life is a wonderful thing,

June 13, 2008 at 9:15 pm | Posted in music, pictures | 18 Comments
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oh well,

RIP

June 4, 2008 at 6:53 pm | Posted in blogging, music, writing | 9 Comments
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rolling in paradise sitting on the front steps
mourning the passing of Bo Diddley (though
it is surely better to rejoice in his having
lived)
Narcissus feels a tap on his shoulder, a reminder to interpolate translation of the fundamentally heiroglyphical as in that which can be told is not the true way, since language is linear forever redefining meaning by expanding the context til it’s too late gone like a butterfly which was a good idea,
However, if we could construct a language of echoes, the source, the one would still resonate by implication most evident when forgotten,
Shave and haircut the old jazzmen used to call the rhythm Bo Diddley picked up and added to the Blues to make his rock ‘n roll. Suddenly Screaming Jay Hawkins appears popping up from behind the bar,

Bo Diddley (RIP) Screaming Jay Hawkins (who wrote I Put A Spell On You) Nina Simone (Goddess)

The Good Samaritan (3).

May 31, 2008 at 9:42 pm | Posted in music | 21 Comments
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Alright, keep moving, nothing to see here. Give him some air. It’s alright, son, it’s just a scratch. Let me have a look. Whew, that’s a lot of blood. I’ve called an ambulance, they’ll be here soon and in the meantime, he said putting his headphones over my ears, just close your eyes and relax, listen to the angels,

“It’s nice to be a lunatic,” Ian Dury (1942-2000)

I’ve had a few,

May 24, 2008 at 8:12 pm | Posted in antihaiku, blogging, music | 11 Comments
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but then again,

Inspiracy.

April 15, 2008 at 7:28 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 10 Comments
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Now that noone reads me no more cos my pottery is broke except people who have already read far too much of me, ohh he says, flicking his towel, i can speak my own language, i can give examples,

MERCY

he is sitting on the beach behind his sandcastle
with something long and white hanging out of his mouth
like a half swallowed lure,

i shall antihaiku all night thru,
dance my wicked games on you,
no safety nor surprise will do,
until i see that purple moon,

later wandering aimless down the beach, cheap wine
and a four day growth, chisel, man!
i’m shipping steel, yeah, shipping steel,

in the dawn a billion soldier crabs
through some strange signal
dissappeear like a blue sheet
evaporating into the sand

and he is still carrying the knife
in one hand and in the other
the trophy, neither fish,
nor man,

mythodology

March 28, 2008 at 8:24 pm | Posted in music, writing | 11 Comments
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(Keith Jarrett. “All The Things You Are”)

i must admit in the spirit of Randallian honesty
that i am listening to Keith Jarrett again through the headphones.
he is ablaze like a Sumedhian garden, as precise and transcendentally
accurate as a vision of Jo’s.
i have returned from Perception Point with a finer sense
of an articulate and harmonious future,
been persuaded by Scot Young of the utility of truth and passion,
have seen not so secret smiles exchanged between Lakota and her piratepoet
and been between two Peters poised,
travelled with Amuirin ascendant and seen an Enigma resolve into the simple truth
of a mother’s love.

the truth is easy and selfevident, its expression a delight,
but now i must return to the wonders of the night,

just keep going,

March 22, 2008 at 3:58 pm | Posted in writing | 19 Comments
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the last page of the new manuscript, get in and have a look while you can ‘cos the old man is on my back about giving stuff away and writing silly poems for my own amusement,

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