On the Road to Satori – The Ru’nes of the Colorado


route 66 by mezaka


The Ru’nes of the Colorado


the End of the Dream…


we rode underneath a fire-red sun
the heat waves rose from our wheels
the desert was hot and dry as we drove
in our dusty automobile

the sun ricocheted into the horizon and oblivion
the air crackled dry with sagebrush and dirt
squashed by the burning sun

we rode the desert in search of satori
but ended our quest with roast beef on rye
and beer to quench our thirst; as we made our way West
from one roadhouse to the next

five hundred horses
pulled our wagon through the dunes
left no fear of dying as we drove through
the canyons and the ru’nes

palm treed groves that look
like Eden welcome you to Los Angeles
they are a relief from the desert and the grief
across the burning desert sands and
the desecrated Indian lands

now we sit
back tip back tequila
on San Pedro Bay

we followed the sunset
from the east coast to the sea
and watch it fall away


Beneath an August Moon – Chorus






It was not so long ago that I fell in love with you.
I didn’t realize I was entering a world of broken-heartache blues.

I was so young I couldn’t see
the fool I would become when you told me
“Love is like a flower, and must be picked
while it’s in bloom.”

I cried the nights away, and choked on misery,
while you went riding with your angel out of hell,
and away from me.

Oh, how could one man take so much pain;
and not end up scattered on the sidewalks
in the pouring rain?

I got the spontaneous heartbreak blues;
when you opened the door and handed me my shoes;
and an ear full of second thoughts
and sweet adieus…

I  got the spontaneous heartbreak blues;
and a barrel full of uncountable shoes;
with holes in the bottoms
from walking these riverside rues.

And so the story goes;
like all sad stories I suppose.
I could not see how one man’s dreams;
the facts could slap him in the face so cold.

I  ran up and down the streets calling out your name;
I stammered and stuttered and shuddered in shame;
and I climbed that bridge to the waters of escape,
but I knew it could only bring
tears of joy to you.

I  got the spontaneous heartbreak blues;
and I  shook my fist at that big yellow moon;
that hung like a bare light bulb,
above this August loon.

The Carnival – Airplane Mahogany: Reprise




Airplane Mahogany
come riding down
while sunset strips of Fellaheen gold
laced the crystal peak mountains
with countless horizons
of woe.

We sat in the back
of my new pickup roadster
and knocked the gear shift out of whack;
while the alcoholic blare of the AM band
blew holes in my eardrums and splintered and cracked
the bottoms of my new two-toned shoes.

And Glory! Cried Orly
the Greek from the Geek Show,
as though tied to my ribbons; Don’t you know,
somebody’s got to believe; In what? Said I;

and lied to the sky,
tho’ it knew my intentions,
it wasn’t that sure who I was.
Nothin’ doin’! said Chewin’ The Fat;
as we sat in the back
of my new Ford pickup roadster.

And Golly! Said Wally,
Don’t stall anymore;
Why don’t you write them your song?
When along came a flare! From who knows where?
And shattered my brand new windshield!

Crack! Splash! Sprinkled glass—

And that was the last I heard
Of Wally, Orly or Chewin’ The Fat; as we sat in the back
of my new Ford pickup roadster.

And now, Airplane Mahogany
don’t shine like it used to;
it glitters like gold from the five-and-ten store.
And no one will meet me in the back anymore;
when I come with a scoreboard of chances;
and try to tell them the score.

And sometimes
I hear footsteps behind me and look
for Wally and Orly and Chewin’ The Fat;
but that don’t seem like a likely experience,
they’ll never be back this way again.


And Airplane Mahogany
don’t shine like it used to;
Airplane Mahogany don’t sparkle like wine;
and Airplane Mahogany no longer sparkles
my mind.


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