Big City Rush Day

Blogs are kind of new to me and I must admit that I don't really write too much unless I am in a bad mood or get off on a tangent on a subject that is hiding in the back of my mind . I think that this also was a lot of my inspiration as a poet or song writer in the sixties . I did write poetry in response to occurrences , most of which were not happy memories like a betrayal , loneliness , or the frustration of those times . I wrote of prejudice ,bigotry, against the current war ( Viet Nam ),and the possibility equality in our country . I certainly wasn't the only person wrapped tight in the drama of that time as my entire generation seemed to be linked in many ways . Those "Beat" poets of yesteryear like Ferlinghetti had more meat on their bones and in their intelligent semantics in the fifties . There was a group f men in the late sixties that I admired ,who were ahead of their time called "The Last Poets" . This group of men recited their poetry to the rhythm of heavy congas and bongos , heavy rhythm . Their line was rather sensational and well might be seen as a fore runner of "Rap" .

After the break up of my band , "Circus Maximus" , in early 1968 , I still had contact with "The Electric Circus" and I sold them the idea of performing poetry on their stage . They agreed to my original idea which was to have four mikes places across the large stage while I paced and ranted my lines with the music of Morton Subotnic , their resident electronic composer , behind my recitation .They insisted that I sing a solo version of "Wind" once a night as well which was a recognisable song I wrote in that era . I was paid twenty five dollars to do one poetry reading and one song and this helped me to transition to my next group .

The poetry reading would seem , at a distance, to be a calmer thing than it was in real life . As I ranted across the stage building tension , the music building volume as I instructed , the audience seemed wrapped , concentrating on my every word . I was surprised at the violence I could bring up in my inflection and suggestions . My performance was a-rhythmic and not on the beat while the electronic music disoriented and raised tension in the disco crowd of the dance club .There was tumultuous applause after every performance and I came off soaking wet from perspiration from that mere ten minutes or less . I also used sensational language not usually seen in public which is also something that is used in modern "Rap" poetry as a vehicle . The fact is that I couldn't remain that angry all the time . I just didn't get the inspiration to write angry as my habits in poetry were more toward the lyrical love reflections . However ,I did have that experience of pretending I was a poet , acting on stage in a character as I recited my story night after night .This wasn't really my calling to be an act in the "Circus" , in the character of a strange mad poet . The "Electric Circus" had other incidental acts which included karate men in black dojos doing katas , tumblers , jugglers , clowns,tight rope walkers, and the "Lamp Man" . The "Lamp Man" was a black actor who was dressed neatly in a tuxedo who came to the mike in a pin spot that was directed to his face . He would start moaning quietly and build his expression and intensity little by little until he was screaming at the top of his lungs and suddenly the spotlight would go out for a minute , unseen ,he would leave the stage ,and then the circus would re-appear along with reality . I think this act as well as my own portrayal were related to by the audiences of that time . The "Electric Circus" was really ahead of it's time and maybe was never duplicated in that scope of popularity again for something like poetry and acting as an expression of frustration for a entire generation who related to our stage acts in the abstract , accepting and encouraging us .

"Big City Rush Day"

Run rush push shove
Run rush push shove
Big city rush day ,
Get up make your bread lady,
Don't make the bed creaky,
Don't make the bread lady , there's no time ,
Go make your bread,don't clear your head ..
Take the subway , no time for bus today ,
Can't afford the cab anyway .
Have another smoke hippie .
Hold it in don't let em see ,
You nigger lovin' hippie city ,
Zoo and your plastic park pity ,
Hurry , see the monkey titty,
Monkey woman, east-side kitty ,with an
Obviously too busy sissy.
The office prude and pervert who sees
His secretary pinching and bitchy,
Cheetah , dancing empty nightclub,
Magic light show city ,
City stars , super stars, and pseudo-stars,
The rich and gay pretenders .
One dog barking in at two thirty in the hot night city ,
One man whistling a different tune than you , city .
Run rush push shove ,
Run rush push shove,
Lunchtime , hurry up , spend it ,
Eat it up ,blend it , apprehend it , mend it ,
Fuck it !
Oh, lonely subways , crowded with ones ,
Lonely ones crowded with twos ,
Big blues city hippy cry baby ,
Hard news maybe ..
Stone wall flinging music ,
Pity no ones listening two three
Two three , testing two three..
Four Christ sake or for the money ,
Not a rat race ,kitty,
Just a mouse trap apartment ,
See how they run ,eeny meeny ?
Run nigger don't let go ,
Equal opportunity blow ,
Job ,
Run rush push shove
Run rush push shove,
Hurry home with everyone else day ,
Same time , same station , some waiting ,
waiting....to hurry up to wait ,
to hurry up to wait .
Can't wait to hurry ,
.... and wait , wait ,
Weight machines and candy bars ,
waiting to hurry up and work ,
Waiting mirrors combing self consciously his beard .
Run rush push shove ,
Run rush push shove,
Big show, big deal, bid dream city ,
Big phony , carnal,business city ,
Businessman's lies and wives city ,
Big Italian scene stealers with,
Mafia endorsed "Soul healers" .
Bleeding city ,no one cares .
Run rush push shove ,
Run rush push shove,
Folk city guitars and waitress village ,
Plastic sawdust for the weekend hippy ,
Won't let 'em in on Monday mornings .
Run rush push shove,
Run rush push shove,
Big divorce and venereal project
On the lower East Side Ghetty,
Puerto Rican Queen , pretty ,
Caucasionated black beauty ,
Integrating slap happy ,
Hippy nude model , A cheapy chippie ,
Takin' a toke seven to nine ,
Moroccan hash , downing cheap wine ,
Cocaine Sue and Morphine Bob ,
Crashing speed ,
A sexual snob ,
Couldn't stay awake with the heroine too ,
And she had so many children ,
She didn't know what to do .
Welfare fraud and frills ,
Fancy flag waver's yells ,
And skyscraper helmets in Red ,White , and Blue ,
Lower income veterans in khakis , too ..Run rush push shove ..
Run rush push shove,
With so much to do ,
Run rush push shove ,
Run rush push shove,
With nothing to do but
Run rush push shove ,
Run rush push shove
Up the establishment ( and I point into the air , looking aloft in lofty ideals),
Up the establishment ( and I raise my fist into the air ala "Right ON" ),
Up the establishment ( and I Sig hail in a Nazi salute into the air , stiffining my posture )
Up the establishment ! (louder)
Up the establishment ! ( louder...)
Up the establishment ! ( screaming as I defiantly give the air the middle finger )

FUCK THE ESTABLISHMENT !