hosho mccreesh | blind willie johnson

Blind Willie Johnson

Huddled in the ruins of his
burned-out Beaumont home,
not a single goddamed place to go,
turned out from the infirmary
for being black and blind
and not worth saving,
shivering in a rain-soaked bed,
too sick to go sing on his corner,
the milky water filling those
strong, beautiful lungs.

Blind Willie Johnson,
shaking and trembling,
thinking back on a ravaged life,
back to strumming his cigar-box guitar
the day Papa’s devil woman
blinded Willie with a handful of lye,
moaning and moaning,
begging and begging
after that god what forgot him.

Blind Willie Johnson,
penniless, and dead,
left to the writhing worms,
dragged off to some forgotten,
unmarked East Texas grave.

And yet…

somewhere,
in the vast and terrible
expanse of deepest space,
Blind Willie Johnson,
his voice etched in gold, and hurtling
towards some unnamed future place,
some place far beyond the Milky Way,
Blind Willie Johnson’s raw and desperate voice,
saved beyond all human reach,
chronicled as one of
our very few accomplishments,
haunting and haunting
the furthest edges of forever,
and worth fucking
saving
after
all.

0 Replies to “hosho mccreesh | blind willie johnson”

  1. WE ARE BUILDING A LIMITED NUMBER CIGAR-BOX GUITARS OUT OF WOOD THAT WAS TAKEN FROM BLIND WILLIE’S HOME IN TEXAS. THIS PROJECT IS PART OF A RECORD RELEASE/PRODUCTION INVOLVING ORIGINALS AND COVERS OF WILLIE’S REPERTOIRE. THE GUITARS WILL BE SOLD TO HELP PAY FOR THE PROJECT’S COSTS.
    WHERE CAN WE GET PORTRAIT PHOTOS OF THE BLIND PILGRIM???

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