Funny story. I almost met Ray Manzarek once. He & his wife were at a Home Depot, I swear, picking out DOORS. I was too shy to say hello.

He was an incredible performer with the soul of a buddha.  Ray & Jim changed music. Pollinating their songs with jazz, blues, California psychedelia, & poetry. Dangerous, sexy, art.

Think. Speak. 

“…like worms on a hook that were plucked from the heart of the bodies of gods for the wretched and lost…”

Yours

by Daniel Hoffman

Otep - Voyeur (Hydra)

(Source: youtube.com, via artsavesallofme)

Ralph Waldo Emerson

(via samsaranmusing)

“They deem me mad because I will not sell my days for gold; and I deem them mad because they think my days have a price. ”

—Kahlil Gibran

(via kateoplis)

DEAR MISS: Notwithstanding the cloud of doubts which overshadows the mind of adoring fancy, when I trace that vermillion cheek, that sapphire eye of expressive softness, and that symmetrical form of grace, I am constrained to sink into a flood of admiration beneath those heavenly charms. Though, dear Miss, it may be useless to introduce a multiplicity of blandishments, which might either lead you into a field of confusion, or absorb the truth of affection in the gloom of doubts; but the bell of adulation may be told from the distance of its echo, and cannot be heard farther than seen. Dear Miss, whatever may be the final result of my adventurous progress, I now feel a propensity to embark on the ocean of chance, and expand the sail of resolution in quest of the distant shore of connubial happiness with one so truly lovely. Though, my dearest, the thunders of parental aversion may inflect the guardian index of affection from its favorite star, the deviated needle recovers its course, and still points onwards to its native poll. Though the waves of calumny may reverberate the persevering mind of the sailing lover, the morning star of hope directs him through the gloom of trial to the object of his choice.

My brightest hopes are mix’d with tears,
Like hues of light and gloom;
As when mid sun-shine rain appears,
Love rises with a thousand fears,

To pine and still to bloom.
When I have told my last fond tale
In lines of song to thee,
And for departure spread my sail,
Say, lovely princess, wilt thou fail
To drop a tear for me?

O, princess, should my votive strain
Salute thy ear no more,
Like one deserted on the main,
I still shall gaze, alas! but vain,
On wedlock’s flow’ry shore.

About this poem:

George Moses Horton holds the distinction of being the first African American to publish a book, and the only to publish while living in slavery.

This was 2nd appearance on HBO’s Def Poetry. The title of the poem is DEDICATED TO MY ENEMY. 

After the first few lines there were some giggles in the audience. The subject matter made them uncomfortable. But after I introduced them to my experience, the physical nature of the performance, we were all locked together in the coil of spiritual intercourse.

HAAAAAAAAGGGGGG

My answer to the question from After Ellen: What’s the metal landscape like these days?

• Read the full interview here

There’s this moment in CRUSH, right before the outro detonates, when u realize that the title is not just about HYDRA having a CRUSH but it’s also how she kills her CRUSH. This song gave me chills when I wrote it. Powerfully dark stuff here. ♥ 

LISTEN ………LOUD!

• If you like the song please support the arts by purchasing it HERE. Thanks.