sure, stab and stake my brothers, my loves, stab and stake because none of this is real, none of your money is real so take it all and naked I will laugh at the biggest joke of all, for there's more truth in a grain of insanity than a desert of greed, and the greatest insanity of all is Love and I am mad for you all. Best of all Heaven is the reality, when you've stopped wanting to be someone and just want to be someone special. And as soon as you know that, everything else follows as reward.

********

Ingredients:

Fresh Air
Moodboards
Acoustic guitars
The Sting
A soul
A heart



Of course, it's only a guideline.

The Whispering Track.

My overalls were pulled up to my bosom, showing my orange and black striped socks as I waved the folks on the train goodbye. Bye folks! Bye! I miss you folks! I'm gonna wait right here for ya folks! I'm gonna wave and wave and wave and wave and my arm ain't never gonna get tired 'cause I'm missing on y'all and if I stay right here fo' long enough, I knows y'all gonna be back real soon.

A few hours later and I was still waving, long after the train had flown into the horizon, pressed between the palms of the sky and the earth. My upper lip was curled into a smile dense with hope, and my teeth were chattering as night slunk down to mock my gentle determination.

My arm was tired, but I thought I could bring them train folk back. If I just kept at it. Kept on waving.

I don't know how long it was, the minutes became hours and all them little pricks of light took their turn tittering at my optimism as they danced across the black curtains above me until eventually that Sun rose on up to rebuke and reprimand the night for being so cruel. The morning brought warmth and clouds and birds and together they chased the darkness from me, and held me until I began to grow warm and lazy. My arm fell. Heavy and sore. I was heavy and sore on the inside too, but I hadn't been waving on the inside. Or had I? I dunno.

I could feel my lip begin to tremble, and my eyes got all squinty. I knew they'd be making rivers if I wasn't strong about it. I never knew what was right with that. My mama said it was good to clean out the pipes of the soul, but I read on the papers the other day a man that died and he said, to weep is to lessen the depth of your grief. Good grief, how's a boy supposed to know what's what?

I just stood there, and the memory of the whistle was a sweet melody of farewell.

Sooner or later, I turned from that train, saw the green grass around me and started to laugh and I ran down that hill and I chased that doggy that lives on the corner, near Bob Evan's old Hotel, where my momma and he used to meet do the naughty, hahaha, it's true you know. I don't mind, I liked seeing her so happy. Even if that Bob Evans is a married man.

I'm a married man too you know? Don't look like it. But I'm married to my memories, and my hope, and the way my heart dances for what may be. Huh, now I know I don't look like much of a catch to y'all mayhap, and I've heard the things people say behind my back, about me, being not quite right n' all. But I know things. And I see things that people don't give me credits for. And I can do secret things. I can't teach 'em, but I can do 'em.

Like hearing the sweetest melody hiding inside the whistle of a departing train.

And if the folk on the train don't wave back, well that's just 'cause they've got no time to appreciate, no time to listen with their running off down the track, onwards, gotta hurry, down the line, destiny and all that.

I don't think I've found my destiny yet.

But I don't think it lay down that track.

I think it might be around here somewhere, with my momma's memories and the green grass and trying to make just one person get off that train and spend a little time with a boy in orange and black stripey socks.

Choo! Choo!

Price You Pay.

You gave me all I've ever needed:

Laughter, Love and Fuck 'em.

Some people never got it.

But I always will.

I promise.

x

Message in a bottle.

We walked along the shore
beside the cliffs
and the faces of giants
watched as we strolled by,
their eyes birthing dusty rocks
which tumbled from the walls
and burst on the dry sand below.

Once The Ocean touched this place
I told her
and Once I thought to find you
within it.

But that was a long time ago.

I looked down at her
as she skipped beside me
her bright eyes
darting from cliff to sand
a Salty Sea
of Yellow Dust
which stretched out now
over the Horizon

further even

a golden memorial
littered with debris
dead smells
bone bleached memories
of a Past Life
destined now
to shrivel in a field
of one colour
tears.

Where did it go?
- she asked me

and stopped
we both paused
mid-stride and
imagination and maudlin
memory
conspired with
the cruel and generous sun
to send a deep blue glimmer
across the parched earth
but
that mirage
was short lived
and I
unable to drown
merely walked a few steps
and

(spat?
cried?
sighed?
hurt?
whispered?)

and
called Her
to me

c'mon, darlin'

I want you to see something

and my little angel
ran toward her father's arms
and we embraced

There
on the Ocean's Graveyard

and I pointed away from the Horizon
toward the Evergreen Forest
and said,

it doesn't matter anymore
where The Ocean went

what matters is

I found you
Somewhere Else.

And pointing toward the Forest
I whispered in her neck
Somewhere in There.


Home, she cried!
And turned to dust in my hand
That Future Love
as the Cold Green Water lapped my feet
here in The Present.

Home, I said to myself.

I turned my back on the Sea.
Climbed the cliffs.
 And headed for Home.