Punk was our jazz
The liberating energy of a people’s movement
against tyrannical oppression.
Razing Hell and Deconstruction were our lifeblood…
Both Nature and Society having spurned us
from the origin,
we banded together into a convent of thieves.
All our food came from dumpsters, all our clothes second hand,
and it was good…
We did not bemoan the loss of meaning
like a widow wailing for her fallen patriarch…
instead we made it the very essence of our revelment.
Every day was conducted
like a proper Irish-Catholic wake
for the death of God.
And so in place of crying,
we sung collective praises…
White Winter Hymnals to the Profane.
Ritual was held in cramped and dingy basement spaces,
strewn and scattered about the frozen city.
It was hardcore music you could slam your fist to:
1)Rage, 2)Release, 3)Catharsis…
totally stripped and utterly purged the morning after.
It was funny how…
we always felt the most complete.
and there in that hazy first-morning’s light,
First… locking eyes… and then… locking sighs…
Reminded us of all that we were fighting for.
Love, la raison de’etre.
On that solemn December’s midnight,
I knew that I was alive,
reflected essence in your eyes…
reflecting the somber mid-winter’s forest,
reflecting the moon’s luminous purple glow…
which lay upon everything like a great web of celestial beauty,
Indred’s Net cast before us,
pervading, inter-penetrating all-in-all
Infinity reflecting infinity, infinitely reflected.
… and now I know…
there’s no way I couldn’t have loved you out in that frigid and barren clime.
For… in the end… there really is no “I” without “You.”
I loves you… I needs you… Always and forever.
Punk was our jazz,
the music of the revolution,
razing hell and deconstruction were our lifeblood.
Love, Eros and Liberty usurped the search for truth,
and it is by these principles alone that anything was done.
I loved you then, like I love you now,
-Habibi (Hunter Gsoell, November 10th, 2013)