Archive for the ‘Verse’ Category
to show the world i am a gentleman
big pharma saw america/ the dying and the sick/ “we get it now:/ america—/ a place to get rich quick!”// religion saw america/ believing in a lie/ “come join *our* side, america/and fight the other guy!”// the lawyers & the media/ made a little note/ “we see it all. america:/ a place where people vote.”// the internet’s america/ was talking on the phone/ and left me in the library/ writing songs alone// so if you see america/ tell me where to find her/ the blind men found an elephant/ but these guys all are blinder// my living blood, america/ and this, my beating heart/ tell me my america/ has fallen quite apart.
too bad son nee boh no did n’t
watch out for that tree
but i say
it’s O K
bet ter him than me.
get it?—
how ’bout now? :
who says zarathustra is a
better man than me?
friedrich N
I E T
Z S C H E
okay. if that doesn’t do it
for you, you’re too young.
I M I N U R U
O Y O Y O Y
I M I
U R U
Y O Y O Y.
see you next week.
a kid with a hammer thinks
everything looks like a nail
when you most need to succeed
that’s when you’ll fail
then when you knead the dough
the check’s in the mail
so you can’t raise the bail
and you rot in jail
if you give just a little
they want a lot
then they’ll be back for stuff
you ain’t even got
you get to the end of the page
and make a big ink-blot
right when a thing gets ripe
it starts to rot
(
you do what they told you to do
to get through but ya don’t
you get er alone an yr hopin she will
but she won’t
just when you think you can’t lose
you find you can’t win
just when you think you’re out
they pull ya back in
)
i don’t know the name of the tune,
so here it is in one-string code.
0 0 E 9 7 5
E E 9 7 5 4
9 9 7 5 4 2
2 4 4 5 7
.
the bold-face means “+12”, btw.
of course i’m not going to try to render
the three-string “tabs” into HTML.
but they’ve been there the longest.
the single-string arrangement typed out
above, & found at the bottom of the page,
came quite bit later. the lyrics were
in-between. anyhow. what i *haven’t*
done here… but have recently *taken*
to doing… is to put in the “fingering”.
as you can kind of see in this post
from earlier today, the notation here
is {o, i, m, a} for “open”, “index”,
“middle”, and “annular” (i.e. “ring”).
it meant something else when i learned it
from a pro guitar teacher but never mind.
it works if you work it.
the whole thing.
annotated contents
10/22/16 now with less spam: blue car, blue car (1998):
eleven “pushkin sonnets” of “auto”-biography. ran as installments
in _the_ten_page_news_. my longest verse effort by quite a ways.
06/24/19 “editorial”: if we had time enough, and money…
(andrew marvell take-off from _indy_unleashed_
[#9—spring ’99]).
06/25/19 essay on criticism: (1998)
alexander pope take-off. with zines.
forgiveness can be less divine than vain/
we shouldn’t err by being too humane.
05/26/20 …my favorite things: photo of shelves (comics etc.).
05/26/20 detail: close-up of previous setting.
(original art; bloomington zine; more.)
06/12/20 jung never did this: six-color i-ching.
(ten-year old “microzine” hand-colored.)
06/20/20 the abyss looks back: photo of me & shelves.
announcing 10pp/10y (the ten page ten-yearly).
06/22/20 the same old thing: a-four-hat four ways.
“an entire course in group theory
summarized on one page”.
07/29/20 the real is at war with the virtual: yesterday’s news.
this one is a little longer.
clerihews for the clerisy (~1999?)
alexander grothendiek
cleared his throat-to-speak.
his audience?—one in a million:
he was talking brazilian.
john ewing
knows what he’s doing.
you and i
will find out by-and-bay.
j.~p.~serre
does not play fair
i refuse to compete with a geek
who could write th’ cours d’arithmetic.
andrew wiles
can see for miles.
what fermat claimed to know.
wiles was able (finally!) to show.
[this one’s unfair to its subject.
sir humphrey davy probably never
detested gravy, though. so there.
the second line got rewritten.
]
hyman bass
can [go eat grass]
the maths were quite sound
but now he wants to push people around.
if you give just a little
they want a lot
then they’ll be back
for stuff you ain’t even got
however you want it to be
that’s how it’s not
right when a thing gets ripe
it begins to rot
a kid with a hammer thinks
everything looks like a nail
right when you need to succeed
that’s when you’ll fail
when you most knead the dough
your check’s in the mail
then you can’t raise the bail
so you rot in jail
when you’re about to knock
your opponent has gin
then when you go to lie down
the bed starts to spin
just when you think you can’t lose
you find you can’t win
just when you think you’re out
they pull ya back in
i’ll be here all week.
The world is ours
Not the presidents’
Of the corporations
For the one-percents
We all want freedom
Let’s go and get some
This world belongs to you and me
This world ain’t their world
This world is our world
And it’s a hot and cold world
A sweet and sour world
It’s the world we share, boy
Only one that’s there, girl
This world belongs to you and me
This world is our world
This world ain’t their world
Cause it’s a life-is-good world
Not an I-don’t-care world
And before we know, dear
We’ll have to leave here
But this world belongs to you and me
As I was working
With my friend Woody
He became immortal
And I asked how could he
His voice was ringin’
Said “keep on singin’ ”
This world belongs to you and me
(first pubbed at vlorblog)
I’ve stuffed my Shelf with loads of learned Lumber,
Like Kant, and can’t let sleeping dogmas slumber.
“A little Learning is a dangerous Thing”?
Not so! A cat can look upon a King.
If Indy Ana Jones has not the means—
Nor Wit nor Art—to be the Pope of zines,
The best that I can do will have to serve
And others must decide what I deserve.
Mike Gunderloy, in nineteen-eighty-two,
Decided he’d begin a Zine Review.
*And even now, in nineteen-ninety-eight,
*His Factsheet 5 is still around, still great
*(Though, Some would say, collapsing from its Weight).
They usually find something nice to say,
Or don’t condemn things outright, anyway.
Doug Holland‘s Zine World follows no such Rule;
Indeed, they’ve been accused of being cruel.
In my Opinion, Critics shouldn’t shrink
From telling Readers what they really think:
Forgiveness can be less Divine than Vain;
We shouldn’t err by being too Humane.
I’ve often Thought (but never well Expressed)
That this is so. Yet Action is the test.
And, as for That, quite frequently I find
It’s easier to be a Bit too kind.
So even if I think a Zine’s no good,
I’ll seldom say so clearly, as I should.
I haven’t got the Nerve for Zine World‘s Style
(Although, one time, I did call Pop Smear “vile”).
*The Reasons why aren’t very hard to see:
*I’d like to keep on getting Zines for free
*And do as I’d have Others do to me.
Since Everyone knows Everyone (the World of Zines is small),
And Nature‘s major Masterpiece is being there at all,
I must confess, quite frequently I’ve tried
To keep from hurting anybody’s Pride.
Here, in any Case, are some Reviews.
I hope you like ’em. Read The Ten Page News.
If we had time enough, and money,
This life of ours would just look funny.
We’d sit and plan each ample day:
How much to work, and when to play,
And who to talk with, what to see,
And where to spend eternity,
And which immortal works of art
To study till we’d learned by heart.
Then I could take, if i should choose
Ten years to make each Ten Page News.
But on my back a monkey hollers,
And nothing shuts him up, but dollars.
And so, I spend my too-short hours
In serving vast and unseen powers.
A job’s a grave and solemn duty;
Our need for cash outranks mere beauty.
Now, therefore, let us, while we might,
Unleash our zines, however slight.
The main thing is to get it made
So we’ll have something new to trade
And, if we never get it done
Quite right, still we’ll have had some fun.
Here we go again
It’s another phony friend
Pretending that they’re oh so glad
They’ve found ya
Until you can escape
It’s emotional rape
You haven’t got a chance
When they’re all around ya
And they always seem to know
Right where to find me
And start right in
To own me or define me
I will somehow make ’em see
That that can never be
Get Away From Me With Your Lies
GAFMWYL Mister Salesman
GAFMWYL You flirt, you tease
GAFMWYL You politician
Get away from me you dread disease
Pretty please
Get away from me
With your phony sympathy
I can see what you want
In your eyes
All you want from me
Is that I should agree
That I’m the kind of guy
You should despise
But you really oughta pick
A better victim
Some sucker who won’t even know
You’ve picked him
I will somehow make you see
That your victim can’t be me
So get away from me
With your lies
Posted by r. r. vlorbik at 2:18 PM
(last year’s model.)
the livingston review 