My Blood

            I wrote the cowboy song and now I’m recording it. It’s called My Blood. I went into the studio with an acoustic guitar part and words and true to form, I improvised an electric guitar part with a Fender Telecaster played through a Vox guitar amp. There’s a wicked sound to it. It’s kind of spooky in a way. 

            I had the intention of trying to avoid the cliche cowboy sound, but I’ve learned that the cowboy song has a will stronger than my intentions. It just came out and I can’t rightfully reject what the cosmos give me. I suppose I could and I have in the past, but in this instance the part I came up with is unique enough to keep. I’m looking forward to adding some bass and some more guitar parts. It should be a pretty good tune when it’s all said and done. It would be nice if it found a home in a western.   

Flowers In My Mind

I’ve been riding the trains to and fro. I was sitting on a train the other day and I found myself getting a little uptight. Most people who ride the trains in Los Angeles are poor like me. I was looking at the people on the train and for a moment I somehow put myself above them as if I was not one of them. I settled down and told myself I’m here now, try to appreciate the beauty.

            In that instant the faces on the train became more interesting to look at. We're all here for a short time. Some of us have our marching orders and some of us don’t, or at least some of us aren’t paying attention. We’re part of the system. The system is set up so the wealthy can steal without reprisals. The poet in me thinks it’s all silly. Materialism is silly. It can turn good people into the dirty faces of the poor. The same faces that are now flowers in my mind.