Sunday, April 20, 2008

I want to make up withchoo

Well, Freddie Mercury is dead, but not before addling my mind with something like "Death on Two Legs", which is pretty well the way your feel in the first stages of divorce.
So all right. I walked through it.
But now another nagging song from Queen that I can't get out of my head.
It is insidious.

"I want to make up
I want to make up
I want to make up


Who is beaming this stuff my way?
My ex-wife, realizing that I'd played some riffs on my daugher's guitar, said something like, "You let that rake play your guitar? I hate the man."

Still, I keep hearing the new Queen song.

I want to make up
I want to make up
I want to make up
Wit chyouu

It's sort of a zapped -up piano boogie run, very repetivive, and I can't get the thing out of my head.

I want to make up
I wanna make up
I wanna make u
With you

I haven't touched the guitar for some time, but every time I hear a good riff, I want to get right on the fingerboard and try it out.

It's like watching Jimi Hedrix. You know youll never, ever be that fast, but at least you can imitate the actions of the tiger. Bang on the E chord twice and then go the Lightn' Hopkins way to find that blue note in the middle.
But then Hendrix is all over the fingerboard. About all I would be good at would be something out of his tablature. To wit.

Smashes guitar on amplifier.
Takes Bic lighter out of right-hand tight-pants pocket.
Drops lighter.
Picks up lighter and can of lighter fluid.
Pours lighter fluid over smashed guitar.
Sets this kindling on fire.

Tablature. For something missing in the sheet music
But lord, this is too much information.

I wanna make up
I wanna make up
I wanna make up

Went to Queen's web page but they don't want to part with their lyrics without me signing in.
I want to sing "I want to make up,"

Flick my bick
Crack my spine.
Oh to be John Prine.



Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Tell me I didn't just read JOhn Prine.... if I did you have something in common with my ex-husband. He enjoyed John Prine a lot. But just so you know, that is not a bad thing. He was a good man. It was the one after him that should have shoved off a cliff at 100 miles per hour. Wait! Did I say that? Well then if I did, maybe he should have learned not to hit pregnant women!

Oh sorry ... I let my mouth rant.

Love you madly.... in during a full moon.

T said...

It is the full moon indeed.
Shepherd better watch his flock.
Ivan says faint heart never made it with small animals.

Charles Gramlich said...

How weird. We went to a blues show today and the guy was talking about Lightning hopkins. synchronicity said...


Just when you want to rock and roll, I am in my cups.

Get back to you on that Russian comment two blogs back once I sober up. said...


Lana Gramlich said...

You can probably get the lyrics & the tabulature on, if they're still operating.

Donnetta Lee said...

Love blues. Love jazz. Love rock. Love music. Sound like a child of the 60s.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

In my rant, in my way of spilling out my soul I scream, shout into the wind, HELLO!
But like always, no answer

So here I am once more
Stuck, stuck in traffic and my mind fills itself with words no one hears. I could be her, you know, that woman across the street
She yells at her kids
She yells at her husband
She looks in the mirror and then yells at the unrecognizable face that she sees. Ahh yes, unsatisfied

I could be him, that man that constantly plays his car radio loud
Music I care not to hear
Lend me some of your strings Mr. Barber. A willing student I am, if only you’d let me

Now, let’s settle in
The night is just beginning and I have heard Chris Botti’s sax play Nearness to You and it soothes me

Inside I hear a voice … my voice,
It is waking up from a long rest like a sleeping volcano. I have felt it for years steadily pushing
poking from inside as if to say, “I am ready, now is the time
For you to reach for me over land and red-clay dirt, far across the largest of oceans if only for those
far away moments promised decades long ago when fingertips danced and the world had forgotten how to separate itself from heavens violin.”

Dream for me; write an epic novel about our love affair on hungry white paper with thick coal like lead . Tell the story, begin with a phrase. Explain the “I love you’s” and the” I’s” left unfinished because the passion was too hot for paper made by man.

Beg, plead for open wounds to heal so love can invade, liquefy, and
fill the hungry void that has laid dormant for so long. Whisper, whisper no more for I see you in the most innocent of dreams and the worst of your living nightmares
Take my hand; after all, we have touched more than the sun and the moon.

T said...


Yeah. Great place for guitar tabs. said...


We are children of the '60's.

The arrival of the Sgt. Pepper album, as I recall, was a great moment in history.
And alienation-baroque rock and roll still is the sound today.
We all llve in a yellow submarine said...

The poet is blind?

We hear you, though.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan? said...

Oh gawd.

I think I need some hair of the dog.
Drinking in the afternoon can make you soggy, and hard to light.
What am I doing up? said...

Can't talk.
Just my cartoon feet sticking out of the beer barrel.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

why is the poet blind? said...

Temporary condition.
Can't drive one out of the park today.
What is one doing up?
If I had the stash, I would do up.
(Belch). said...

Full moon fever, Tara.
We both gotta get some sleep..

the walking man said...

The poet is blind'
because the poet sees
and sticks the pencil
in his

It hurts less said...


Marshall McLuhan says if we were aware of all the things going on in the world, we would go mad immediately.