Resurrection

I dug you up tonight
from deep down in the earth
your resting place for untold years
disturbed the sacred ground
and dragged you from the scene

I propped you up tonight
reposed gravely silent on the couch
your frail remains lit by pale moonlight
a pallid corpse in eerie shroud
a dearth of flesh remained

hollow sockets where sweet emerald eyes once shined
a smile...those lips...now left in ghastly grimace fixed
hair spun from raven angels undone by mortal webs
soft curves conquered by brittle bones of unmarrowed pore
once beating heart absent in this frigid coil.

love me...love me again. fill me with forgotten joy
revive me with your cold caress, arise in bold defiance
of all that would destroy you.
Heal me with your kind embrace, save me from my walking death
love me...please love me again...give me life again

abandoned pride revealed in grotesque desperation
and from this visage no soft whispers came
no apology, no regret, no comfort spoke
despite my manic pleadings, all ignored. complacent to the end
splintered passion hung heavy in the air

I cannot put you back
among the worms whose feast has turned you
beneath the soil in morbid solitude
wrapped in death's linen
life begs to death and death to life remembered

I cannot put you back
I will not put you back

Raven

Tender words pierced not her heart
eloquence sincere fell deaf upon her ears
It was disdain and contempt that moved her.
shallow love stirred deep passions there.
blood red desire bubbled hot and fed dark thoughts.
eternal devotion struck ne'r a chord of intimate restraint
she was a soul unimpressed by gentle cravings and soft strokes of finger tips.
Overcome with baser delights, content with her own black romance
And so she settled light upon her bed and knew fulfillment only in passing.
Love so sad, unfurled in haste
and perfect in it's emptiness.

R.S.

I feel you too much
bare naked to your touch and promise
beat down by the illusion of a destiny yet awaiting
damned disarming lie of such

your kiss wet upon my lips
that chill brushed lightly from tongue to hips
mocking my will to dismiss you
wash away this stubborn stain with tender tears

then let them dry so that I
may once again return to stone.

Obama Creates New Cabinet Post

Newswire
Times- Picayune
April 9,2010






Unnamed sources from the White House have confirmed that R. Otis, self-proclaimed time traveler and announced presidential 2012 candidate, has re-emerged recently and had several closed door conferences with President Barack Obama regarding his proposed temporal sabotage platform. Otis revealed his plans to basically re-write history if elected when he posted his so called "Undo List" on the internet sparking controversy and accusations of mental instability and labelling him "just another wingnut from the Left." The official word is that their final meeting discussed the possible formation of a new envoy post for Otis that included as part of the deal abandoning his presidential candidacy in 2012. Otis is said to be giving the offer thoughtful consideration. Otis made a brief statement after a photo appeared on line showing himself and President Obama enjoying drinks and conversation at a New Orleans French Quarter night spot. "It is no accident that Obama's healthcare plan finally passed, and there is more progress to come in the coming months...watch for it." Otis also added that "if I choose not to run in 2012, I foresee Obama winning his second term...and that's all I will say about that right now."

So...What's The Story?

Meet Steve...self-proclaimed ultra conservative and reluctant entrepreneur. I am using the picture on the right without his permission so I suspect I'll be hearing from his attorney shortly. Just kidding...he'll probably just have my legs broken. Seriously though, Steve Chapman came closest to being my manager, agent, promoter, producer and spiritual adviser over anyone. Frankly, people weren't standing in line for the priviledge but he took it upon himself to help bolster my music career and help me get heard.

Steve had a lot of talent back in those days. He was a musician himself and he knew virtually everyone else out there who wanted to play too. Anyone familiar with our small town of Slidell back then could tell you that it was tough to get noticed because there were very few venues of opportunity available. Enter Steve. Steve Chapman was always thinking of ways to make money and a lot of those ways involved me investing money in those ideas. I was always skeptical but I have to give him his due. I watched in amazement as he opened his own music store with virtually no money and I saw first hand what a flair for organization and sales he had while he sweet talked representatives from music companies. Without going into a long explanation let me just say that Steve was responsible for encouraging me to write and record my music. Not only that, but he set up the recording sessions through connections that he had and at one point arranged to have my music played on the local radio station while at the same time promoting his store. I believe that's called marketing. In a perfect world Steve would have been an agent or concert promoter and I would have been a star because he saw potential in a lot of people who had no clue about self promotion.

Over the decades Steve never veered far from his love of music and the hardware it took to make it happen but I will always wonder how things would have turned out if he had himself been pushed to at least try his hand at realizing his own larger dreams.

Jamie

Not everything I write is about me and that is the case with this song. Jamie Abney was a girl who worked with me at the theater in Slidell back in the mid-seventies. The song was the result of a conversation between Jamie and me about her boyfriend of many years. It is written in that form with recollections of how the two were seemingly falling out of love. The core message of the song is obvious as one listens and furthermore I still believe it is true even today. On a side note, I was inspired to write this song after hearing a recording of a Kris Kristofferson 1970 composition called "Casey's Last Ride." I was impressed with the power of his lyrics and his ability to create and tell a story so poignantly.

"Casey's Last Ride" was recorded later by Johnny Cash and then even later by John Denver. I began to consider that maybe songwriting could actually be it's own reward above and beyond performing.

The New Horizon

I met Marian for the first time in the Spring of 1979. She was searching for a piece of sheet music one Saturday morning and walked into my friend's music store while I was visiting him.

She walked in the door while we were in mid conversation and the minute I saw her I was struck by her look. Her long blonde hair fell softly down on her shoulders and her complexion possessed an ethereal quality of delicateness and fragility that pierced my heart. Dressed in jeans, she wore a flattering sheer peasant-style top with string straps, one that stubbornly insisted on slipping off her shoulder, and as she spoke her voice was soft and sweet. As I recall she could not find what she was looking for but as I fumbled to find out more about her she confessed that she might be looking for a job of some sort for the summer after graduation. I suggested that she apply at the movie theater where I worked hoping I would again see or hear from her. At the time I really didn't think she would follow up but she did. At the risk of sounding like a jerk I must confess that I wanted to date her more than I wanted to hire her. And that's how it began. The relationship escalated quickly and I got my first clear indication of her impetuous nature when she made me wait outside in front of her house one night as she went inside and cancelled her date for prom to go with me instead. And the afternoon of her graduation she turned her beautiful blonde hair orange while trying to add highlights. That's what I loved about her.

That was the beginning, but the end came soon in late Fall of that year when I visited her at college to watch her in a theater production on campus. As much as I enjoyed the play, the relationship was already over. She knew it but I didn't. Her plans included Barbizon Modeling School and involvement in the Drama Department at college. She had found at least two other admirers at school that had no knowledge of me whatsoever. The big revelation for me though was that she fully intended to pursue some kind of career in live theater. I understood her desire to do that. I myself wanted to play music and be on stage and be admired...dare I say adored by fans and audiences. At that time I had stopped playing rock music and instead concentrated on songwriting and acoustic performances. I cut my hair and trimmed my beard. It was for me a more satisfying experience. My idols at the time were Jim Croce, John Denver and Dan Fogelberg. I wanted to do what they did. So I tried. My songs were personal and heartfelt and crafted from my own heartbreak and sorrow. The recordings that I made back then were done hastily and with little knowledge of the process. The studio in Slidell was small and the sound engineer was a guy named Joe who for eighty dollars and a bottle of scotch agreed to oversee the sessions. The song that accompanies this photo from 1979 (provided by Marian) is written for and about Marian. It's just me and my guitar. Girls have been the inspirations for countless songs through the years ( Walk Away Renee, My Sharona,etc.) and my songs are no different The relationship lasted for less than a year but in it's brief time contained more than it's share of low and high drama. There is another song written for her called "My Poetess, My Troubadour" and it was composed while we were still together but never recorded. I have posted the lyrics to that song on my blog as well. It was meant to be a duet but it too was filled with romantic fatalism...love lost and lamented. That's just my style.