Galen Cassidy Peria A.K.A. Duke Aeroplane
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SINATRA ON THE TITANIC.

6/14/2024

 
the heavens are rife with singing
the night is just right for bringing
some very bad ideas to the fore
the bells are all midnight screaming
the swells are all drugged and dreaming
i am slipping sideways through the door

maybe if we keep on dancing
maybe if we play romancing
we will never need to face the dawn
your lips they are cauterizing
your hips they are hypnotizing
my mind is lost, my money’s gone

take this ring from my hand
take this rose from my teeth
i am just a man
and life’s so very very brief

the horns are all sputtered choking
the singer he must be joking
the violin’s an epileptic fit
my heart it is a structure fire
you are my one desire
oh my god - can this be it?

all these ships lost out at sea
champagne fingers chasing me
bedecked in moonlight, lapping up the stars
i don’t know my way back home
i’ve lost my compass and my comb
stumbling through a maze of motor cars

you’re as busy as a bee
and i’m as dizzy as a top
you make a fool of me
please don’t ever ever stop

take me home
to your big empty house
and make a king
of this masquerading mouse

the host is so fucking sleazy
the night is all jasmine breezy
i can’t tell the forest for the trees
the lame they will walk again
the mute they will talk again
we will be the light the blind man sees

NEW ORLEANS, I LOVE YOU

6/14/2024

 
the sanctity of street lamps shining just outside my door
you’ll find me on the front steps, that’s what they are for
the ship masts of the power lines stitched across the road
and i haven’t payed my traffic fines, i hope i don’t get towed

friends from down the bayou, stars up in the sky
oh me oh mio, oh mio my
down the endless highway, it’s hard to explain
to drive all night alone to the city through the rain

patterns on the ceiling in the first light of the dawn
that old restless feeling when the money’s almost gone
birds are on the wire and the train is coming through
and the whole damn world’s on fire, new orleans i love you

now it’s ashes on my forehead, the carnival is gone
and every time i left my bed you’d not believe the goings-on
for everything it’s worth chasing after bliss
i could not take a day on earth if this place did not exist

i cannot tell a lie, oh, i will not deny
oh me oh mio, oh mio my
coloured beads in oak trees, confetti in my hair
poker games on dumaine, i will meet you there

the world keeps growing older and we grow older too
lay your head upon my shoulder and dream a dream brand new
the wind whispers to the nightingale and every word rings true
if i should roam i will not fail coming home to you

if i should roam i am coming home
new orleans, i love you

MY FAVOURITE SPRINGS.

6/14/2024

 
when the party is over where will we go
if the shepherd is lost how do we know
here in the soil of the seeds we sow,
something is germinating

shiny leaders in a row
the shiny futures that they bestow
little sheep learn to ‘yes’ and ‘no’
as long as they’re behaving

stars they glimmer and kingdoms fall
old papers pile up in the hall
and when we need it most of all
the band begins to play …

let the flock roam free
may their every dream be reared
their fleeces is as white as snow
when all the chains are sheared

trinkets and treasures, whistles and bells
units and measures, heavens and hells
the buyer he buys what the seller he sells
but who is stocking the window?

pastures of plenty, fences and pens
poets and painters and the wounds that they mend
the respondent receives what the sender he sends
out for delivery

the sandbox, the village, the drawing of lines
the spinning of yarns, the aging of wines
the glorious feast on which all of time dines
the flax is turning to gold

work boots and slippers, strawberries and thighs
grist mills and dance halls, scriptures and lies
the prize fighter fighting for his chosen prize
a trophy up on the shelf

the heartbeat, the hammer, the tornado, the barn
from born in the stable until buying the farm
all of life’s treasures protected from harm
in an old gunny sack …
we wont get these days back …

let the flock roam free
may their every dream be reared
their fleece is as white as snow
when all the chains are sheared

springtimes and flowers, the time the clock tells
field-calls and hollers, earmarks and tells
a small fortune in coin fills the wishing wells
the dreams all go a-splashing

crooked old geezers, rosy young tots
assorted contenders, the haves and have-nots
the division of labour, the drawing of lots
the spinner sits a-spinning

the primrose path, the gilded lilies
one polished prayer on two dusty knees
a breath of jasmine swept up by the breeze
like a ship swept into harbour

the morning that’s leaving the old night bereft
a reveler still singing the only song left
the guillotine tongue and the marks it has cleft
just pull the wool from your eyes

kites in july, kisses in june
maybe november beneath the moon
and september is forever, ever too soon
what is there left to say …
it might as well be may …

let the flock roam free
may their every dream be reared
their fleece is as white as snow
when all the chains are sheared

let my flock roam free
may their every dream be reared
their fleece is as white as snow
when all the chains are sheared

FUMIER D'ETOILE

6/14/2024

 
c’est vrai, c’est vrai, c’est vrai
maintenant plus que jamais
nous avons besoin des fleurs
et de la liberté, monsieurs

c’est vrai, c’est vrai, c’est vrai
maintenant plus que jamais
nous avons besoin des fleurs
et de la liberté, monsieurs

les beaux fleurs de merde
et les enfants dans la salle
la fleur a besoin de fumier
fumier d’étoile

c’est vrai, c’est vrai, c’est vrai
maintenant plus que jamais
nous avons besoin des fleurs
et de la liberté, monsieurs

DICE, BRASS KNUCKLES, AND GUITAR

5/27/2024

 
if you hang around them riverboats
go reaching for the armstrong notes
and pray to god the ship is lost at sea
evoking tales of old f. scott
running with a sordid lot
you’ll be running with my friends and me

dice, brass knuckles, and guitar
things are more than ever like they are
it’s a paper moon, and it’s a tinsel star
it’s dice, brass knuckles, and guitar

there was a girl from ohio
she now wears a wooden kimono
she wasn’t urbane enough to see
the times are growing rather tough
women are loose and men are rough
it doesn’t take a genius to be

dice, brass knuckles, and guitar
things are more than ever like they are
chicago lightening from a stolen car
dice, brass knuckles, and guitar

so you can play the ponies, dear
or sing cole porter loud and clear
but the old days are dead as dead can be
put a feather in your cap
put a gasper in your trap
and pantomime with a fool like me

​dice, brass knuckles, and guitar
things are more than ever like they are
the future, it is horrid and bizarre
it’s dice, brass knuckles, and guitar

CATS UPON THE ROOFTOPS

5/27/2024

 
cats upon the rooftops
pigeons in the eaves
old men lost at bus stops
rings lost in the leaves
seekers climb the mountain
then don’t know what to do
but every coin in the fountain
is a wish i made for you

the evening it is ending
the sun is going down
there’s an angel whose attending
every need that can be found
the days cannot be tamed
at least not for to keep
and every song that can’t be named
is singing you to sleep

it’s not fair
the ways of history
i don’t care
they don’t mean too much to me
i wasn’t there
and i would not want to be
but i swear
the future is yet to be

may you know the image
that the master seeks in paints
may you find favour
in the congress of the saints
i wish you rock and roll
and the rock of ages too
keep the devil in the hole
​and the road in front of you

©GALEN CASSIDY PERIA, 2024