Archive for the ‘Spirit’ Category

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Mary Chapin Carpenter

Tuesday, July 20th, 2010

This has been been one of my anthem songs since she first brought it out – and I come closer to knowing why this year as I understand that we are the same age – the same year – the same vein – and mary you’ve done it better than most ever dreamed of and you’ve done it all along… and if I post this one I have to post the other one… but we start here

This one stirs every fiber of my being perhaps for the 2nd verse…

It’s a photograph taken in Paris
At the end of the honey moon in 1948
late in the month of June
Your parents parents smile for the camera
In sienna shades of light
Now you’re older than they were then that summer night.
Come on Come on…


but in the end it is this one that make me her undying fan forever
and ever and it is this one that leaves me so sill so full so wanting more.

The essence of Mary in my opinion is this one…

afer all… Why walk when you can fly?

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Jeremy Jackson: A Rude Awakening on the State of the Oceans

Monday, July 5th, 2010

This piece was and is very very disturbing to me. I am an ocean child; born and raised and always drawn to the coastlines and islands of the world… I do not handle ‘inland’ well.

It’s not that I don’t love mountains, I just prefer them in the sea.

Or at least near by.

Because I am in my early 50’s I am near enough to this man’s age
to have borne witness to what he speaks of…

I went out on a deep sea fishing boat as a child in the ’60s.
my catch was not so impressive, at 22lbs, but to me
it was the world.

Today’s catch is ‘big’ at 4lbs…

His photographs make it plain.
And his research makes it plainer.

As a child I picked wild mussels, fished flounder,
mackerel and catfish – knew waters salt and fresh
alive with life.

The oceans were whole and healthy, wild and clean.

I still live by the ocean.

And thankfully for me, she is still
clean (er) and whole enough
… for now.

We fail to listen
at our own peril.

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This circa 2000 something Martin Guitar

Saturday, July 3rd, 2010

It was Danny’s idea – a craigslist ad for
a martin guitar which somehow
nobody noticed…

turned out to be a friend of his.

I couldn’t go less
than he asked on principle
once I saw the guitar and met the boy
with the cash in my hands.

Tonight.
Tonight, the new wood the action
and a world of the past and a lot of guitars
that were not martins came calling.

More of this
Less of everything else.

it said

It was not Robert’s D 28
1930 rosewood Martin
but it was somehow not
less than this, either, in its way.

Clean new wood smell
perfect action

a little woosey – I had to
stress the neck and action – push a little…
no one argued.

hours and plenty of memories
and new wanders later…

The message had not changed.

More of this
Less of everything else.

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The View From Here…

Tuesday, June 22nd, 2010

As the rhetoric wars rage on

The pelicans die
the fish die
the turtles die

the egrets die
the hermit crabs die
the marshes die
the gulf dies.

Swept up in the machinery of a
BP controlled Media Event…

They disappear from the scene like
so much yesterday’s news.

Without a trace.

Some locals tell us
their carcasses are
removed in stealth

Baby birds
turtles
swaths of fish
raked up
netted up
‘disappeared’.

to keep the world quiet.

To let it go on
as it is.

Uncontrolled

unabated,

unbridled destruction of life
and planet
beyond comprehension.

The world waits…
and watches.

Offers of assistance
are ignored

As the warlords
of money and greed
control the scene of their reckless destruction
to their own ends
at the expense of everything else.

No one balks.

Day after day
nothing changes.

Clean up workers don’t wear respirators.

Toxic oil, fumes, tar balls, gasses, and
vapors rise up into their bodies.

Who are these local people
so desperate for work
they will risk their lives
to obey these
masters.

Birds are decapitated
and removed

to where?

Oil laden victims
buried in
silence
and stealth
somewhere where their
bodies will, undoubtedly,
leave a toxic
legacy.

No one,
it seems
has the power
to stop this madness.

And we call it
what?

What do we
call this?

Purposeful self destruction
under
imaculate
leadership?

It is said that
the human needs
a culture… a society

that we are

social
creatures.

But when the human
has no internal compass
no internal society
of self…

what is the human

Other than
a plague upon the earth?

How have those
who could have
and can
help

with know how
skills
wisdom
ability…

allowed those who
created the disaster
in recklessness

To control
their response.

That is
the
one
baffling question.

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Twilight

Friday, May 28th, 2010

The wind has died
down from its earlier dancing.

No more sun dappled breezes blow
now it is quiet.

The wind chimes sound. Note
for note.

One at a time, in delicate harmonies
barely overlapping.

As the stars gradually step out
to reveal themselves

Against a still sun backlit
sky.

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Cycles and Circles

Saturday, May 22nd, 2010

So  much algae bloom:
strip of blue green singing to the sun.

Winter winds blasting
oceans into high mist against rocky
coastlines.

Still night air holding back time
in some vast oasis of dark silent space.
We are captured  in its presence.
Then moving on again.

So it is with life.

breaths in
and out

So consistant they become rythmic
So invisible  as to be persistent.

Pattern.

Becomes

Always now.

We ride like blind champions.

Never, often, even becoming
aware of the presence.

It comes

and goes.

Sometimes early, sometimes late
depending on and compared
to our perspective.

Somehow we know
still we come.

We gather ourselves up

And toss ourselves across
the open shore.

Event horizon
calling us ever on

We come.

Breaths in
and out.

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Threshold… s

Thursday, May 13th, 2010

It is as if

at some point
so far unknown to you

until it reaches present time

Things are unfolding.

On some level of being
some place of knowing
things are happening

But lie unseen to the common observer

(which as it happens, is you, at the time)

Motion, co-motion e-motion
stirring
moving
beneath the surface.

But not so deep it is in-discernible

It is there.
You know it is.

When, seemingly, ‘out of nowhere’
it appears
everybody gasps.

But you knew.
knew it was coming, if not how
or what it would look like, when it came.

You can live from the place of the great mystery unravelling upon itself in so much shock and awe..

Or step into what you know and be a little less’ surprised’.

Always your choice.

Free will and all that.

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ReUnion with the Heart and Soul – Bruce Cockburn and All the Years Since it Began

Saturday, April 3rd, 2010

Mines of Mozambique is playing in my ears
as I have reawakened through a night
of
reunion starting with speechless which is the instrumental
work published 2005-

Heart newly awakened and alive as the rythyms and notes tumpble through me like old friends

Harmonies rise up out of me like voices of their own and I do not protest or avoid, letting them rise up and out like new life rushing through me after a long silent sort of death

Now I’m hooked and can’t stop – and Pacing the Cage, Tie Me at the CrossRoads and a dozen other old favorites move through me like water, like blood like life itself

and it is like a home coming I didn’t know I had lost until this moment
in time
in sound
in melody
lyric
and
knowing

thanks
bc


you
brought me
home again

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sometimes you just gotta let’er rip Steve Miller does it for me…

Friday, March 12th, 2010

It’s like the world is moving into some surrealistic motion picture but it hasn’t quite caught up to me and I am still running ahead of the tide but just barely…

thanks steve for sayin’ it like it is and she keeps callin’ and flying by me….

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On a Roll… Well it just feels good

Saturday, February 13th, 2010

all along there was incidents and accidents there was hints and allegations

oh man if you need to move this will do it…

thx Paul!

nah na nah naa na naa na nah

if you be my body guard
I can be your long lost pal
if you call me Eddie I can call you Al
Call you Al

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