Newport 1965
(Or Dylan Goes Electric)
This was the dream concert
folk was at its peak
Pete Seeger, Joan Baez,
Odetta, Peter, Paul and Mary
Bill Monroe, Johnny Cash,
Gordon Lightfoot, Ian and Sylvia
But the prize, the dream was
to see Dylan play Blowin’ In the Wind
acoustically.
The folkie purists were shocked,
the dream had died.
Dylan played Maggie’s Farm with an
electric guitar and their world came
to an end.
Jack-y
Jack-y
Ohhhh Ms Jacky
how you court your life’s only lover
Huff and puff and contort, the smoke of your
Newfound Newport
(Long not short)
Lazily lacking worldly desires
If I had your sense of humour
Maybe I'd too sling new places
With every shot of tobacco, being
Flung into faraway lands, filled gilded glands
That aren’t quite backed
enough of a bite
sfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfs…….pfhooooooooooooooo
Toboggan the whole noggin when its
Packed to the brim, the nicotine
Porcelain eyes for your vaporent dreams
Oh Ms. Jacky, you technicolor dreamer
Wielding blue eyed sheen, portentously protruding Ra’s gleam
So alas, it seems
You spark up another laugh or two
Smoke rising up my face, the habitual ritual
in its proper place
Mercurial Smile, behind eyes unknown
A hidden grace
Solitarily confined in a Surreptitious
Space, far out man
My menial mind is amazed at how your’s a haze
You aren’t here anymore
But
Who really is
We are all Ms. Jacky deep within
The Bermuda Race
Don't sail the Rum Line lads
To that beautiful isle is quite bad.
600 miles heading just South South East
Is not the way to tame the beast.
A straight course sailors say:
"You can't win that way."
Newport to "The Onion Patch" the saying goes
Is a milk run but depends how the wind blows.
The Gulf Stream is always pushing you back.
It is a humbling current and that's a fact.
If caught in its many meanders
You won't be first to smell the June oleanders
The water temp will tell when in that stream
Try and keep the current hard abeam.
If you are there squalls you may see
Driving rain, lightning.high winds, and seas
Mind the helm and listen to the crew
Your navigator knows what to do.
It is a joy to see Saint David's Light
Then you know his courses were right.
But beware the Devi'ls Isles rocks and shoals
Before you cross the finish and reached your goal.
City lights sparkling,
mirrored in the Bay,
multi-colored jewels—
amber, rose, and green,
crystal, diamond-white—
gracing bridge and buildings—
mansions, pubs, and shops—
fanciful reflections of
countless points of intrigue.
Neurons, lives entwining—
schemes, ideas, and passions—
complex as a motherboard,
vibrant as a heartbeat,
fertile and entrancing,
as though fashioned by a
cosmic magician’s spell.
newport, ohio
two bars for the thirsty
one catholic church
for the sinners to be forgiven
one gas station
so us country folk
don't run out of gas
one big country concert
in july up the road
one 75 year old man
who runs a quiet
slaughter house
a quaint little town
on a busy state route
Newport Folk Festival 1965.
Behind the mirror is where we all
Tend to lurk,
Suffering through the pain of glass.
No one likes change,
Sometimes it is almost viewed as a sin.
Then you are punished
For attaining a higher majesty,
An alliance nearly gone.
But the times they were a changing
Folk had to realise,
A new power was being born
The climate just right for change.,
To plug in to the new.
After all a mirror image
Is the same,
But I suppose it is how
You look that matters,
Not what you see.
It was the orthodoxy
Of one Man that changed,
Someone who dared to be different.
It is some what ironic
That he said adieu,
With an acoustic version of
“It’s all over now , baby blue.”
But then,
The rest is history.
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