“Con Te Partiro”; With You I Leave (Sunday AM Punk Rock Gospel)

When you are far away I dream on the horizon and words fail, and I do know that you are with me, with me, with me. You, my moon, you are here with me. My sun, you are here with me, with me, with me, with me. With you I will leave.

As you may already know, I’ve been a most irresponsible ringleader. I’ve only recently returned to Cream Scene Carnival after a long hiatus. It wasn’t until I returned that I learned I had any “real” readers and now that I know, I’ve promised no more extended absences.

But can a gypsy-carnie with a history of wanderlust really make such a vow?

Well… yes.

Some time away doesn’t seem like such a big deal except for when it comes to one reoccurring post: The Sunday A.M. Punk Rock Gospel. The column I obsessed over and that no one ever read (besides The Reliable One) but he loved it too so I forged ahead with the idea. The idea?

A temple built of alphabet & musical notes, a church constructed of code, a sacrament of song.

I call it “The Punk Rock Gospel” though only some of the song choices are officially “punk rock.” It’s our attitude that’s punk rock. 

We’re outside the religious main-stream but still ass-kicker omen-seeker mystic-minded mutants who are looking for a moment of holy meditation but on our own damn terms.

No nun to rap our knuckles, no priest to diddle us under our choir robes. No bigot to tell us who to love or hate. No big-mouth phoney with his pants down and his hand out. No saintly soul with her lips pursed & judging our upblown skirts as we smirk all Tinto-Brass balls-out saucy. No one luring our loved one to the woods and striking her down because she is beautiful and he wants her which makes him hate her. (RIP Ronnie. The Robot-Boy misses you.) No one to tell us which hotdog to eat. No one to chop at the genitals of our babes. No one to shame us for unabashedly loving eachother and ourselves.

Now watch as I pass out pastels and ooh and ahh as you draw chalky caricatures of Muhammad on the sidewalk.

No one to kill us afterwards.

Down with the dogma! Up with the dada!

When I started Cream Scene Carnival, I had high hopes for the punk rock gospel. I wanted people to read it, to love it, to listen to the songs and then to come back again. And again.

It seemed as if it would never happen. Now, almost out of nowhere, my hopes have been realized. Y’all are reading the punk rock gospel! You’re coming back the next week and the next week too! I’m so happy I could fly my own heart like a bright red kite.

Which is why I MUST find my way here every single Saturday night or early Sunday morning (Monday at the latest?) Either that or I must initiate others to serve as Gurus of Garage Rock or Mofos of Funk for those times when I am unavailable in any of my holy guises: High-Priestess of Tom-foolery; Trickster Fox Fortune-teller; Lipstick Shamaness. Finding a sacred sub is really the perfect solution as it means a fresh perspective or a whole new kind of song on a special kinda Sunday.

This week is in that spirit, even though I am here (having hauled my butt to a late-night diner to surf their wireless.) So it’s me whose typing these words today but it’s a reader — and new interwebby friend, Alice — who chose this video and song. She sent the link to me after a recent post on Frida Kahlo’s 103rd birthday. Maybe, if you are lucky, Alice will contribute her own thoughts/”gospel” in the comments. Although I’ve noticed that a normal modest person with decent goodness and the appropriate level of humility doesn’t take easily to the idea of writing “gospel”. I say, Phooey! and Screw that chicken til the feathers fly! I say take the word “gospel” and make it work for you. I say that God was created by us and is ours to recreate.

Of course there are those who will gasp — aghast! — and call me a hell-bound heathen. But the way I look at it, I’m keeping my heavenly options open. Wide open. I’m after an all-access pass! If I wanna smoke a stogey with the Devil after a day of wind-surfing with Jesus but before a long night of drunken club-hopping with Artemis and Venus, well then, so fucking be it. These are OUR MYTHS and we should be able to interact with them freely.

On that note, I’d like to open up the Sunday A.M. Punk Rock Gospel to all of you because it was my gift to you and now it’s yours. That doesn’t mean I won’t keep writing week after week but it does mean that I am open to song suggestions or topics of discussion. Anyone interested in guest-hosting a punk rock gospel (choosing song, video & theme, as well as writing the text) should raise their hand with a hell yea! or a why the hell not!?

This week’s song is Com Te Pardis or “With you, I Will Leave” (also known as “Time to Say Goodbye.”) The song is sung by Andrea Bocelli and was “chosen” by Alice who “gifted” it to me after a tough couple weeks in which I wrestled with issues of loss, grief and death. As Alice and I discussed, there’s always that shamanic meaning within injury, illness or trauma.

Let us be the ones to look for those gifts which aren’t showy or jewel-encrusted.

Let us be the ones to love being alive and to never ever be too cool, too hip or too busy to (know) show it.

Let us be the ones who find a new spirit in the rubble of religion.

Let us be Lizard Kings! Let us be everything!

Livin’ la vida Frida!!

Con Te Partiro; With You, I Will Leave

(With you, I leave)

Quando sono solo sogno all’orizzonte e mancan le parole
(When I’m alone I dream of the horizon and words fail)

si, lo so che non c’e luce in una stanza quando manca il sole
(Yes, I know there is no light in a room when the sun is absent)

se non ci sei tu con me / con me
(If you are not with me / with me)

su le finestre
(at the windows)

mostra a tutti il mio cuore che hai acceso
(show everyone my heart which you set alight)

chiudi dentro me la luce che / hai incontrato per strada
(give to me the light / you found on the street)

con te partiro
(with you i will leave)

paesi / che non ho mai
(countries which i have never)

veduto e vissuto con te
(seen and experienced with you)

adesso, si, li vivro
(now, yes, i will live them)

con te partiro
(with you i will leave)

su navi per mari
(on ships across seas)

che, io lo so / no, no, non esistono piu
(which, i know, no, no, no longer exist)

con te io li vivro
(with you i will live them)

quando sei lontana sogno all’orizzonte e mancan le parole
(when you are far away I dream on the horizon and words fail)

e io si lo so che sei con me / con me
(and I do know that you are with me, with me)

tu, mia luna, tu sei qui con me
(you, my moon, you are here with me)

mio sole, tu sei qui con me, con me, con me, con me
(my sun, you are here with me, with me, with me, with me)

con te partiro
(with you I will leave)

paesi che non ho mai
(countries which i have never)

veduto e vissuto con te
(seen and experienced with you)

adesso, si, li vivro
(now, yes, i will live them)

con te partiro
(with you i will leave)

su navi per mari
(on ships across seas)

che, io lo so / no, no, non esistono piu
(which, i know, no, no, no longer exist)

con te io li rivivro
(with you i will relive them)

con te partiro
(with you i will leave)

su navi per mari
(on ships across seas)

che, io lo so, no, no, non esistono piu
(which, i know, no, no, exist no longer)

con te io li rivivro
(with you i will relive them)

Io con te!
(I’m with you!)


*The surrealist pieces Angels of Death & Infinity are by George Gris and are available as prints.

I love how the Angel of Death has the rowboat which she sails in the song: “With you I will leave, on ships across seas, which, I know, no, no, no longer exist, with you I will relive them, with you I will leave, on ships across seas.”

I’ll be all gypsy-wild & on the road after this is published so there may be some delay in answering comments. But I’ll be back. Be assured.

8 Responses to ““Con Te Partiro”; With You I Leave (Sunday AM Punk Rock Gospel)”

  1. As I was lazily dozing under a butterfly bush, shaded by its branches, and the beauty of the delicate lavender flowers–I closed my eyes, heard the butterflies,the gentle fluttering of their, bright orange, black, and iridescent blue spotted wings overhead. I thought, is this heaven?

    No, but it’s Sunday, and the Foxy Trickster, is a preachin’ a gospel today, whoopee! SOOOOO

    I found this quote today,*especially* for you. When you ponder the Punk Rock Gospel, when to write it, dealing with what to write, and any other things that may be of issue, remember, your creative soul is a gift to us, your readers, doesn’t matter if it is posted on Saturday night for those early risers, or later in the day on Sunday. Just keep sharing your creative self, we will be your witnesses to the mystery of your life, your internet lovers, tasting the bits of candy you give us, yum.

    “It is the greatest mystery of life that satisfaction is felt not by those who take, and make demands, but by those who give, and make sacrifices. In them alone the energy of life does not fail, and this is precisely what is meant by creativeness. The positive mystery of life is therefore to be found in love, in sacrificial, giving, creative love. As has been said already, all creativeness is love and all love is creative. If you want to receive, give; if you want to obtain satisfaction, do not seek it, never think of it, and forget the very word; if you want to acquire strength, manifest it, give it to others.”

    — Nicholas Berdyaev, “The Ethics of Creativity,” in: UltimateQuestions, ed. Alexander Schmemann, p. 262

    So glad you included the Frida Tribute , and song– BTW.
    Peace Alice

    • alphabetfiend Says:


      I’m parked in the wee A.M. hours outside of a 24 hour diner — Star Seeds Cafe — and I feel dozey but jubilant as star seeds fall like a glittery spring shower. I feel spoiled (rotten as a summer peach) by the world, the Robot, the canine-trinity but mostly by Alice.

      How lucky can one girl be? I wonder — gifted as I am, constantly unfurling bows and tearing festive paper.

      Thank you doesn’t seem like nearly enough.

  2. Ok, my day so far, has been far from perfection, but I was so glad to check my e-mail to find you responded to my comments. Geez, now who feels like a princess on prom night!

    “unfurling bows and tearing festive paper” Lovely.

    Sending you a link called the “souls journey”– I especially feel, like a newborn today, who is finally finding a path, coming out of a shell of oppression, to the light, and love, and thought I would share the imagery.

    When you said you were at the “Star Seed Cafe” curiously the name got me googling thus the “souls journey pix”, and star seed web site.

    Also. I wondered, what tickled your fancy at the cafe–some exotic fare, for the Foxy Trickster, or maybe the Ringleader just wanted some sunny side eggs, an english muffin smothered in strawberry jam, and dare I say bacon too? To drink? hum….perhaps a pot of tea, with a dash of honey? We are all so curious, I’m sure.

    Well, keep on writing.
    Peace Alice

  3. alphabetfiend Says:

    Actually I was just surfing their wireless while I listened to late-night radio, parked outside in the van with the pups lounging and curious about the whole strange affair. But the other day, working on the punk rock gospel, I was a paying customer: A hummus plate (drizzled with copious amounts of extra-virgin olive oil) and for the ever-patient Robot-Boy, a big basket of hand-cut fries CRUSTED with sea salt and black pepper. Yum! And frosty glasses of coke-a-cola.

    Your day reminds me of one of my favorite quotes, by Barbara Kingsolver: “Hopeful as a lizard pulling clean from an old skin.”

    I always associate that quote with one by Anais Nin:”I wept because I had lost my tears and was not yet accustomed to their absense.”

    Not sure why… I think they’re scrawled in the same teenage journal somewhere.

    I’m sorry your day has sucked (so far) but pleased to have brought you a smile on this imperfect day. Maybe there will be more goodness to come.

    We head back to Mississippi today… or late late tonight… hoping to travel in the cloak of darkness. (Also hoping to snag a yummy breakfast sandwich at Hruskas… a treat that can only be had in the early morning before they’ve all been gobbled up by fellow travelers.) Once I get back I’m eager to get some drafts finished, namely the mermaid interiors so let me know if any watery tunes float into those gray cells of yours.

    I ADORE you, Alice!

  4. Hope you like this, I did. I was just trying to send you the link, but it seems the universe wanted something different…….ALice

  5. alphabetfiend Says:

    Oh, that’s lovely! I’m very familiar with this song but I never woulda thought to use the song for this. It’s perfect but not at all obvious. It’s great — with the “fascination” and also “invitation” (given our talk of much-sought invites to mermaid tea parties.) I hope you had a great week. Mine was crazy busy but quite nice all-in-all.

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