Dominatrix Glow

Spiritualities, welcome!

http://deepdesertblues.yolasite.com

~~~

Rawclyde’s Code Room 

is the blog

that

(beside some politics)

most often

regards

The Old Stuff

1970 thru 2000

by

Rawclyde

!

~~~

Ode To El Cajon Boulevard 1973

God created angels to fly above your head…

***

The sun’s going down

I’m feeling high

driving up El Cajon Boulevard ~

I’m in the best

truck this city’s ever seen

purple, faded, old, and chipped ~

and I got a cigar in my mouth

puffin’ away ~

the red lights blink

the traffic sings…

*

   Yeah ~

there’s a little boy

walkin’ on the sidewalk

with a bubble around his head ~

here comes a little girl

pops the bubble with a pin

and she says to him ~

*

“Love is insanity and I’m Insane.”

*

   Yeah ~

there between two buildings

crawls an old woman on her knees

with a piece of fish in her hand ~

she’s chasing a cat

   cackling at the cat ~

*

“Love is insanity and I’m insane.”

*

   Hmm ~

there’s two girls and a guy

sittin’ on a wall, all

three smoking cigarettes ~

the two girls talk to each other

as the guy silently sits by himself

  blowing smoke rings that signal ~

*

“Love is insanity and I’m insane.”

*

Well well ~

an old man in a Cadillac

just stopped to pick up a

hitch-hiking  junior-high-school girl ~

she won’t get in

the old man pulls a knife

she pulls a gun ~

a cop rolls by and

they both start to run ~

on his radio

the cop calls the chief to tell him ~

*

“Chief,

love is insanity and I’m insane.”

*

The cop cruises along

finds a girl in a bathrobe

crossing the street ~

He finds out she’s escaped

from a hospital she thinks

she doesn’t belong at ~

he tells her “You got to go back”

and she replies ~

*

“Lord,

love is insanity and I’m insane!”

*

On El Cajon Boulevard

life rolls on ~

Some of these people don’t even know

their sanity is gone…

*

Now here comes

a public health nurse

foaming at the mouth and

throwing water balloons at

billboards ~ she’s

got a whole wheel-barrel

full of water balloons

and a nest full of baby sparrows

in her hair ~ the

tiny birds chirp madly ~

*

“Love is insanity and this nurse

doesn’t know she’s insane!”

*

I’ll bet you

this darlin’ goes home

crawls into her lab ~

puts love on the table

gives it a stab ~

cuts it to pieces

trying to figure it out ~

but all she gets is a dead frog

with its guts spread all about ~

oh I bet

it’s hard on her brain

trying to stay normal and plain

when each piece of gut

whispers to her soul ~

*

“Love is insanity and you’re insane!”

*

Little girls smile

dogs wag their tales ~

I live in an old slow truck

and my brothers are snails ~

I’m driving along all alone

on this boulevard of charm

looking for the ride-seeking thumb

on any hitch-hiking arm ~

I don’t want to get too righteous

but I can’t refrain ~

*

“Love is insanity and I’m insane.”

***

from

For The Queen Of My Buffalos

a book by Rawclyde!

( copyright Clyde Collins 1980 )

***

The Unhappy Fate Of Old Rhino Hate

God created devils to be stepped on by your toes…

~~~

One noon day

I was sitting at

my table

eating my meal

~

A bowl full of

moon and

star and little girl

heart vibrations

~

When from out of

no where ~ maybe

from behind a

rock

~

There hobnobbed

up

to

me

~

An old rhino

with

a bad back

a bad liver

~

But with

the most superior

mind

in the world

~

In his hand

was a

glass full of

black ink

~

In the ink

there were a

thousand bugs

all screaming

~

As they drowned

“Hate!

 Hate!

   Hate!”

~

The old rhino

roughly

set this glass down

on my table

~

Next to my bowl

and

he said

“Eat it, kid”

~

My lip

quivered I’m sure

and my eyes

went round

~

As I peered

into this glass

then my bowl

then the glass again

~

I took a

lonnnnnnng

look at this fat

old rhino

~

With a glint in

his eye

cold as the deepest

part of the ocean

~

He picked up

his glass

slammed it down

on my table

~

He said again

“Eat it, kid”

and the thousand

shrill little bugs

~

As they drowned

in the ink of

the glass

continued to scream

~

“Hate!

  Hate!

    Hate!”

good background music

~

I tried to

ignore the old

beast and

his glass of ink

~

I continued to

eat from

my own bowl

of

~

Moon

and star

and little girl

heart vibrations

~

But this

this beast under the

noon sun

would not go away

~

Continued to say

“Eat

   it,

    kid”

~

And you know

what

the bugs

were screaming

~

Into the

cold gray ocean

in the old rhino’s

eye

~

I looked again

tried a grin

gave my bowl a spin

said, “Try mine!”

~

He blushed purple

huffed & huffed

shook his head negatively

and repeated

~

As he pointed to his glass

“Eat

   it,

    kid”

~

I tried to

spit

in his eye but

missed, hit

~

The horn on his head

instead

and said

“No thanks”

~

He wiped the spittle

off his horn with

his tongue

gritted with a squint

~

“It doesn’t taste

very good

but it will keep

you alive”

~

Then he banged

his glass on my table

knocked my bowl

to the ground

~

Did a somersault

jumped up and down

began to

look too tough

~

So

I

said

“That’s enough”

~

Yours truly

grabbed the glass

drank the ink

all the bugs

~

That were screaming

“Hate!

  Hate!

    Hate!”

~

Old Rhino smiled at me

as if we were now

the best of comrades

true and stout

~

I smiled too

pulled out a gun

aimed it at

his head

~

His smile faded fast

and boom

he

was dead.

~~~

from

For The Queen Of My Buffalos

a book by Rawclyde!

( copyright Clyde Collins 1980 )

~~~

Saint Joan of Mars

She’s Got A Road Mood

Oh courageous young-woman commander, called by God to save another nation in another time & place ~  thank you!  I pray that, like you, Saint Joan, I hear God’s call in my life and nurture the road mood to follow it faithfully…

~

A Road Mood

(tall stories)

~

The #1 Reason For Keeping Obama In The White House

~~~

~~~

by Davy Crockett Reincarnated

(alias Rawclyde!)

~~~

Being Davy Crockett Reincarnated can be a burden ~ but I bare this burden with coy joy ~ because being a reincarnated American folk hero is, to be blunt, an honor & an adventure.

For example, this afternoon when I delicately balanced my old soiled hat upon my head and stepped outdoors for a stroll, the hat turned into a live raccoon.  And the raccoon talked.  As I strolled through the neighborhood we had a pretty good conversation ~ my hat and I.  This wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t a reincarnated folk hero.

After a few introductory remarks, politics came up, as it often does when the conversation is with yours truly.  As I strolled along the avenue, this furry critter with the ringed tail atop my head said, “What’s the big deal about keeping Obama in the White House?”

“What kind of question is that?,” squinted I.  “There’s about a hundred big deals why we wanna keep President Barack Obama in the White House.  Which big deal do you wanna know about?”

My raccoon friend squirmed around above my brow, grew still and said, “The most important.”

I dodged some shade as it was getting nippy outside and sunshine is warmer than shade.  I had to cross the street in order to keep light on the fascinating subject that we were discussing.  The hopeful re-election of the president was only a few days away.  I mused, “So you want to know what the number one big deal is why we want to keep President Obama in the White House, do you?”

“Yes!” exclaimed the raccoon.

“That’s easy, brother,” said I.

We passed a family pushing a baby carriage along the sidewalk and trailing a straggly mutt.  Looking raggedy and homeless, they plodded along in the opposite direction.  Cars were honking and screeching like they do in this particular locale ~ which I will not disclose ~ for I am presently caught-up in a secret-agent assignment from the White House.   That’s right, Davy Crockett Reincarnated, besides being a folk hero from a bygone era, is also the White House’s favorite secret-agent.

To the living breathing hat on my head I said, “We don’t want to kick that cute little Black family out of the White House.  That would be one unforgivable heartless act!”

There was no reply.  There was no reaction.  I took my hat off and looked at it.  It was the same old soiled hat that it was the day before.  It was no longer a raccoon!

I slammed it back on my head and finished the conversation anyway ~  “And that’s the number-one reason for keeping Obama in the White House as far as I am concerned!”

~~~

~~~

Saint Joan of Mars praying for Obama…

~

3

Saint Joan of Mars bivouacking on Cathedral Mountain…

2

The Saint Joan Reincarnated Pictorial

1

Saint Joan Of Arc on Mars mobilizing Martians for Obama…

~

liftoff!

~

A Ghost Town Called Love

~~~

~~~

A man with a face

that grimaces & grins

is better than a ghost

who stands there & spins

~~~

A Ghost Town Called Love

(another 2012 blog)

~~~

Invisible Martians campaign in Arizona for Obama…

Invisible Martians on wild burros ride

into the desert town of Brenda, Arizona, campaigning

door to door for President Barack Obama…

~~~

soundtrack

http://songza.com/listen/sidetrailintothefuture-cloydlovesthe

~~~

She Who Is Obeyed

Rawclyde’s Tall Stories

• Deep Desert Blues
• Road’s Cannon
• The Road Princess And Eternity
• Wild Women In The Borderlands Of My Mind

Jack Rabbit

~~~

~~~

God this, God that, God everything & damn it too

the end of reality’s trail & everything else that’s true

the last frontier of hard facts and how-do-you-do’s

I stood on a hill in deep desert & all I had was ‘de blues

~

Find yourself a woman, lad, and work for a living too

make sure she’s a good woman who will always stand by you

raise some kids or corn and ply your trade on the avenue

or you’ll end up standing amongst the cacti with nothing else to do

~

I stood there hard and long concentrating on every thorn

but no angel arrived blowing music on a golden horn

all was quiet but a little wind, no birds, just some ants

crawlin’ around aimlessly lookin’ for someone with whom to dance

~

I trudged back to the truck, crunching the desert turf along the way

opened the doors to the book-store in the rear without much to say

figured I’d sell a book or two if a miracle happened to stray

but there was nobody around but me on this fine lonely day

~

Nobody but a million catatonic cacti with not much to offer but a thorn

stretching off into the distance come evening and come morn

I sat in the wind & the blood of my brain ~ t’was a mournful song

and then, and then, suddenly, a rabbit come lopin’ along

~

T’was the biggest I’d ever seen, about the size of a dog

a jack rabbit who fit no-ways in any kind of catologue

he wasn’t at all shy like other rabbits in other scenes

when he stopped & asked me, “Have you got any books on human beings?”

~

Stunned, I replied, “I have books on coyotes and snakes

cacti, deserts, rivers, God and whatever it takes

to get along with anything including killer bees

but, but all I have on human beings are fantasies”

~

The rabbit sadly bowed his head, loped away and disappeared

I said to a fly buzzing around my hat, “that was really weird”

closed up the store, bent low to tie one of my worn-out shoes

climbed behind the wheel, bumped on outta them deep desert blues…

~~~

poem from an out-of-print book

A Love Song To The American Lizard

by Rawclyde!

(Copyright Clyde Collins 1999)

~~~

One tall cactus plant…

~~~

So there I stood in the midst of swirling sand

growing roots outta my feet n’ thorns outta my hand

I was turning into one tall cactus plant

listening to tarantulas crawl and coyotes chant

~

The city drove up n’ said “boo!” n’ I almost died

it jumped outta its car into a pan and fried

I revived, sprouted a bud, but couldn’t talk

sprouted two more buds n’ also couldn’t walk

~

My brother come up with a plate in his hand

on the plate was bacon n’ eggs and a big command

from Pope John to grow another inch before sundown

so I grew old instead, fell over n’ hit the ground

~

Now I’m rollin’ across the desert like a tumbleweed

just one of many with an impossible creed

about what is right and what is wrong

   as the dust sings its favorite ancient song…

~~~

poem from an out-of-print book

A Love Song To The American Lizard

by Rawclyde!

(Copyright Clyde Collins 1999)

~~~

Door To Door Campaigner 20

Hi

Cleator Arizona

!

God

it’s good to be here

!!!

I’m a happy go lucky

Martian

just landed in Arizona

to campaign door-to-door

for

   President Obama…

Are

you

registered

to

vote

?

~~~

Randi Rhodes Radio Show:

http://www.randirhodes.com/main.html

~~~

~~~

Back Desert Trail

~~~

~~~

SLAVE TO THE DESERT GODDESS

by Cloyd Campfire

(alias Rawclyde!)

2000 A.D

~~~

~ 1 ~

Chewy Sunset, thee
old hobo, knelt at
Her
nail-cracked sandaled feet

Upon that terrain
from which grows
cacti
creosote and mesquite

And thru which meanders
jack rabbits, dry washes
& the unpaved
Pipeline Road

About a mile from which
this strange drama
did
unfoad.

 

~ 2 ~

Yeeeeeeeap, swathed in
the singing silence &
dry
summer heat

Chewy Sunset
knelt at
Her
immaculate feet

To pull a thorn
outta
Her
toe

After which occurance
Her eyes
magnified their
inherent glow.

 

~ 3 ~

She was divine-
ly
fine-
ly blessed

With long legged
long blond
earth-
iness

Frill free
Salvation Army fare
was
Her dress

Which detracted not
one tithing
from
Her worthiness

She wore a crown of
nothing
but memories
of thee humility

Of wifehood to
an Indian bully boy
a-flirt
with criminility

While isolated for years
on thee olde
Indian
reservation

Now widowhood in
a tiny desert town was
Her
current station

A beauty was She
whose child-like
smile
would never grow old

She gazed down upon Chew
thru
slashing blue
eyes made bold

By his
ob-
vious
dedication

To
Her
desert goddess
radiation.

 

~ 4 ~

Her catharsistic eyes
of
splintering
blue

Cast
a
paradisical
hue

From which
there
was
no escape

Across the
arid
land-
scape

Yea, these immensely talented
eyes also melted down
the poor
old boy

Who had stayed a-kneel
at Her feet
like some kind of
thrift shop toy

Yea, Her eyes melted him down
into
the
desert ground

‘Til he heard the
desolate land’s
every
sound

From deep in a burrow
the snor-
ing of
a squirrel

To the dancing vibration
of
a distant
dust devil’s swirl

From chanting ants to
a cactus’s
deep
toe-wiggling feet

From horizon
to horizon
Her kingdom played
a cacophony replete

Chewy fanned out deep
into the terra firma ’til
he be-
come a part of it all

A new mineral deposit en-
slaved to the
Desert Goddess’s
siren call.

 

~ 5 ~

Yeeeeeeeap, there
Chewy Sunset lay
gravel buffed by wind
dirt fine as dust

A real part of
the land
or
bust

A rattlesnake limp in the
heat, crawled across the spot
looking
for shade

The Desert Goddess crushed
the critter’s head with
Her foot
n’ silently bade

Them both not to follow
Her and
walking on air
She wandered away

Then toward
the end
of
the day

Quite a few
miles
a-
way

She entered the
local saloon
to
slay

An endless thirst
and an endless sorrow
for the end of which
Chewy doth pray.

~

(Copyright Clyde Collins 2012)

~~~

BACK DESERT TRAIL

http://backdeserttrail.yolasite.com/we-the-people.php

~~~