something

May 16, 2008 at 7:19 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 15 Comments
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

given to you which will never be yours, wandering around looking at yourselves in various dazes, now is the time to reunite common cultures, soon the privileges into which you were born will no longer exist, that is the way of civilizations, of humans, now is the time to find common myths which will require you to exercise your gift in some cause not your own says F. slamming his glass down but i hold the right hand high, he said, and the bastards ignored me again,

but i hold the right hand together as the piano has been drinking not me, doffs his hat, (play an old folk tune, Ry Cooder style, that crossroads song Exu),

‘trane rattles round bend
pick a card any card,
them days are done, son, long gone
now it’s all plastic Paris and painted Helen,
where is she who shot a man in Reno
he sang soon you will see
the cattleyards of Roma

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15 Comments »

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  1. seems the piano has good reason to drink…

  2. Talking to yourself by proxy? Okay, I suppose that’s okay if you duck-hook a wedge or shank consecutive lay-ups on the long par five you really need to birdie, but on your blog? Well, that’s just wrong, man…

  3. Oh, and if you like Ry Cooder, check out John Prine for some real wisdom.

  4. Lovely. and how true. I especially enjoyed the opening line ‘something given to you which will never be yours.’

  5. Heh, Bob, I am reading your auotbiography in my reader as you go along and then when i half a few hours to go play a round I am gonna read the whole thing and see if there is a consistent voice, a certain swing through the whole thing that is yours but also make sure that voice gets older as you go through it which will be the thrid dimension wooohooo, i talk to myself in here just to keep notes of my thoughts, blogging is very silly, i am not blogging no more,
    harmonie, you are a gift, you are a gift to me and so are your comments, something given which will never be mine,

  6. And you wonder why you are surrounded by beautiful women? hmmm, I don’t think you’re talking to yourself only, you have a flock of good readers.

    {{{[{{{{{{{take that}}}}}}}}}}}}], take this right back (you)

  7. Well, are you talking to me?! Wish somebody would..
    hello, what did you think of my pome?

  8. wow you’ve taken the country music idiom and rocketed Johnny Cash into a whole new beautiful place which has something in common with the romantic poets and the universal lullaby, if you will, you know a soothing quality which oddly Mr. Cash had all along, but you bought it out beatifully,

    strangely, you have expressed just why one shouldn’t be embarassed to listen to country music 😀 this work has that same resonance that Cash’s best songs did. And he is someone who needs to be reclaimed by one with good intentions, after that really quite dire biopic film.

    And I haven’t even begun to address the other elements of it – a pertinant call for change. a vital message, well expressed.

  9. I feel somewhat like I have parachuted into a jungle, lush and verdant, but I dropped my compass. Should I go forward, or back? (or sideways?) I’ll go back, then forward.

  10. Don’t get the musical references, but I like the message and the way it is phrased and flow of sounds and the concrete sound of the slamming the glass and the visual image of the doffing of the hat.

  11. Thankyou, this comment stream is really useful to me. I can get a grip on the kind of flowon effect out of the poem and I honestly value it when people say I didn’t understand or i didn’t get this or that because there is no point writing if noone can understand. Especially writer reading, perfectly named and you have defined a problem common I think, in that if I make say the musical reference too popular and well known they don’t really say much that people don’t aready know, if i make them too esoteric i am only talking to a very few people, so maybe they are only acting as advertisements for the music, or even just myself, again, never mind as i say, i don’t blog i am trying to make something, a wordmachine that works, i freely admit to being as mad as a whilrlygig, so no harm done,

  12. haha. your comments to yourself are fabulous. i love how philosophical you get in some of these pieces. so thought-provoking.

    and thank you. i saw what you put about one of my pieces on google reader. i may just print it and keep it nearby for one of my terrible, self-doubting days.
    I meant every word, Lissa, whoosh, just like that, right past me,

  13. Whirligig! Ha! Is that a diagnosis?

  14. i just discovered Tom Waits recently {{bad, bad me}} and am completely worshipful of him.
    stating the obvious but this definitely brings to mind the falling/failing of empires…

  15. There can be justice without any peace but there can be no peace without justice. Wyatt Earp should have said that. But I did. There’s a new marshal in town yip-a-ty-yee.


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