"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> Songs from the Mabuhay Gardens
Songs from the Mabuhay Gardens
By Siobhan 'Shamama' Lowe
THE WALL... You could hear the noise really well from the alley as you walked up the neon glitzy street...past all the strip joints spewing assembly line disco gyration. The chainsaw staccato drive of monitors turned up full just about shook the walls outside......Walls decorated with the spray painted mantras of the new politics that were conceived illegitimately and treated like the bourgeois bastard children by the well dressed tourists,slinking about quick and frightened by the pink haired leather clad youth ..Fumes of North Beach garlic and reefers were ambrosia to the punk rockers , hungry and seeking the truth. Truth set to a new beat.....truth finding it's way onto a wall from a can of spray paint....Like a new wave punk rock holy Buddhist haiku onto bare walls screaming for personality..and meaning. In that alley was a place to vent...vent out the primal agonies bestowed on us without our permission, by an overstuffed ignorant generation of GIMME. Agonies shoved down the throats of kids who dared to speak out against that kind of imposed system of cloning robotized youth to continue the consuming spewing farce of suburbia. Agonies that got and anesthetized real good by cheap wine a forty of Ole E or some Colt 45 and then by flinging the bottle it came in against that multicolored truth filled obscene wall. The sound of breaking glass was a celestial sonnet..our way of reaching in with our 'medication' of choice and letting all those hurting ,biting put downs, strengthened by those screams, that broken glass, and that good skunky 'medicine made the night truly, truly ready to begin.
Songs from the Mabuhay Gardens
By Siobhan 'Shamama' Lowe
The MEANING All the anger and intolerance and ignorance heaped up on upon with abuse from the unconscious collective of consumerism had fed up a Punk generation that could no longer give peace a chance or put flowers down the barrels of guns that would kill college kids. No more of that crap would be tolerated...we would rise up and against and expose all of the lies in a musical cacophony designed to wrench the bovine bureaucrats attention off of their plates by the scruff of their fat necks and force them to hear at high decibel levels what we were saying! WE saw and we told ...punk rock tattletales making a loud clear path for those who heard to follow and join ranks with, while the moneyed bald heads were appalled afraid and disgusted with our bold styles of spikes and leather,crazy color and sneers. The truth of that moment was like someone spitting in the wind..what you do will come back to you! They can't oppress and force the same giant cookie cutter down on us all and expect the same little cookies to come out of this big batch! It was everyone for everyone, each supporting our right to be who we were no matter how tawdry , filthy or rude! Anarchy was our emblem, anarchists was our handle...we all rose and fell under that cover, that cover of squirming , pogoing, moshing truth filled kids! We were gonna make a change..no matter how many teeth got crunched into the pavement ..no matter how many suburban cherries got popped..or how many fuses got blown during the plug in! WE deserved as humans to be able to express our disgust and expose the filthy systems poison tyrants at their own dirty games!! What sheer exhilaration to ride the wave of our own making..on our own sound ..to break free of the mold of farce into the giant flip off of the world! Loud, fast, hard rising above all the other sounds out there all kids had to do was hear it once......and they were a part of it and always would be! Shamamas Mab poems