ETERNITIES MUST END

From the Book: The Go Go Dancer who Stole My Viagra & other Poetic Tragedies of Thailand

*******************************************
 

"I hear your wife just up and left"
He said it with a grin;
I made a fist and in a flash
His blood ran down his chin.

Then when he rose and drew a knife
I knew I'd crossed the line;
But when more blood spilled on the floor
I knew it wasn't mine.

The barkeep said the man's hurt bad
I said, "He isn't dead";
And when he warned the Law might show
I turned to him and said:

"Just pour Wild Turkey in my glass
It keeps my devils still;
Just pour Wild Turkey in my glass
'Cause if you won't I will.

The barkeep wiped the counter dry
and spoke with bogus cheer:
"I think you've had enough, my man,
How 'bout you nurse a beer?"

I said, "You know it's New Year's eve
You know they've closed the mine;
You know the sheriff stole my wife
I've got some walls to climb.

I said to him (or all of them
My vision wasn't clear);
"Just pour Wild Turkey in my glass
And leave the bottle here.

Just pour Wild Turkey in my glass
It keeps my devils still;
Just pour Wild Turkey in my glass
'Cause if you won't I will.

A man stood close beside my stool
And set the barkeep straight;
Said if a man requests a drink;
He does not want debate.

I turned and thanked the stranger then
For coming to my aid;
He smiled and said he understood
and that my tab was paid:

"I need no proof of your intent
To liven up this town;
I'll pour Wild Turkey in your glass
And set the bottle down.

"I'll pour Wild Turkey in your glass
It keeps your devils still;
I'll pour Wild Turkey in your glass
The devil with the bill."

And then I glimpsed a silver star
and heard an angry voice;
And understood the sheriff say
He's giving me no choice.

He said, "stand up and cross the bar
and walk right out the door";
I'd soon get used to nights locked up
My bed - the jailhouse floor.

I said, and here my memory fails
but others testify;
"Just pour Wild Turkey in my glass
Unless you want to die.

Just pour Wild Turkey in my glass
It keeps my devils still;
Just pour Wild Turkey in my glass
'Cause if you won't I will."

"All right," he said, "It's time to go;
I think you've had your fun";
And next I knew my finger pulled
the trigger on his gun.

The hangin' judge he got his wish
The case won't be appealed;
So when I rose to speak my piece
I knew my fate was sealed.

I said I'm ready to be hanged
As quiet as a mouse;
"Just pour Wild Turkey in my glass
And drinks are on the house.

Just pour Wild Turkey in my glass
It keeps my devils still;
Just pour Wild Turkey in my glass
'Cause if you won't I will."

It wasn't long before they came
I had one final meal;
They gave me milk to wash it down
And laughed at my ordeal.

I felt the rope around my neck
And slept a thousand winks;
And then I saw the devil's face -
The man who'd bought me drinks.

The devil reached above his cape
And gave a practiced smile;
He pulled a bottle from mid-air
And said, "Let's drink a while.

Just pour Wild Turkey in your glass
The devil with the bill;
Just pour Wild Turkey in your glass
'Cause if you won't I will.

Just pour Wild Turkey in your glass
And have a drink on me;
We'll paint the town a brimstone brown
For all eternity.”

It was down in Bixon Bay, just outside of Santa Fe,
And it happened in the early fall;
Or it might have been the spring, but the man of whom I sing
Was a legend in every billiard hall.

Ever' Friday night at ten, you would see him there again,
shootin' pool at a table in the back;
All his clothes were thin and torn, and his shoes were old and worn,
and his cue stick was taken off the rack.

Any table he could run, but he would only play for fun,
and he would speak in his friendly southern drawl;
"We'll play any game you choose, but you know I never lose"
He was the man they called Eight Ball.

It had just begun to pour, when a man came in the door,
and his eyes were shielded from the light;
As a fury gripped his face, he unzipped his cuestick case,
and I knew this would be a special night.

It grew still as he passed by, a strange look was in his eye,
it was clear that the man was filled with hate;
With his cuestick in his hand, (Balabushka was his brand),
he was known as the best stick in the state.

Any table he could run, but he would only play for fun,
and he would speak in his friendly southern drawl;
"We'll play any game you choose, but you know I never lose"
He was the man they called Eight Ball.

He strode right across the room, like a harbinger of doom,
and he stopped at a table in the back;
Where a man whose clothes were torn, and whose shoes were old and worn,
made his shots with a cue stick off the rack.

He said, "Eight Ball, now at last, we will settle up our past,
after so many years again we meet;
If you're all the man they say, and you're man enough to play,
then tonight you will have your first defeat."

Any table he could run, but he would only play for fun,
and he would speak in his friendly southern drawl;
"We'll play any game you choose, but you know I never lose"
He was the man they called Eight Ball.

Eight Ball smiled and scratched his head, to the man he calmly said,
"If I saw your face I don't recall;
But we'll play the game your way, may the best man win today,"
and the news of the match spread through the hall.

Well, they named a handsome stake, and the stranger won the break,
and they played then as other men make war;
By the time the games were done, forty-nine to fifty-one,
Morning sunlight was streaking in the door.

Any table he could run, but he would only play for fun,
and he would speak in his friendly southern drawl;
"We'll play any game you choose, but you know I never lose"
He was the man they called Eight Ball.

Eight Ball poured himself a drink, and said, "Son, I used to think,
that no man could beat me at this game;
Something's odd about your play, but you humbled me today,
I'd be honored if I could know your name."

Then the man said with a sigh, looking Eight Ball in the eye,
"It was you who once taught me all I know;
Nothing's odd about my play, it's like yours in every way,
I'm the son you left many years ago."

Any table he could run, but he would only play for fun,
and he would speak in his friendly southern drawl;
"We'll play any game you choose, but you know I never lose"
He was the man they called Eight Ball.

Then the man pulled out a gun, and said, "Thanks to what you've done,
mother passed her last years as a whore;
I have dreamed a thousand nights, that I'd have you in my sights,
Now at last I can even up the score.

And without another word, an explosive sound was heard,
And the bullet lodged deep in Eight Ball's chest;
No one dared to interfere, but as smoke began to clear,
Eight Ball mustered the strength he still possessed.

Any table he could run, but he would only play for fun,
and he would speak in his friendly southern drawl;
"We'll play any game you choose, but you know I never lose"
He was the man they called Eight Ball.

Eight Ball knew his life was through, but said, "Son, it isn't true;
I was out when she took you away;
Leaving you was not my plan, she had found another man,
I have prayed that I'd find you both one day."

As his death was coming fast, Eight Ball spoke these words, his last,
he said, "Now, all my playing time is done;
You love anyone you choose, just make sure you never lose,"
and he died with his arms around his son.

Any table he could run, but he would only play for fun,
and he would speak in his friendly southern drawl;
"We'll play any game you choose, but you know I never lose"
He was the man they called Eight Ball.
He was the man they called Eight Ball.
He was the man they called Eight Ball.

(This song might open and close with the sound of clicking pool balls in play)

Plastic ribbons. Plastic ribbons.
With coats of iron oxide;
Plastic ribbons. Plastic ribbons.
Hurting me inside.

Remember when we talked that night,
I kissed the ribbon in your hair;
And now a tape deck's silly ribbon
makes me believe you're standing there.
It's been so long, with time I know
I might forget your face.
If only these fingers could find the strength
to play back and erase.

Plastic ribbons. Plastic ribbons.
With coats of iron oxide;
Plastic ribbons. Plastic ribbons.
Hurting me inside.

I wrapped your coat around your arms,
you said you'd be my bride,
And now I weep at vows we made
on coats of iron oxide.
I know the days, I know the hours,
the minutes we've been apart.
How many watts does a speaker need
to crush a broken heart.

Plastic ribbons. Plastic ribbons.
With coats of iron oxide.
Plastic ribbons. Plastic ribbons.
Hurting me inside.

I tried more treble to numb the ache,
and then the bass in turn;
But my fingers can't help themselves
until my heart begins to learn.
These particles of pain record
and move from spool to spool,
And the latest sounds are amplified
for the oldest kind of fool.

Plastic ribbons. Plastic ribbons.
With coats of iron oxide.
Plastic ribbons. Plastic ribbons.
Hurting me inside.
Hurting me inside.

(If woman singer: "You kissed the ribbon in my hair" "You said I'd be your bride")

A walrus lived on a cool iceberg
He loved to slide and play;
Then catch a fish and shine his tusks
and pass his time away.

One day a thought passed through his mind
and filled his soul with dread;
"Hey, man, if this thing ever melts,
like, man, I'm gonna' be dead!"

And at the thought of his demise
the walrus sat and cried;
And forgot that icebergs built to last
are frozen stiff inside.

But as his tears fell on the ice
the ice began to melt;
And as his fears were realized
the worse the walrus felt.

The falling tears, the melting ice,
it seemed one caused the other;
And soon the walrus wished he'd stayed
and caught fish for his mother.

The iceberg finally disappeared
it went without a sound;
The walrus shed a last great tear
and then was promptly drowned.

The moral of the story
is a firm but simple rule:
A walrus on a cool iceberg
had better keep his cool.

Araham sammasambuddho bhagava
Buddham bhagavantam abhivademi
Bodhesi yo sujanatam kamalam va suro
Vandamaham tamaranam sirasa jinendam

It was in a tiny Buddhist temple
And on a very quiet day;
The monks had done their deeds of merit
And settled down to pray.

The candlelight reflected on
The Buddha's golden gleam;
And wafts of incense reached the roof
In one unbroken stream.

Above the sky was bathed in twilight
And temple bells pealed in the breeze;
Below the monks in robes of saffron
Chanted sutras on their knees.

The first to see the silent figure
Thought it odd he'd heard no door;
And yet the figure watched intently
As no mere man had watched before.

Then slowly as if in a dream
The figure moved and stood beside
The Buddha's calm eternal gaze
And in mid-verse, the monks' chants died.

The stranger moved as if to kiss
The idol's lips and ask for grace;
Then in a moment as all sounds ceased
He spat upon the Buddha's face.

The monks cried out and rose as one
To seize the man who dared defile
The glory of their sacred idol
But stopped like babes before his smile.

He stared into each monk's wide eyes
His words like holy writ;
"Show me where Buddha is not," he said,
And there then will I spit."

The monks knelt down before the man
And asked that he forgive
Their sin of knowing all the rites
But forgetting how to live.

The man reached out his hand and smiled
He bade them pray and as he spoke
They seemed to slip into a dream
The man was gone when they awoke.

I tell this tale because it's true
Don't ask me how I know;
Just ask the monks whose teacher spoke
In a tiny temple - so long ago.

Araham sammasambuddho bhagava
Buddham bhagavantam abhivademi
Bodhesi yo sujanatam kamalam va suro
Vandamaham tamaranam sirasa jinendam

In the background of this song (even before the lyrics are sung, during the song and at the end of the song) is Buddhist chanting as in a Thai temple. The lines chanted in Pali mean:

The Exalted One, far from defilements, perfectly enlightened by himself
I bow low before the Buddha, the Exalted One
He, like the sun with lotuses, awakens wise people
I revere with my head the (spiritual) Conqueror Supreme, that Peaceful one

You had the curlers in your hair
He had a date with your big sister;
You couldn't help your gaping stare
You blushed and called him, "Mister."

When next he came, your sister cried
And in your heart you knew;
And even felt a selfish pride
When he said, "I came for you."

You couldn't sleep at all that night
You only saw his laughing eyes;
Your sister said it wasn't right
But first love knows no compromise.

Eternal love is what you felt
So how could you pretend;
But a foreign war was burning and
Eternities must end, girl,
Eternities must end.
Eternitites must end, girl,
Eternitites must end.

He held you tightly in his arms
And spoke gently from above;
How still the sounds of all the world
When together you made love.

He fell asleep in darkened light
His head against your breasts;
You kissed his face and gently moved
From where his body pressed.

The world outside was full of hate
You didn't want to hear;
The day he wore his uniform
You could almost taste your fear.

It seemed like an eternity
Your heart he'd break and mend;
But a foreign war was burning and
Eternities must end, girl,
Eternities must end.
Eternities must end, girl,
Eternities must end.

You couldn't believe you'd be alone
He laughed and kissed each tear;
His only fear of a battle zone
Was running out of beer.

That crazy look, the tilted head,
How could you not give in;
And let his soothing words deny
What you already knew within.

You had the curlers in your hair
His leader's words came first;
The letter shook as if your hands
Already knew the worst.

His bravery saved the writer's life
And the life of his best friend;
But you know what the letter means:
Eternitites must end, girl,
Eternitites must end.
Eternitites must end, girl,
Eternitites must end.

Eternitites must end, girl,
Eternitites must end.
Eternitites must end, girl,
Eternitites must end.

Water and sky...
Water and sky...
The ocean reflects
and absorbs the night sky.
Once we were bound
like water and sky.

Once the tide mirrored
our golden sunrise;
But now the tide ebbs
on our final goodbyes.

I hear the wind whisper:
"She'll be back...by and by";
And then the gulls cry:
"Don't you know that's a lie?"

Water and sky...
Water and sky...
The ocean reflects
and absorbs the night sky.
Once we were bound
like water and sky.

Alone on the sand dunes
another love dies;
as sounds of the sea
hide one man's futile cries.

And the lapping waves sigh
like a lost lullaby;
and each passing ship
asks only why...
And each passing ship
asks only why...

(This song might open and close with sounds of surf and seagulls a bit like the old classic "Ebb Tide")

The ambulance started
and sped through the night;
My mother was pregnant
and she held my hand tight.

Soon after delivery
I heard my mom say:
"You've got a kid brother"
and then mom passed away.

My dad blamed my brother
I didn't agree;
My dad hit the bottle
and then sometimes hit me.

CHORUS

The factory toolshop
where dad worked was slow;
Dad fought with the foreman
and the boss let him go.

I played with my brother
he played with his toys;
But dad would get angry
if we made any noise.

My dad's gun collection
was kept in the hall;
With pistols and rifles
and he'd hunt in the fall.

CHORUS

The day I went shopping
my dad wasn't home;
My brother grew restless
and explored on his own.

The cupboard was open
the gun had no lock;
His fingers tried pulling
but the gun wouldn't cock.

He turned the gun over
his thumbs pulled instead;
That's why the gun's muzzle
was so close to his head.

CHORUS

The ambulance started
and sped through the night;
My brother was bleeding
and he held my hand tight.

I had a kid brother
my dad had a gun;
The gun was left loaded
now I'm dad's only son.

"Guns never kill people"
so lots of folks say;
Don't tell my kid brother
He was buried today.

CHORUS

((I suggest an instrumental chorus with musical sounds approximating gunfire or a mix of music with actual sounds of gunfire, the song ending with just one shot.
We might also hear an actual tape recording of a child on the phone crying to his mother that he has been shot and cannot move his legs (which actually exists)))

One early morning in Canton City
A girl on a bike, both prim and pretty
Rode into my early morning view
Wearing clothes both baggy and blue
Wearing clothes both baggy and blue.

Hey, Blue Jacket, please be my wife
And ride beside me, all my life;
I'll serve the people, and I'll serve you
But if you won't love me, I'm the one who's blue.

Your charming smile and dark brown eyes
So you're a socialist; so let's socialize;
Now as a color blue is fine
But only if you say you'll be mine.

Hey, Blue Jacket, please be my wife
And ride beside me, all my life;
I'll serve the people, and I'll serve you
But if you won't love me, I'm the one who's blue.

Your cheeks were glowing, your pigtails plaited
It's time to get you expatriated;
One billion people, and they're still not done
With so many people, they won't miss one.

Hey, Blue Jacket, please be my wife
And ride beside me, all my life;
I'll serve the people, and I'll serve you
But if you won't love me, I'm the one who's blue.

The Gang of Four has come and gone
So it's time for barbeques on the lawn;
Mao's thoughts weren't wrong, just lost in translation
So switch to a 12-speed and the Pepsi generation.

Hey, Blue Jacket, please be my wife
And ride beside me, all my life;
I'll serve the people, and I'll serve you
But if you won't love me, I'm the one who's blue.
If you won't love me, I'm the one who's blue.

It was raining on Canal Street
When Michael Lee was born
And Michael's mother wept upon the filthy bed;
It was raining on Canal Street
When Michael Lee was born
And by the time the rain had stopped his mom was dead.

In the Hour of the Dragon
When Michael Lee was born
A child began his life a stranger and alone;
He grew up in angry alleys
But Michael made a vow
That by the time he died his name would be well known.

Many years passed on Canal Street
And Michael joined a gang
And took his sacred vows beneath the God of War;
He was tattooed with a dragon
And drank of rooster's blood
But as the incense burned he heard a dragon roar:

Beware the Hour of the Dragon!
In the leap Year of the Snake!
When the falcon slays the phoenix
Then the God of War will wake!

And when the unicorn emerges!
And immortals pass away!
You will surely ride the tiger
Through the Cycle of Cathay!

There were gang wars on Canal Street
And Michael aimed his gun
But when the teenage boy refused to beg or flee;
Michael stopped his men from shooting
And Michael said, "My friend,
Your anger makes me think of how I used to be."

It was raining on Canal Street
When Michael asked his friend
To kneel beside the magic symbols on the floor;
Michael called him "Little Brother"
And gave him serpent's blood
And heard his sacred vows beneath the God of War.

As the years passed death would beckon
But Michael Lee was tough
And with his gang he never had to step aside;
Then a merchant begged for mercy
But Michael used his gun
And by the time the sirens wailed the man had died.

Beware the Hour of the Dragon!
In the leap Year of the Snake!
When the falcon slays the phoenix
Then the God of War will wake!

And when the unicorn emerges!
And immortals pass away!
You will surely ride the tiger
Through the Cycle of Cathay!

He hid out in angry alleys
But Michael Lee was sure
His friend would honor all the vows they made that night;
It was quiet on Canal Street
As men unlocked their guns
And Michael's room was filled with blinding beams of light.

In the Hour of the Dragon
The policemen called his name
They shot him as he ran beside an alley wall;
It was raining on Canal Street
And Michael Lee could see
The rain drops wash his blood as fast as they could fall.

It was raining on Canal Street
And Michael Lee could hear
The priest beside him kneel and pray eternal grace;
It was raining on Canal Street
And Michael Lee was dead
His only friend had turned him in to take his place.

Beware the Hour of the Dragon!
In the leap Year of the Snake!
When the falcon slays the phoenix
Then the God of War will wake!

And when the unicorn emerges!
And immortals pass away!
You will surely ride the tiger
Through the Cycle of Cathay!

(Repeat chorus - Fade out)

O Chiang Mai child-woman
With breasts that please
Like freshly ripened similes.

Have you forgotten me?

I was the wide-bodied tourist
On the wide-bodied plane
With the wide-angled lens
And the box of chow mein.

O Chiang Mai child-woman
My memory soars
When thinking of your succulent metaphors.

Have you forgotten me?

I braved the wonders of:

Sliding seatbelt buckles
Decaffeinated coffee
Calorie-free sweeteners
Occupied lavatories
Ominous oxygen masks
Compact food trays
Embarrassing middle seats
Endless air pockets
Incomprehensible life vests

and

Ogled stewardess' knees
To find you.

Have you forgotten me?

O Chiang Mai child-woman
My soul repents
When longing for your erotic innocence.

You left the wonders of:

Bleary-eyed water buffalo
Eternally ringing temple bells
Endless green ricefields
Village settings
Festival dances
Sacred spirits
Riverside baths
Timeless rituals
Countryside quiet
and
Glutinous rice with lotus seeds, peas, pork and ham

To meet me.

Have you forgotten me?

You left
the Four Noble Truths
and
Eightfold Path
For
A wafer-thin computer
And gold credit card
It wasn't hard - I had to laugh.

But cried
Inside.

O Chiang Mai child-woman
Heavy hearts have mourned no more
For those who passed death's awesome door
Than I have mourned a girl inside
Your being - whom I know has died.

O Chiang Mai child-woman

Have you forgiven me?

The man I love is home on leave
I've got to sing about him;
For thirteen months he's been away
And I've been lost without him.

I never knew a woman could
Miss a man the way I do;
I love him for the little things
Now I'd like to sing to you.

He stands in shafts of sunlight,
And jettisons his jeans;
He's Private John B. Tarryton,
United States Marines.

He tries to drink a glass of beer
But finds his head's grown wider;
But when he's teased, he smiles and says:
"I'd like a glass of cider."

He tells tall tales of girls he met,
And how they always phone;
But every time he passes by,
He passes by alone.

He stands in shafts of sunlight
And jettisons his jeans;
He's Private John B. Tarryton,
United States Marines.

He thinks he's strong and tough as nails,
And hopes his friends all know it;
But if they don't he doesn't mind,
If he's not asked to show it.

But what I love is how we love,
In the afternoon's late light;
He stands before the window pane,
With a child's sense of delight.

He stands in shafts of sunlight,
And jettisons his jeans;
He's Private John B. Tarryton,
United States Marines.

I watch him stand and let the sun
Pour over all his skin;
And then he turns and steals my heart
With a shy and boyish grin.

At last he crawls into our bed,
Soon he and I are one;
And shafts of sunlight fill the room
And he warms me like the sun.

He stands in shafts of sunlight,
And jettisons his jeans;
He's Private John B. Tarryton,
United States Marines.

He stands in shafts of sunlight,
And jettisons his jeans;
He's Private John B. Tarryton,
United States Marines.

On strike! Shut it down! Power to the people!
On strike! Shut it down! Power to the people!
On strike! Shut it down! Power to the people!

American woman. San Francisco State College. 1968.
You were so beautiful!

You were watching Joan Baez; and I was watching you
After a while
you returned my smile
You called me over and asked if I had any grass;
just a stick;
I thought to myself, the hell with picketing class
and called you a 'far out chick;'
And we went off and made love.

You were so free!
FREE THE CHICAGO SEVEN!
Pigs off campus!
Hell, no, we won't go!
Hey, hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?!
Hey, hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?!

American woman. San Francisco State College. 1968.
You were so beautiful!

Your long black hair and oh, that smile! When we smoked grass it made me laugh all night;
you couldn't sleep and we would fight;
then make love
From somewhere in the darkness, a voice from far, far away said: Grooovy.
And it was.

"Your rally is illegal. I order you to disperse immediately in the name of the people of the state of California!"

Six hundred frenzied police assembling on campus; snarling dogs! helicopters overhead;
Ronald Reagan governor; Freedom dead!
Incoming!
Power to the people!

That's it, traitor, go to class!
Kiss Uncle Tom Hayakawa's ass!

Incoming!
You lay on the soggy lawn holding your stomach where the police baton had hit. Each time you inhaled, your face contorted in pain
I watched your tears
stream over your ears
and onto the torn placard; in the rain
Your hair, full of grass and twigs, spilled out onto the lawn. You groaned softly with each breath:
The bastards...the bastards...

"They're charging again! Run! Watch out for the clubs!" I covered your body with my own
They swung. My head!...
But I laughed at the pain because I knew: We were changing the world!

And the world changed. And the world changed us. And I left.
And the years passed and you left
And the decades passed.

But then I saw you!
Just the other day! Here! Here in New York on the street!
I couldn't believe it! But it was you.

I laughed and said: Hey, lady:
'On strike! Shut it down! Power to the people!'

I figured we’d talk about the Vietnamese
and helping the poor get up off their knees

But you shook your head as if that scene were dead
and as you spoke just below a shout
your main concerns seemed to be about -
'Relationships! Commitment! Communication!’

The mantra of the new American religion:
‘Relationships! Commitment! Communication!'

And I said: 'Hey! Lighten up! It's me! Come on, let's have lunch!'

And you said, you had an appointment with your support group and, anyway, your therapist said that during that whole time you were with me at San Francisco State College we were in a dysfunctional relationship and you were actually...
a victim!

Victim? I said, 'my god, you were such a far out chick!'

You said, that's not politically correct, you chauvinist prick!
And would you kindly keep that cigarette smoke away from my face!
Don't you know it causes cancer?!...
And you left...
without a trace...

American woman. San Francisco State College. 1968.
You were so beautiful!

And wasn't that a very special time to be young and alive...
weren't you also so very special and young and alive...

American woman. San Francisco State College. 1968.
How much...
how much I still love you....

And, for the granddaddy ballad of them all, involving murder and sex and jealousy and a Bangkok go go dancer's ghost, if you dare, click here: Noy of the Horny Toad

Copyright Dean Barrett 2014

All ballads are copyrighted and may not be reproduced without written permission of the writer

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