May I be safe, may I be happy, may I be healthy, [&] with ease.
May all be safe, may all be happy, may all be healthy, [&] with ease.

==================================================================================

As I washed the feet of my firstborn child
I told her something from my heart
I told her yes, it’s true, I love the Buddha so
But I can’t decide for you.

I know someone who goes to church
And who loves the Dharma true,
So if you wish, you can love Jesus,
And love the Dharma too.
 

Tom Youngjohn, circa 2002, 2003? (a hell of a long time ago, whenever it was.)

Here swims my family painted bright by the moon,
And we've been suffering since the life begun.
Tho' I may swim across many a sea,
My buoy will always be the dhamma to me.

Singing dhamma by the moon, recorded for me by my admirable friend,
All my days I will sing in praise of the sangha, the dhamma, and this gentleman.

Four Noble truths wrote this enlightened guy
But Eightfold Path aids us, you know monks don’t lie,
Being lamps to ourselves in this Milky Way,
Not gods, not divine, without self they say.

Singing dhamma by the moon, recorded for me by my admirable friend
All my days I will sing in praise of the sangha, the dhamma, and this gentleman.
 

==========================================================

Here am I confessing that I am salad dressing.
Buddha dhamma is my lama in pink pajamas.
 

Not long after I came up with this music, Just a few weeks, I learned from my mom the facts that turned this music, (plus afterthought harmony which is too loud), into the song "White Sand" aka "WHEN UNCLE SAM ASKS YOU TO MOVE".

I prefer this version, musically speaking. It gets me in the chest. (I think the harmony is too loud in the later version.)

CROSSING OVER THE RIO GRANDE

Walk to the edge, step down inside

Move your legs, throw your hips wide

Feel with your feet, aim by the stars

Once you're across, son, you'll go far

People helping you, help them in return

This is how it works, this is how you learn.

Tom Youngjohn, 2011

A little girl's tears crying for daddy,

a bag of white sand by the sand box.

Soil conservation was what her dad did

working for someone named 'Uncle Sam'.

The man named Sam had asked them to move,

the little girl had had to change schools.

Her dad brought home bags of white sand,

New Mexio, 1943.

"Leukemia" was what they were saying,

her dad lived for just one more year.

A little girl's heart crying for daddy,

a bag of white sand and a whole lot of tears.

Tom Youngjohn, with facts from mom, 1/9/11

recorded live (accept for harmony) 5/1/11

DREAM ACT SASHAY

Tryin’ to get a green card,
JJ studied so hard.
He was gettin’ all straight As.
He really made the grade.

But the Congress got sidetracked,
Wouldn’t pass that dang Dream Act,
And JJ got real sad,
And just a little mad.

See his dad had come EWI,
In the Rio Grande he’d peed,
Waded right across,
Made Uncle Sam his boss.

Now JJ’s stopped his school,
Cleans out some rich man’s pool,
And dreams about someday
Writing Ivy League essays,
One day.

Tom Youngjohn
1-4-2011
 

ZOMBIES COMING

Zombies coming, aim for the head,
Zombies coming, from under the bed,

Jesus saves from the grave,
Jesus saves so we must pray.

Pray
Pray

Zombies coming, aim for the head.
Zombies coming, and we’re left for dead.

Jesus saves from the grave,
Jesus saves so we must pray.

Crossing the line,
Over the edge,
No jurisdiction,
Aim for the head.

Beyond the border,
Beyond the pale,
Outside the margins,
Hear me wail.

Wail
Wail

Zombies coming, aim for the head,
Zombies coming, the undead.

Jesus saves from the grave,
Jesus saves so we must pray.

Pray
Pray

By Tom Youngjohn, July 9/10 2011
 

Back in 2003, I wouldn't have know one end of a guitar from the other. My first, more or less, paralegal added guitar for me, Mr. Anthony Almaraz, back in 2003.

Lyrics to THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS NOW
(Alternative title ‘BY THE OLD DEAD SEA’ sung to hmm hmn 107)

The kingdom of heaven is at hand
The kingdom of heaven is at hand

“The kingdom of heaven is now”
For you and me,
By divine decree.

“The kingdom of heaven is now”
No more ennui,
Said he.

The kingdom of heaven is at hand
The kingdom of heaven is at hand

“The kingdom of heaven is now,”
In Galilee,
And we’re carefree.

“The kingdom of heaven is now”
Drink some Chablis,
Said he.

The kingdom of heaven is at hand
The kingdom of heaven is at hand

“The kingdom of heaven is now”
Shall we sight see,
See ‘em screaming whoopee.

“The kingdom of heaven is now”
Let’s go look-see,
Shall we?

The kingdom of heaven is at hand
The kingdom of heaven is at hand

“The kingdom of heaven is now”
Throw a jamboree,
Bring your Sadducee.

“The kingdom of heaven is now”
Throw a big party,
Said he.

Copyright 2002 howlingwolf [pre-Christian Tom Youngjohn] (but free)
 

If you look carefully at the upper right hand corner, you'll see the price tag from the IU Bloomington Bookstore where I bought this book about close to 25 years ago. I'm finally reading it.

So I recorded this the same day that my son told me that this was his "last day ever" at Wildwood Elementary School. Since I had not been able to read to him as much as I had read to his older sister, his delay in getting on the "AR board" , the Accelerated Reader board, had held up a classroom pizza party. Henry's slightly delayed reading vocabulary (his mom only speaks Korean to him), had made him think that he had to read a book TWICE to pass the AR test. I started taking him to the library to read to him, to have him read to me, and read together, to get him reading. Man did he catch up fast. By the end of the third grade he was like number three in his class on the AR board. And he loves reading. And, where I failed fourth grade and had to repeat it, my son went on to the Fifth Grade Honors class, and, in retaking the California Achievement Test at Sylvan Learing in math two months ago, he tested in the Eighth grade.

The plan had been to put him in Nautilas Elementary originally, where his sister went, but I f****d up big time by missing the "CHOICE" entry deadline before he started at Wildwood, and the divorce didn't help matters, and Henry didn't want to switch to Nautilus after a year at Wildwood. And, all things considered, I don't regret the slower accademic start for my son. Call it a greased landing.

“AN APPLE FELL UPON HIS HEAD”

Picking mangos for my friends
Up their tree did I ascend.
My favorite membrance as a child,
Twelve years old but monkey wild!

So many branches did I bend,
And with so much heat did I contend,
That my sweat with mango nectar
Dreamed my body was a river.

And while the sun upon us smiled,
All the mangos I stockpiled.
The mango girl of Mindanao
With mango sweat upon my brow.

The tree its fruit did me allow,
Sweet mango girl of Mindanao.
Mango dancer, mango bomber,
Mango burglar, mango daughter,
Mango grasper, mango plucker,
Mango danger, mango plunder.

The mango girl of Mindanao,
My tangled locks were not highbrow,
But the mango tree did I transcend.
Earthward mangoes did I send.
And as the mangos did descend,
Newton’s Law was I, pretend!

By Tom Youngjohn, 7-17-12

Do you know what an insult it is for me to associate this piece shlock with John Miltion Cage, Jr.? Well I do.

I hearby dedicate any Buddhist merit I might aquire (I am an atheist when it comes to Buddhist "merit" so I can dedicate as I see fit) from my concentrating on sound, see http://audiodharma.org/talks/audio_player/4386.html , to the memory of Mr. Cage. God bless him.

I'm a Christian and I can dedicate nonsense Buddhist merit to whomever, or whatever I choose. And if I choose to dedicate it to the memory of John Milton Cage, Jr., well why not?

SLEEPY TIME HERE AND NOW (sung to hmm hmn197)

Sleepy time, here and now,
Devotional Bodhi Tao./\

Miracle of biology,
Sleepwalking choreography. \/

You’re the friend who holds me close,
Invisible, my holy ghost./\

I can’t greet you, as I’ll be,
Asleep when you comfort me.\/

And you’re my friend, my refuge,
My ancient house, my gentle snooze./\

You’re my delight, you bring me peace,
You’re my jhana, my release.\/

And you must know, or maybe not,
How you help me when I’m distraught./\

I can’t thank you as I’ll be
Asleep when you come to me.\/

Copyright 2002 howlingwolf (but free)
 

 2001, Poverty Bay Music,

In 2001 & mid 2003 I was a happy Buddhist (atheist) dad. And, in 2003, I had an amazingly talented guitarist working for me as a paralegal.