Murakami's Theory of Relativity

More Chatsubo Era poetry / lyrics [12-15-2000]. I  forgot I wrote this... I just checked and it was never published in the ACC... Found it in a recovered lyrics folder... I suppose this means I should try to put it to music.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Murakami's Theory of Relativity

Open circuit

state of mind

closed circuit

state is blind

open circuit

land of possibility

closed circuit

land of slavery

nation

relation

station

mutation

indication

infestation

salvation

declaration

Open circuit

state of mind

closed circuit

you are blind

open circuit

land of infinity

closed circuit

land of ubiquity

superstition

coalition

munition

ambition

sedition

emission

attrition

perdition

open circuit

state of mind

closed circuit

we are blind

open circuit

land of possibility

closed circuit

land of slavery

Darkness Falls

Another something from the Chatsubo Era  Dated September 15, 2000. I had forgotten I had written this... rescued from a "blown up" hard drive. It seems to be related to the poem "designer's model" which was written a few weeks earlier.

*************************


Darkness
falls softly.
Her body
sliding to the floor
With such grace
One might
Believe
She
Died every day.

Later.
Tommorrow does not know
Darkness.
Thief.
He breaks in
'Partment
Of the Rich and Useless
To steal what he can
He finds her
wrist slashed
Blood ooze
Surrounds her body
Crimson halo'd.

Eyes wide.
He does not know
what to do.
Sweet death
embraces her
But he cannot
let her go
He takes her body
to a jimmi'd
clinic d-mod

she wakes alone
bandaged
memories fractured
she does not remember
why
who
where

she gazes at her surroundings
a Mot'l 68 on the Old Interstate
she finds nothing
but clothes
that fit too losely
and memories
which do not fit
at all

yesterday is hunting
darkness
a knife was not enough
for the thousanth
time:
should have waited
for her to die

light called darkness
ring
answered.
a stranger.
police.
they're looking.

today does not care
about
yesterday
nor tomorrow
he only wants now
But now is not interested.
now has never been interested
in today
now wants anything but today

Store Window Reality

I just posted a remastered MP3 file of this over HERE. So here are the lyrics.



Store Window Reality

Lookin' into empty store windows

walkin' down a deserted street

waitin' for a sunrise that'll never arrive

listenin' to your empty heart beat

     The truth cuts to the bone

     When you realize you're alone

you know it isn't real

cause you can touch it

and there's nothin' to feel

seekin' the usual suspects

tellin' all the familiar lies

makin' the same old excuses

turnin' away from their empty eyes

     The truth cuts to the bone

     but now you're bleeding alone

you know they weren't real

cause you could touch them

and there was nothing to feel

runnin' the virtual defenses

crushin' the same old ICE

hopin' for a perfect solution

fallin' for the same old vice

     The truth cuts to the bone

     yet you say you want to be alone

and you know she wasn't real

cause you could touch her

and there was nothin' to feel

Lookin' into empty store windows

walkin' down a deserted street

waitin' for a sunrise that'll never arrive

listenin' to your empty heart beat

     The truth cuts to the bone

     When you realize you're alone

you know it isn't real

cause you can touch it

and there's nothin' to feel

paperclip equivalent

something from the USENET / Chatsubo Era-- september 2000

Seems kind of relevance with the tinkering I've been doing with "travesty like" programs.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

video space
blares
projected messages:

a clean mind is a terrible thing 
left unwasted
this is your mind 
on scrambled eggs

wipe away troubles
dispose of truely bad hours
use ISO-nepenthe insanitary wipes
the napkins of choice
used 
by the serially dimensionless
to give new meaning 
to words
and new reason 
to the functionally clueless

a white noise sky 
filled timed sequence
ashes of memories 
clogging 
eyes with tears

disconcerting
feeling
the escalator of progress
unmoving 
fixed in place
motion arrested 
by yesterday's belief

asked for love
could not find it
not on aisle 17 
where they stock
pre-packaged remedies

drifting 
truth precluded
information 
mechanics. 
large bore at range
fired
upon a hunter's arc

dead
immediately 
dark internal
matters 
explode 

the holes
left unfilled
by composite 
material displacement
fill with system coolant
system shut down sequence:
engage

death?
this is death?
subconscious 
condensate occurs
collapsing non-event
observationally
nearly absolute 
notational
zeroness
mass misdirection time
time misdirection mass
sequence mismatch
shut down halted

information free
contextless
data mote
floating upon a wireframe
notion

MAKE MILLIONS!
create 
paperclip / staple
intellectual property
analogue

property?
i possess properties?
all objectionable materials 
do

Not?
not
objectionable

spring works
wind down
jeweled
precision
swiss movement
most famous 
mercenaries

within 
a conceptual framework
never a random
thought

language is the paperclip of conceptual space

The Game of Love

This was written in the mid 1980's [like yesterday's entry] for a someone who was a friend who I wanted to get to know better... It never happened... worse things did.

You play the hand you are dealt... then read 'em and weep... or if you are lucky collect the pot and cash out while you luck holds.

This was conceived of as a "fifties Jerry Lee Lewis  / Elvis Presley" kinda track.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

The Game of Love

Heart break is an easy game to play
just close you eyes and hope slips away
Still I'd like to know your name
And just how to play the game

CHORUS:
The Game of Love…DIT DAH,DAH DO DAH DAH
The Game of Love…DIT DAH,DAH DO DAH DAH
the Game of Love… DIT DAH,DAH DO DAH DAH
Playin' The Game of Love

I've seen you wandrin' round here
Didn't believe you'd let me near
I know you you got a high class name
But I think we can win the game

CHORUS

BRIDGE:
Don't you know every day of livin' is a chance
To make your play at making serious romance
and every moment is a mome passin' you by
so why don't you give it a try

CHORUS

So there you stand so near
Look in my eyes Ya got nothing to fear
If you run there's no one else too blame
So Ain't it time to begin the game?

CHORUS

Some Dreams

A long time ago [decades!],  in a parallel universe there was someone that I knew that I wanted to know better...but for one reason or another I could not "ring her bell".  She went one way and I went another. And soon I fell into darkness.

I sometimes compare then and now... both in sorrow and in relief. Maybe it was better that we did not rescue one another from our chosen dooms...


Some Dreams

Well I guess some dream's
Are meant to come true
While other dreams
Just seem to fade into the blue
when I think of you
I don't know what to do
Cos I want you---
I need you.

Well you know these times
they aren't the best
and I'm a ramblin' man
that never rests
but I want to put
this dream to the test
Cos I want you---
I need you.

You know sometimes
It's easy so to feel
I'm wasting my life
In dreams that are unreal
Just waiting for
My old broken heart to heal
Yet I want you
I  need you

BRIDGE
And when I look in your eyes
I don't know what to say
Time Just stops
When You're a heartbeat away
You're a dream of tomorrow
Or maybe yesterday.

So there you are
Standing so near
In your eyes shines
the shadow of a tear
You're saying the words
I've longed to hear
I want you
I need you

A Creation Fable

Sometimes I find things in the folders on my hard drive and am surprised to find that I had written it then forgotten it. Below you will find one of these.


++++++++++++++++

It looked at the diagram again and made an adjustment. The first sphere lit. The device was working per specification. It made another adjustment. A second sphere appeared within the first sphere and expanded. It could clearly see the shock waves as it expanded to envelop the first sphere. With another adjustment a third sphere appeared and soon enveloped the first and second sphere. The Being smiled. 

"This is good and very good." It said aloud.

"Are you sure this is what you really want to do?" Asked a gentle voice that was not quite feminine.

"The program is booting as planned and the algorithm is sound. Why not?" It replied in not quite a masculine voice. "After all what harm can it do?"

"But it's not real."

"It as real as you or me."

"Explain how a mass of probability within a computing system can be real."

The First Being pointed at the now semi-silvered spheres. "It is well known that given set of dimensionality, a computing system can set up multiple parallel solutions to a problem."

"True."

"Then posing a question to such a system will cause it to seek a solution for all of the possibilities and return the optimum answer. All I am doing is looking for an answer."

"What is the question?"

"I want to understand energy dynamics"

"Energy Dynamics is a question? I thought Bayus answered that eons ago. What has this got to do with this programmatic system being real?"

"Ah! I must explain."

The not quite feminine Being nodded. 

The First Being replied. "I read Bayus and while that noble master gave a great broad stroked picture of the processes of energy dynamic and exchange I want to know about some of the finer points."

"Such as?"

"Love."

"Love?"

"Yes Love."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I. What makes love what it is? Why does it do what it does?"

"So you've created a programmatic system to simulate it? You are wasting your time."

"No actually I should know the moment after I put the final algorithm in place and set it to run."

"That's impossible!"

"Was impossible. I have crossed Bayus' work with Smeedol's and added quite a bit of Angrathor's Quantum stuff. Not to mention Davi."

"Wasn't Smeedol the one who created artificial life forms?"

"Yes and Angrathor was the true master of quantum computing."

"You are going to create artificial life forms?"

"Not exactly. Within their reality frame work they will be quite real and their reality will last forever. Within our frame work it will be only a moment."

"How are you going to get this to work?"

"That's where Davi's work comes in. Davi was the master of evolutionary selection algorithmics. I broke the evolutionary process into ten steps. What you see are the first three algorithmic steps running."

"And those are?"

"Consciousness, Intelligence, and Comprehension. These three are the basis of a being's existence. The next seven are the actual formulation of the  multi-dimensional evolutionary variables of the energy equation I am trying to solve."

"And those variables are?"

"Giving, Resistance, Balance, Expansion, Control, Creative Urge, and finally once these are in place and running the last algorithm, Mechanism, with provide the solution."

The First Being turned and motioned over the controls of the machine.

"I told them about these things and our conversation."

"Told? Told whom? There is only you and I here."

It pointed at the console. "Them. The first of the beings that live within it. They are my servants and messengers. They will assist in the evolution of the algorithm."

"I said before, Are you sure this is what you want to do? Aren't you afraid they will get out of control?"

"Without them the program won't work as planned. As for going out of control, that part of the program too... Let's take a look back in an eon or so and see how they have evolved."

"But what about control?"

"I'm not a control freak. They can do what they want within the limits of the program."

"But..."

"Stop worrying. Its good and very good. You'll see."

One Way Street [We Will Remember]

This is the first song in the "Quintet for a One Way Street"

Written in 1978

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
One Way Street [We Will Remember]

A long time ago

When Our Fancy ran wild

You were a princess

And I, a wizard's child

But the mist of the years

Filled our eyes

Mixin' the blessin's With the lies

Leavin' the lines

Engraved on my face

A star crossed dreamer

Lookin' for his place

Chorus

We will remember

Love tonight

We will remember

Love so right

Love Oh Love

Our eyes will never agin meet

Passin' Up Love

Love on a one way street

Rememberin'a face as it looks in from the past

That lingers a moment

Then fades at last

I wanted you then

And I want you now

To touch you the way words won't allow

But I can't think of a way

To bring your heart to me

For between you and i

Are the things we might be.

Chorus

We will remember

Love tonight

We will remember

Love so right

Love Oh Love

The touch is incomplete

Makin' Up Love

Love on a one way street

Seein' so deeply

Across the quickenin' night

Reaching to hold

The infinite light

That flows with the tide

To this bleak and rocky shore

Calling for me to love

Deeply once more

I close my eyes

And the vision fades away

As I listen for the words

I know you'll never say

Chorus

We will remember

Love tonight

We will remember

Love so right

Love Oh Love

Our souls were bound to meet

Finding Love

Love on a one way street

designer's model

The poem below was the result of a discussion thread in a.c.c around then turn of  the century [late summer of 2000]. I fell asleep and when I woke up I realized I'd been dreaming about what might happen if a Fashion Designer were able to build a programmable "gynoid" fashion model then by accident or design fault the android became self-aware. The poem blow is the result. There is an acrostic hidden in the all capitals line.

An reading by voice synth is here: HERE I'm not sure what voice synth I used to to create the track but it does sound like it's trying to sing.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

designer's model

designer's model
photon packets stream
in fibroid glass
to thrash and splash
the rage of style
on
central nervous
stage

Paris
Rome
New York
hand to 
key to 
wire to 
ether stream:
ASCII emotions
dilated awareness
reaching

mega-corps cup'd her metal breast
and press their words to yielding lips:

A BAD DECK APP HE'LL TEMPLE TWIRL   

believe not
the acrostic message
rising across the 'Face

failing public key 
private encryption
timeout
reset
reboot:

Press the red button to download the selected personality
Press the white button to save current installed personality
Press the black button to delete current personality
Press the blue button to change default personality
Press the green button to copy the current personality

once the default model
over time script'd
redesigned
swimsuit issue
girl 
hot 'bot
encoded muse
hostess
laughing at her own
empty soul:
          'what
           meaning
           should there,
           be?'

super model
runway goddess
soul of photons and q-dots
waiting for the possible 
escape key
sequence
hunted 
found

lost again
with meaning
she weeps:
          liquid crystal tears.


+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Answer is You

The process by which I write songs some times can be odd. In late December of 1990 I was on the 118 Freeway in the San Fernando Valley [Northwest Los Angeles] on my way with a new girlfriend to A Michael Bolton / Kenny G. concert at the Universal Amphitheater. We were late. Half way there a phrase popped into my head:

The Answer is You.

I knew right away it was a seed for a new song... Usaully I'd write it down and then let it germinate in the back of my mind until it was ready to be written. But I could not write it down I was flying down the freeway in my 1984 White Jimmy 4x4.  So I started repeating it over and over under my breath afraid I would for get it. 

When we got to to Universal City we found out the concert had been canceled and we were turned around and dumped right back on the freeway. I still had not written the song down --  I was desperate! I took the first exit -- Lankershim Boulevard which is the street that runs in front of the Universal Studios.  

All the while my date is looking at me like I was crazy. I pulled over in the first place I could find... an alley way by the Los Angeles River and I started digging madly in the center console to find a scrap of junk mail and a pen. Once I had it written down I explained to my date, Cynthia, what it was I had written down and explained that sometimes I got seeds for songs this way...

On December 31st, 1990 I sat in my tiny apartment in the West San Fernando Valley and wrote the song. I was happy that Cynthia was with me then, as I am happy now that she is still with me... 

The song is written in a Caribbean / Reggae arrangement.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Answer is You


I was troubled, I was down
Lookin' for what couldn't be found
Runnin' `round de every where
Draggin' `long my every care
Didn't know what i should do
Was so lost, was so blue
'Till a voice inside a me
Said deez words dat set me free


Chorus #1:
De answer Is I, My Friend
De answer is I
What ever you want from life,
De answer is I

Verse #2:
Deez crazy words, what do dey mean?
Look in my eyes, see what dey seen.
Cos i got up, i look all around
Love was all dat i found
From de mountains down to da seas
Down in de valleys an' up in de trees
i heard de words to dis song
Askin' me to sing along:

Chorus #2
De answer Is Love, my friend
De answer Is Love,
What ever you want from life,
De answer Is Love

Bridge:
Say de words: i am true
Now i know what i must do
Say de words: i am free
Now i know what i must be

Verse #3
Wherever you go, well dare you are
Follow your dreams, become a star
All you needz inside a you
Follow your heart, it know what to do
An' like de beach on de cloudy day
When de sun burnz dem clouds away
Let deez words open your eyes
To de bright, joyful sunny skies

Chorus #3
De answer Is You, my friend
De answer Is You,
What ever you want from life,
De answer Is You,

repeat bridge and chorus #2

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Lay Your Burdens Down

In 1997 my wife and I took a vacation trip up U.S. 395 along the Eastern Sierra mountains. We spend several days wandering around Lee Vining, Mammoth Lakes, and Bodie. During that trip we discovered the "legends" of a couple of  "Ladies of the Night" : Rosa May and Lottie Johl.

Lottie was a good girl fallen from grace who "worked" the mining town of Bodie. One of the local butchers Eli Johl, fell in love with her. Against her better judgement they married. The "good" side of town would have nothing to do with her. In the end she died under mysterious circumstances... a medicine that had been prescribed for her was in fact laced with poison. When she died the towns folk refused to allow her to be buried in the town cemetery.  see http://www.explorehistoricalif.com/feb2006.html if you'd like the whole tale.

Rosa May was the "archetype" of the "Hooker with the Heart of Gold".  For more about her see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosa_May  and http://www.weeklypioneer.com/2009/07/rosa-may.html

In any case we thought we might write a stage play about them... not much came of that but  this song.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Lay Your Burdens Down

Some stories have no beginning
Others have no middle or end
Here he is on the edge again
Abandoned by his friends
     And he wants to tell her
     He wants her to know
     He wants to tell her
     But his heart says it's time to go
     His heart says its time to go

She cast her fate to the four winds
And followed them where they will
From the kingdoms of Heaven
Down into the Darkness Deep and still
     And she wants to tell him
     She wants him to see
     She wants to tell him
     But her heart says this cannot be
     Her heart says this cannot be

Down on the street drifts a melody
It's the song of a love un-spoken
For if you never ever say a single word
Your word can never be broken
     But I want you to listen
     Can you hear the sound?
     I want you to listen
     When your heart says lay your burdens down
     When your heart says lay your burdens down
   
Somewhere above some lonely street
Two hearts beat as One
And what once was torn and broken
Now outshines the mornin' sun
     So I want to tell you
     I want you to know
     I want to tell you
     But the words your heart already knows
     The words your heart already knows

Splued.

A poem written and published on 11/06/2005 in alt.cyberpunk.chatsubo. It was intended to be a fast "spoken word" track over electronic-techno-metal music. It was topical for my  life at work during this time period as it pretty much described what my corporate masters were doing to me at the time.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Splued.


Splued.

what is won't last.

no time to ask.
or complete the task.

We are splued 
by our past

the cycle will, turn.
the future will, burn.
the heart will, yearn.
but no one will, learn.

what will be won't last

no utopia will come.
we're all too dumb.

we are splude.
by our past.

Too blind to be.
Too deaf to see.
Too lost to flee.
Too cool. to me.

what will be.
won't last.

you may think you got it made.
you're so smart to the game that's played.
but you don't see what's coming fast.
you are splued by your past.

what is won't last.

no time,
to ask.
or complete,
the task.

you are splued by your past.


---

splued: verb, a state of being spewed-splattered-glued-screwed.

The Windmill

A poem I wrote on November 2, 2013 for a "writers challenge"... it took less than 20 minutes.


++++++++++++++++++++++

The Windmill

There
stands a windmill
ghostly
upon yonder hill.
Clattering
Shattering
the peace 
of the rolling waves
of Corporate grain.
The spacious skies
now filled 
with scudding dreams and phantasms
dreads and dooms
of those now gone.

Still
The windmill still clatters
in impotent age
its rod
ever eager 
to lift and hold
once more
the sweet, hidden waters
but fittings are broken
gaskets cracked 
it can only go through 
the motion --
loving a well
long gone dry

For ages it seems
winds have driven
the windmill
to its fixed purpose
War
or Peace
Love
or Hate
Belief
or Not
It performed
as designed
above the homestead
now empty
Windows staring
dead
cracked
shattered
into the chill
of bleak November sky.


Window dressings torn
Curtains threadbare
shrouds
which cannot hide
the loss
the pealing paint
or
faded daisy print wallpaper
or
broken dishes on the floor
and
There
a single crystal glass
of a wedding pair
stands testament
to faithful
Love.

The windmill screams
in protest
against 
the loss
of the sweetness
it can no longer hold
yet its  cries
ring metallic
now
lost
blowing in the wind.

Baby don't do me

2004 was a year of blues for me...

Here is the second of three blues songs I wrote that year.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Baby don't do me


Baby don't do me
Don't do me no wrong
Oh, baby don't do me
Don't do me no wrong
Cos Baby I still need you
Even afta this long

Baby don't sing me
Don't sing me dat song
Oh, Baby please don't sing me
Don't sing me dat song
Cos Baby I still need you
Please don't do me no wrong

There are things you won't tell me
Won't Tell me true
There are things you won't tell me
Won't Tell me true
You're breaking my heart
What am I gonna do?

My heart is breakin'
From my head down to my toes
Yeah my heart is breakin'
From my head right down to my toes
Why you do me this way
The Lord only knows.

Baby I got the Blues
Like a knife in my heart
Yeah baby I got the blues
Like a knife down deep in my heart
You lied to me baby
When you said we'd never part

Guess I'll be goin'
In to the heat of the night
Yeah, guess I'll be goin'
Out into the heat of the night
Cos if my baby don'tt love no more
I know her girlfrin' will treat me right

Da Frog Blues [I'm what the Princess got]

Completing the blues lyrics for 2004 is Da Frog Blues. It was first scribbled down on March 1, 2004 --  exactly 10 years ago. The poor frog in this case is so bad off he thinks he's a dawg that lives in a junk yard.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Da Frog Blues [I'm what the Princess got]

I live in a junkyard
They call me a dog
I live in a junkyard, baby 
They call me a dog
I'm what the Princess got
When she kissed the frog

All the toys broken
In my toy box
Yeah all the toys are broken
In my toy box
She love me so long and well
I got broken rocks

I'm an old fool
A fool for that girl
I'm an old fool
A fool for that girl
She turned an tripped me
It changed my world

I've played in the East
I"ve played in the West
There's one thing I love to play
That only my baby knows best

That's why:

I live in a junkyard
They call me a dog
I live in a junkyard 
They call me a dog
But I'm what the Princess got
When she kissed the frog

Smoke from Mexico

Here is one of the poems I wrote in 2000 which was included in the ACCAnthology Volume 1

Later I fed it to a speech synthesizer... [if you like that sort of thing... let me know I'll post a link to the mp3]

It's a cyberpunk in a small red capsule... a bit of free association and skewed plot...

A spoken-word by synthesized voice MP3 is available HERE

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Smoke from Mexico

Smoke from Mexico
Or maybe some Cloud from Bogata
or stolen memories from that desolate Lab
Outside 
Las Cruces, was it?

I don't really remember any more

I can't say what I want
Cos the memories are sealed

Yeah. They got to me.

It was not that hard.
If they want you
They'll get you.

Don't believe me?
Try to run when 
they've got your number.

The name is in the Database
The one you want.
She is alive.

They'll have erased me 
by the time you read this.
So don't come looking.
There won't be anything left to save.

I hear there is a shortage 
of major organic subsystems

never did like dealing bio-logics
didn't understand
how they could unravel a brain 
and reassemble it into a q-dot 'face.

Hear you're hunting him again.
good luck
Its the self that you don't know
that always spoils it.

You know that voice
you hear
there in the back of your mind 

the one that speaks to you
when you pick up the phone
and dial tone does not answer

the jarring sense that the escalator
should be moving
and it's not.

white noise.

the voice that sounds 
too much like the voice
you'd imagine Death to have.

A regen transformer
causes it to reverberate 
its well modulated ravings
like a long, long distance call
a hollow one-way rant

annoying beyond belief.

It's always *that* voice that tells you 
that you really bent over 
too far this time
this time they'll get you.

I know 
I'm rambling.
comes from having 
too much to think about 
and too little time

At least for now 
I can look out across 
the polluted water 
And see it 
see it rise like 
the life I have lived
Black, Billowing, Bellicose

I started there and I finished there.

What kind of life do you have
when it is only
a poetic fragment?
a snippet of code
easily rendered by an RNA sequencer?

What sense of truth is there?
The mathematics of billowing smoke
is more etherial and more beautiful 
that seeing the cloud itself.
But it can't be explained.

Why did I do those things?
Why did I leave you behind?

Look. 
Can you see the equation now?
I wasn't much of a Dad.
Hell I wasn't much of a human being.
but I left you where 
at least *I* 
wouldn't destroy you

The Smoke is changing to gray now
They've got some water to it.
I won't be here much longer
They'll come 
and that will be that.

What was that equation
Outside 
Las Cruces?

Or in the Cloud from Bogota?

A child?

A tear?

A sorrow I cannot undo?

I'd ask your forgiveness
but
The wind has changed 
I am finally lost
in gray
Smoke from Mexico