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PostPosted: Sat Sep 21, 2013 2:51 am
by admin
Explode on the Border, by Charles Carreon

I’m the man in the taco stand
With the detonator in my hand
Please don’t come one step closer
Unless you want more cilantro

Explode on the border
In a tarpaper shack
Explode on the border
Cause they’re never gonna take me back

I got a dark nefarious plan
To make this place like Afghanistan
Make everyone speak Spanish
They’ll all be beaners when I’m finished

Explode on the border
It’s a culture war
Explode on the border
I’ll show you what this burrito’s for

You gotta hate the people you exploit
Demonize them, make the crawl
Never show a speck of thanks
Now you wanna roll out the tanks

So we’ll explode on the border
Won’t that be fun
Explode on the border
Golf carts burning in the sun

They ask me for my papers
I got the detonator in my hand
They’ll never take me alive
‘Cause I’m the suicide taco man

Explode on the border
Gimme my desert back
Explode on the border
And enjoy your a heart attack


PostPosted: Sat Sep 21, 2013 2:54 am
by admin
Eye For Eye, by Charles Carreon


The sun comes up on another day
People in a land they call holy
Droppin' bombs and burnin' families
Looks like it's just another stage
In our planetary nightmare

It's the human condition
It's the human condition
Tooth for tooth
Eye for eye
That's why the whole world
Has gone blind
We waste the fruit
And eat the rind
Makin' hell on earth
In search of Paradise
It's the human condition
It's the human condition

Long ago in a desert land
A tribe of herders got a bit too wise
They said, we’ll claim we are a special people
And all the men will get circumcised

We’ll make a deal with God Almighty
Claim he gave us lands of milk and honey,
We’ll write a book of fantasy
And claim impressive ancestry.

And each successive generation
Bought a slice of their deception
Claiming God was on their side.

From Constantine to Martin Luther
Witchhunts to the Inquisition
Good had nowhere left to hide.

It's the human condition
It's the human condition
Tooth for tooth
Eye for eye
That's why the whole world
Has gone blind
We waste the fruit
And eat the rind
Makin' hell on earth
In search of Paradise
'Cause it's the human condition
It's the human condition

Long ago, but they wrote it down
He was born in a little town
Visited by three wise men
I wonder if they knew how it would end.

The chosen people said he wasn’t theirs
The Roman ruler washed his hands of it
They hung him up where people could see
What happens to a revolutionary.

Skip ahead a thousand years
His sacrifice provided cause,
For murder, theft and roguery.

Religious teachers spread confusion
Creating madness and delusion
For they know not of the thing they speak

They promise us eternal life
Deliver us to endless strife
And advocate a strong defence.

The years advance
But we regress
Humanity cannot progress
Until we get up off our knees.

It's the human condition
It's the human condition
Tooth for tooth
Eye for eye
That's why the whole world
Has gone blind
We waste the fruit
And eat the rind
Makin' hell on earth
In search of Paradise
'Cause it's the human condition
It's the human condition

So stop your worshiping of other gods
And bow your heads to each other
Take the gold from the priestly class
Give it to our children and mothers

Stop contributing to our destruction
Let’s save the world for our children
Say no to the priest’s seduction
And put the Pope on welfare

Let’s try to build a human future
Get rid of the mental cancer --
Life could have a fighting chance

A warning at the vital hour
Could save us from the worst disaster
Change the course of history

Let’s change the human condition
Let’s change the human condition
No more tooth for tooth
No more eye for eye
No more killing
In the land of the blind
We’ll eat the fruit and
Compost the rind
Make Heaven on earth
To hell with
Let’s change the human condition
Let’s change the human condition
Let’s change the human condition


PostPosted: Sat Sep 21, 2013 2:55 am
by admin
Factors, by Charles Carreon

> Lama in town
> Weather cold & windy
> Coffee
> Grass
> Cognac
> Christmas food
> War-weariness re work
> Stunted creativity re lawpoets
> Hardcore rock and roll
> Eating pastas and pastries
> Wall outside my office window
> Pizza
> Cops <off-duty>
> Wall Street Journal
> Debt
> Revising one document until it's a psychic shred
> Dreaming of lying at the bottom of a pool
> Grasping at something uncertain
> Beautiful sky and light <can't grasp sky or light or beautifulness ... anxiety>
> Speed ... from one event to another
> Suffering of others ...
my business,
not my business
> Good boy
Bad boy
> Smart-aleck LA Weekly (Weakly?)
> Topic of discussion ... discourse on relative concepts ... clever talkers shut up!
> Muscular efforts to "make it"
> It only works for a while
> All breaks down eventually
(then you build it up again)
> Nihilism
(I made my mind up about nihilism the other day but now I can't remember what I decided)
> Reinvent the wheel
(Why not? Get back to basics.)
> Clever ... doesn't matter if I'm clever, I don't need to hustle girls anymore; nobody listens or cares (or if they do, what does it matter?)
> The boring that folks do stays after they leave; the cleverness is oft forgotten with the slamming of their departure
> Impute, impute, impute
meaning to things ...
oh yes ... this makes a
Difference ... a big, big Difference.
> What makes a difference?
Lying down in a warm bed
Having peaceful vibes in your heart
Treating other people decently
Being able to bear sorrow
Without inflicting it on others.

12/26/88, Los Angeles, California


PostPosted: Sat Sep 21, 2013 2:58 am
by admin
Four Stars, by Charles Carreon


In an hour of darkness
In an hour of grief
When we look to the news
And find no relief

A clown in the White House
Rules a vampire ball
Where the blood flows freely
Right through the halls

A front man is needed
For the main freak show
So out to the barracks
They presently go

They find a pliable man
With shoulders like stone
Who says what he means
And does what he’s told

And he’s got FOUR STARS
That General Petraeus
That’s four more than you
That’s enough to betray us
So what you gonna do?

When the refugees are in millions
And the prison’s filled with innocents
When car bombs detonate routinely
Still criticism’s unseemly

When a man with a multi-colored map
Sits down and tells you where it’s at
And answers every question
In just the perfect way
You gotta say

That’s why he’s got
Good ole General Petraeus
What’s that mean to you?
That’s enough to betray us
Just enough to pull us through

When history judges men
It does so with a mighty pen
A name may be forgotten
Or forever engraved in stone

For villainy, for virtue
For loyalty or treason,
For General Petraeus
They won’t have to find a reason

They’ll say he had
That he used to betray us
And a shell game on the news
Yeah that General Petraeus
That’s four more than you
New York Times, September 10, 2007

Cooking the Books for the White House


General Petraeus is a military man constantly at war with the facts. In 2004, just before the election, he said there was "tangible progress" in Iraq and that "Iraqi leaders are stepping forward." And last week Petraeus, the architect of the escalation of troops in Iraq, said, "We say we have achieved progress, and we are obviously going to do everything we can to build on that progress."

Every independent report on the ground situation in Iraq shows that the surge strategy has failed. Yet the General claims a reduction in violence. That's because, according to the New York Times, the Pentagon has adopted a bizarre formula for keeping tabls on violence. For example, deaths by car bombs don't count. The Washington Post reported that assassinations only count if you're shot in the back of the head -- not the front. According to the Associated Press, there have been more civilian deaths and more American soldier deaths in the past three months than in any other summer we've been there. We'll hear of neighborhoods where violence has decreased. But we won't hear that those neighborhoods have been ethnically cleansed.

Most importantly, General Petraeus will not admit what everyone knows: Iraq is mired in an unwinnable religious civil war. We may hear of a plan to withdraw a few thousand American troops. But we won't hear what Americans are desperate to hear, a timetable for withdrawing all our troops. General Petraeus has actually said American troops will need to stay in Iraq for as long as ten years.

Today, before Congress and before the American people, General Petraeus is likely to become General Betray Us. POLITICAL ACTION

Paid for by Political Action,, not authorized by any candidate or candidate's committee.


PostPosted: Sat Sep 21, 2013 3:02 am
by admin
Freak, by Charles Carreon

My ass is wrapped in plastic ...
This nipple's plastic, too,
And all the food they feed me is
mushy, pasty goo.
My parents don't seem to talk a lot,
They sit and watch a glowing box;
I'm stuck inside this plastic cage,
The only one who acts his age.
I don't know why it is so stupid here;
There's dullness everywhere --
It seeps inside me day by day
And though I scream won't go away.
I haven't really learned
to form these questions in my head,
But like something out of focus,
Coming nearer every day,
I get this nasty feeling
That things won't go my way.
Now years have passed
and I have learned to speak
 and wipe my butt;
So now it's time to go to school --
An ugly place -- so what?
Mom works and works and now she's
getting wrinkles in her face --
Dad seems so tired when he comes home --
He sits in just one place.
And now it's growing louder
All this racket in my skull --
Please get in line, don't touch those things,
Please try to think; it's time to sing.
I'm a schoolboy, and I'm really thinking
'bout Nancy's underwear; I'm a schoolboy,
but they treat me like a convict everywhere.
Now nailed inside this TV coffin,
I'd like to die; I'm seventeen.
She turned me down one too often,
And I've been smoking too much weed.
The world outside my window's glum,
I won't get a job because I'm too dumb
The shoes aren't hip,
My face has zits
And my whole life is in the pits.
I'm a teenage nervous breakdown,
My karma is givin' me the shakedown;
If I had two horns I couldn't be weirder;
I hate that face in the mirror --
Don't know how I got hooked up with it
Between me and him, we're a losing pair --
Even schoolchildren stop and stare
And say "Freak, he's a weirdo;"
They aren't afraid of me --
Please let me out oh god if you are there;
Since I was a child I've looked
for you everywhere --
The nuns were fronts for a hollow scam,
And the Pope doesn't yell about Vietnam;
The whole damn earth just holds me down
And businessmen scare me with their frowns.
I'm a freak -- a weirdo --
A loser at the starting gate --
Freak -- a weirdo -- Don't worry
'bout me, I'm always late, Don't worry 'bout
me, I can't get a date; Don't worry 'bout
me, Don't worry, Don't worry 'bout me.
(Winter, 1986 at ML&B office)


PostPosted: Sat Sep 21, 2013 3:03 am
by admin
From a Dream, by Charles Carreon

I dreamt of one of my ancestors, an Ainsa from the colonial era, that he was writing this --

"I have been pictured in reports wearing arms and carrying a musket, but I must clarify that I was never one of those valientes who fought for the King with weapons, and should not be so honored. All of my service has been with my quill pen, keeping records of the stocks of material and other properties of the King, which I did to the best of my ability.

And as for the meteorites that have been in our keeping, though it is said they fell from the stars, we do not know this to be their origin, for we did not see them fall, and if they did, we cannot explain how they came to be in the sky, so it is only conjecture from their molten appearance. As for those who say they fell from the buckets of angels sent to stoke the fire of the stars, we cannot know, but the notion seems far-fetched."


PostPosted: Sat Sep 21, 2013 3:05 am
by admin
Fuck the NWO, by Charles Carreon


From the Lair of the
Defense Command
Comes the order
Destroy all men
Destroy all creatures
That walk on two
Legs are verboten
And tits are, too.

How it began
we can't recall
First we drove them
Now they drive us all
We're like cattle
And they're the prod
Lay down and worship
The mechanical god

Do you remember
when we used to play
In the land called the USA?
Little children
and mothers too
On the swings in the skies of blue
Then there came that
Terrible day
When they burned
the skies away

Now it's black
from border to border
You know the law
It says we torture
Stay inside
Till the curfew's over
We're rounding up
some terrorists
So where's your son?
He's on the list

Wake up Wake up
The bad dream's over
Wake up, wake up,
We crossed the border
Wake up, wake up,
We killed the monster
Wake up little child
And hug your father

Oh no you don't
You little shit
You thought you'd get
Away with it
We caught you now
The fun is over
Your little friends
Your little games
Your big ideas
They're to blame.

In the movie
The hero finds
the great device
Plants it behind
the monster's eyes
Pulls the pin
And pays the price
Then it's off
to paradise

So this is it
The brand new order
No one is Free
Where are your papers?
This isn't you
In this picture
These prints are fake
she's not your sister
You're just another
war resister

You should have stood
When you had the chance
Now you're a victim
of circumstance
They give the orders
And you kneel down
Last thing you feel
Is the stony ground
Just wish you could have

Fuck you
And your fucking order
Your fucking guns
And fucking borders
Fuck you and your dollar bill
Fuck you and your torture skills
You'll have to kill me
to shut me up
Does anybody
Wanna back me up?

(Summer, Tucson 2009)


PostPosted: Sat Sep 21, 2013 3:07 am
by admin
Gargoyle, by Charles Carreon


A gargoyle face
Greeted me This Morning.
I patted its leering chops,
and it purred.
Heavy paws on my chest
eased back and the stone colored face
Turned feline gold.
The growl, the warm breath on my
Is the rising sun.


PostPosted: Sat Sep 21, 2013 3:08 am
by admin
Ghost Sheriff, by Charles Carreon

Fire the police force of your mind,
Those restless enforcers
wearing the badge of selfhood.

Their ceaseless stopping and interrogating
of vagrant thoughts
will not clean up the streets
of your mind, but only fill up
the jails of your suppressed impulses.

Let all thoughts walk freely
in this ghost-town,
And abandon the busy stock exchange
where desirable and undesirable
projections are traded
for dollars that have no worth

The broad voice of emptiness
Echoes through the disappearing landscape,
and tattered things
are blowing away in the wind.

Good riddance to bad rubbish--
Empty space and
the burn barrel take the lot of it.


PostPosted: Sat Sep 21, 2013 3:12 am
by admin
Glimpsed in the Mirror of Dreams, by Charles Carreon


Doing battle with you a thousand times ...
Damnable maiden,
Your excuse is youth,
But the bitterness remains.

No quarter ever given
in this game ...
True bloodsport
if there ever was
such a thing ...
After love,
The stalking,
The hunting,
The heart-destroying,
The burning,
The feast.

To compare with
Your eyes,
Wolves on a winter
Night would seem warm.

Now darkness falls
And I perceive
A grimmer silhouette,
A trick of light,
A shadow here,
But no there's something yet,
An intimation,
Dim and drear
Of purpose strangely set,
A chill, a subtle
Taste of fear
That good minds
Will forget.