For Jim Carroll…

“Conscience is no more than the dead speaking to us” – Jim Carroll

“I’ll Die For Your Sins If You Live For mine.”

A wee bit of homage for Jim Carroll. I never knew him, I read his poetry on occasion, and I certainly enjoyed his musical adventures…

Don’t try to look up his poetry on the web at this point, there seems to be a tonne of attack sites advertising it with some nasty malware attached… I think Jim would of found that funny or sad.

He was a poet who developed his style through his pain, the monkey on his back and the life he pursued. He was an original, and I think his voice has been stilled way to early. I was interested on how he would develop as he got older. Now of course, we won’t get that chance.

From what I understand, he was sitting at his desk, working at poetry when he died. What poet wouldn’t like that?

Here is to you Jim. May your poems be spray painted on walls and sidewalks. May your books of poems be handed out freely in the streets.

I hope it was a quick journey across the river, and I pray the Muse greeted you on the other shore..

Bright Blessings,


On The Menu:

Some Jim C. Linkage

Jim C. Quotes

I Am Alone


8 Fragments For Kurt Cobain

Catholic Boy w/lyrics


Some Jim C. Linkage:

Jim Carroll

A beautiful rememberance…

Jim’s website…


Jim Carroll Quotes:

“I love this mansion, though it is too many windows

…to open halfway each morning

…to close halfway each night.”

“Our team is good at getting dressed real quick, because we’re the type of team that wears their uniforms all day.”

“Violence is so terribly fast . . . the most perverse thing about the movies is the way they portray it in slow motion, allowing it to be something sensuous . . . the viewer’s lips slightly wet as the scene plays out. Violence is nothing like that. It is lightning fast, chaotic, and totally intangible. “

— Jim Carroll (Forced Entries: The Downtown Diaries: 1971-1973)

“all right

buddah gets a backstage pass

but all his friends have to pay”

— Jim Carroll (Void of Course)

“That, I realized, is the great beauty of dreams: the devil may inevitably find a way to jerk you off, but you can always wake up before he makes you cum.”

— Jim Carroll (Forced Entries: The Downtown Diaries: 1971-1973)


Jim Carroll – I Am Alone


Jim Carroll (1949 – 2009)

Jim Carroll (born August 1, 1949 in New York City died September 11, 2009) was an author, poet, autobiographer, and punk musician. Carroll is best known for his 1978 novel The Basketball Diaries, which was made into a movie in 1995 starring Leonardo DiCaprio.

Raised in New York City, Carroll attended several Catholic Grammar Schools from 1955 to 1963. In fall 1963, he entered public school, but was soon rewarded a scholarship to the elite Trinity High School (a private school). He entered Trinity High School in 1964.

Apart from being interested in writing, Carroll was a passionate basketball player throughout his grade school and middle school career. He entered the “Biddy League” at age 13 and participated in the National High School All Star Game in 1966, hence the title of his most famous book.

As a teenager, Carroll was a heroin addict who sometimes prostituted himself to afford his habit. The novel The Basketball Diaires concerns his life in New York City’s hard drug culture and his struggle to rid himself of his addiction.

Carroll published his first book, Organic Trains, at age 17. Several of his poems have been published in such magazines as Paris Review and Poetry. In 1970, his second collection of poems, 4 Ups and 1 Down was published. That same year, Carroll started working for Andy Warhol. At first, he was writing film dialogue and inventing character names; later on, Carroll worked as the co-manager of Warhol’s Theater. Carroll’s first above-ground publication, the collection Living At The Movies was published in 1973.

He formed the Jim Carroll Band, a New Wave/punk rock group, in 1980. Their biggest commercial success was the single “People Who Died,” from their debut album, Catholic Boy. He has also collaborated with many influential punk and hard rock musicians, including Lou Reed, Blue Öyster Cult, Boz Scaggs and Rancid.


8 Fragments For Kurt Cobain by Jim Carroll


Genius is not a generous thing

In return it charges more interest than any amount of royalties can cover

And it resents fame

With bitter vengeance

Pills and powdres only placate it awhile

Then it puts you in a place where the planet’s poles reverse

Where the currents of electricity shift

Your Body becomes a magnet and pulls to it despair and rotten teeth,

Cheese whiz and guns

Whose triggers are shaped tenderly into a false lust

In timeless illusion


The guitar claws kept tightening, I guess on your heart stem.

The loops of feedback and distortion, threaded right thru

Lucifer’s wisdom teeth, and never stopped their reverbrating

In your mind

And from the stage

All the faces out front seemed so hungry

With an unbearably wholesome misunderstanding

From where they sat, you seemed so far up there

High and live and diving

And instead you were swamp crawling

Down, deeper

Until you tasted the Earth’s own blood

And chatted with the Buzzing-eyed insects that heroin breeds


You should have talked more with the monkey

He’s always willing to negotiate

I’m still paying him off…

The greater the money and fame

The slower the Pendulum of fortune swings

Your will could have sped it up…

But you left that in a plane

Because it wouldn’t pass customs and immigration


Here’s synchronicity for you:

Your music’s tape was inside my walkman

When my best friend from summer camp

Called with the news about you

I listened them…

It was all there!

Your music kept cutting deeper and deeper valleys of sound

Less and less light

Until you hit solid rock

The drill bit broke

and the valley became

A thin crevice, impassible in time,

As time itself stopped.

And the walls became cages of brilliant notes

Pressing in…


That’s how diamonds are made

And that’s WHERE it sometimes all collapses

Down in on you


Then I translated your muttered lyrics

And the phrases were curious:

Like “incognito libido”

And “Chalk Skin Bending”

The words kept getting smaller and smaller


Separated from their music

Each letter spilled out into a cartridge

Which fit only in the barrel of a gun


And you shoved the barrel in as far as possible

Because that’s where the pain came from

That’s where the demons were digging

The world outside was blank

Its every cause was just a continuation

Of another unsolved effect


But Kurt…

Didn’t the thought that you would never write another song

Another feverish line or riff

Make you think twice?

That’s what I don’t understand

Because it’s kept me alive, above any wounds


If only you hadn’t swallowed yourself into a coma in Roma…

You could have gone to Florence

And looked into the eyes of Bellinni or Rafael’s Portraits

Perhaps inside them

You could have found a threshold back to beauty’s arms

Where it all began…

No matter that you felt betrayed by her

That is always the cost

As Frank said,

Of a young artist’s remorseless passion

Which starts out as a kiss

And follows like a curse


Jim Carroll – Catholic Boy

I was born in a pool, they made my mother stand

And I spat on that surgeon and his trembling hand

When I felt the light I was worse than bored

I stole the doctor’s scalpel and I slit the cord

I was a Catholic boy,

Redeemed through pain,

Not through joy

I was two months early they put me under glass

I screamed and cursed their children when the nurses passed

Was convicted of theft when I slipped from the womb

They led me straight from my mother to a cell in the Tombs

They starved me for weeks, they thought they’d teach me fear

I fed on cellmates’ dreams, it gave me fine ideas

When they cut me loose, the time had served me well

I made allies in heaven, I made comrades in Hell

I was a Catholic child

The blood ran red

The blood ran wild

I make angels dance and drop to their knees

When I enter a church the feet of statues bleed

I understand the fate of all my enemies

Just like Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane

I watched the sweetest psalm stolen by the choir

I dreamed of martyrs’ bones hanging from a wire

I make a contribution, I get absolution

I make a resolution to purify my soul

They can’t touch me now

I got every sacrament behind me:

I got baptism,

I got communion,

I got penance,

I got extreme unction

I’ve got confirmation

‘Cause I’m a Catholic child

The blood ran red

The blood ran wild!

Now I’m a Catholic man

I put my tongue to the rail whenever I can.


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