Golden & Perfect

March 16, 2025

Here, have a hit. I have no idea where it’s from and I love, love, love it and could never play it again a second time the same way ever.

It seems to have been recorded a week before I was laid off from a gig in Nevada City, California in the summer of ’16.

💖 Love to Each and All 🌞

Golden Perfect

There’s nothing to think about

but the sun going down

There’s nothing to sing about

but the sun coming up

It’s Golden and it’s Perfect

There’s nothing to do

but sing a simple song

There’s nothing to do

nothing is wrong

It’s Golden and it’s Perfect

Trump Fucks Ukraine

March 11, 2025

#TFU25 #trumpsatanspawn

Here is how Trump thinks: USA has already bought Ukraine. They are a now a colony of USA. We will let Russia think we’re gonna share it, but no. And also, no, Trump (satans spawn) is not going to give up that energy and mineral money $ by allowing Ukraine to demand NATO membership. (If he was smart, he would demand Russia give up the nuclear power plants and the rivers. Oh, and pay for the US to rebuild and supply demining robots. ) But Donald Trump is nuts not smart. We all know that. He’s just dumb ass evil dressed in business. Like Putin. But remember, Putin is the guy in the fight with a knife who will use it.

Trump (ss) also believes nothing’ll ever touch him, and he can stay far enough way, or pass away before the real blow back hits the fan. And this is gonna blow back eventually. It always does. Always has, always will. It’s just, you know, probably not on him. His stupid sons, they’re gonna be drowning in the economic, environmental shitstorm fallout of this bonehead “deal”.

Because why would he (Donald Trump satan’s spawn) prefer business with Europe? They just wants us to buy crap from them and preferential prices on our made in America crap. (never mind that eu abide by the world trade organization, the rule of law and mostly secure, stable and transparent banking system and they don’t hack us much) but hey there’s an opportunity with Ukraine / Russia.

Russia’s basically a developing economy again. Fuck we can recolonize them with our consumer brands like Tesla. and the NFL. I can see a Trumpo Hotel in Odessa with a view of all the tankers and fucking pipelines moving that beautiful Russian crude. That rich profitable Russian crude oil and natural gas. Heck, there might even be a somber memorial for the victims of Mariupol and all the other war crimes. #tfu25 #trumpsatanspawn

Love Gives Time Space

September 26, 2024

Oh …stay my hand that seeks your palm

forgive my ear that longs to sink

into the pool of your voice

which only music

of the purest tone could bear.

your skin is buttered, vibrant

before the crust of my longing

time is now the blade between

this midnight poem and the resolution

of my lust.

and the chime

is spreading outwards

from the central history

of my desires

satisfaction has not and will never

resolve this boy, this pen, this poem chiming

from you and i

rippling back to 1985

and forward to the next line

all so damned archetypal

consummation being both

mythic and mistaken

i can taste you now

from across the many futures,

your delicious moan

echoes back from yesterday and on

and on my lonely hand

pushes time and lust and memory

out into the waves

setting free the myth

and the mistake

to find me when

the winds of change

have changed

again

Queen 👸

July 9, 2024

She’s got the eye of an eagle and the tooth of a cat
she can drain my swamp in seconds flat
her hair hanging down like old spanish moss
she’s the queen of the river but I call her the boss

long before the school in the heat of the bank
she made gold from a catfish she pulled from a tank
she got the night wired up and it’s playing her tune
hound dog bark giving orders to the moon

she has the judge and the jury drinking mushroom tea
sliding railroad papers in the land of the free
governor flames talking highway slack
she tame baptist preachers with a bullwhip crack

She calls and I come or my head starts to jerk
blood curdling moans dog my guitar work
I got long, jagged holes in the back of my shirt
my hands disappear ‘neath the railroad dirt

no mystery spell gonna break her mind
she take medicine men make ’em wish they was blind
she live in a house that don’t have no walls
she’s the queen of the river and she’ll break your balls

Another Night of Tears

April 17, 2023

Words and Music by Willi Brown

I’ve been working all day long sometimes I forget
I have not deserved you since long before we met
We’ll make up for lost time someday in our golden years
But first we’ll have to make it through one more night of tears

The radio in the kitchen playing songs we used to know
Like highways moving backward to places we can’t go
We were perfect for each other we eased each others fears
We never minded holding on through one more night of tears

Funny how that trust got started, funny how our love was made
But I stopped laughing once I saw that trust begin to fade

Now each of us has a private life that the other doesn’t know
And generosity moved away from our house long ago
Yes now we have our own lives our dream has disappeared
We cannot help each other through another night of tears

 

Memory is that this was written around 1993, either in Omaha or Nashville, shortly after a divorce. So, yeah, it’s a divorce song but mostly fictional. Probably as close as I could get to the feel of John Prine’s “Angel from Montgomery”.

EvoluciĂłn (safe after dark)

April 9, 2023
acoustik version

Words and Music by Willi Brown

I introduce myself
in a modernly sensitive way
but I can’t help but feel
hypocritical…
because i want you

(and respect you beautiful) 

But I don't want you to be bugged honey 
 
and a-think i'm just a-hittin' on you 

i think it's a drag that a girl don't feel... 

Safe. After. Dark.

    {Evolution seems like a failure}

    A six pack of pride swallowed tonight
    when i spoke to you / at the slam dance
    it’s always our job to make the first move
    and buy the flowers

    Chorus

    Nah know I’m not your Jesus Christ
    and he ain’t no axe muderer neither
    I ain’t the cream of the wheat / or the cream of the crop

    I’m just confused!

    Memory is that this was written in Seattle around 1994 when I was going to the Crocodile cafe every other night to drink and hit on girls. After reading an article in the Stranger (some feminist propoganda thing *jk*) I wrote these words in a cheap spiral.

    Dub This!

    December 29, 2022

    Clint Eastwood from Gorillaz, is the anthem of this century Putin trump be damned.

    Call me decadence but this multiculti cats out the bag. We are earthlings.

    On n Off icial

    This is the century we monkies transcend this planet and save it. First we must transcend our nations, tribes and solid sense of self.

    Think about it. When you show up to represent your school or town or country (or earth) you are so full. Joy. Identity. Purpose. Autonomy. Mastery. Love.

    Saved by Station 11

    August 1, 2022

    July was the cruelest month in 22. On the day after Independence Day, I was in a café when she finally called me back. It had been two days of silence. Though I assumed that she was coming home to me that day. But instead, her new man left a message on my phone saying tthat she did not like conflict and hey were going to Europe next week to get married and that he was sorry.

    Fast-forward a few weeks and much drama and alcohol later… One night before bed scrolling through arts news in some publication, I caught a brief review of the latest work by Emily St. John Mandel. And knew right away I had possibly, finally, discovered a special writer. Someone to add to that shelf of favorites before I had even read a single line.

    And tonight probably not even 25% of the way through Station 11, I felt so good that I wanted to stop and message her on Instagram immediately. And tell her all about how this was connecting with me in my life. And how brilliant the last couple of pages were, how poetic, thrilling, how much like film, painting, and amazing embrace…

    So there Emily, you’ve touched me in the heart. We have fenced, you might say, touché!

    Earlier this afternoon while working on a three letter spot in a crossword puzzle, I came across an intriguing clue: “The tongue of the mind…”, Cervantes.