Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Just Some Stuff in No Particular Order!

How I love this little song - it has a heart fulfilling uniqueness and beauty that rises above so many similar tunes and adds glory to your vision and lifts up your emotions adding joy.


Wow - I really enjoyed this little album. I especially enjoyed the singing in the second track - it sounded so earthy and anciently mystical. I had to put down whatever I was doing to listen carefully - the sounds brought me into the ancient tropical forests - some discussion going on here - interesting topics and beautiful ambient music - and a nice long jog through the arboreal wilderness, scenting the thousands of stories of the residents therein, ears perked up to catch the drift of sounds and heart ready to plunge into the next adventure around the next bend or over the distant river . . . . fantasy inducing music - a marvelous success with me.

A little Stykz video made by Max O.
I loved the creativity and sweet story line on this very short video.
He said he was not done yet so will post finished product later.

So this one was done by Joshua B. - The Hulk - last minute job, he was anxious to get his video in so we finished after school.
I tell the boys that if they want their stuff published they will have to forgo the violence. No swords, guns, blood or heads rolling. Sigh . . .  bless their little boy hearts . . . its very hard for them but I think they try. 

I can't get over how good this music is - quite epic in appeal and monumental; definitely an interest holder.

A poem from: October 9, 1980 - I think this actually happened, or at least my perception of the events:

We ran in the wind
And sucked
In deep breaths
The nectar
Of the maroon
The wooded bridge
We danced
To the song
Of the Wood duck
And threw
Silver stars
Into the lake.
The trees bent down
To hear our whispers
But we shouted
To the gay hills
And ran away
Faster than the lonely cry
Of the night.

But then
We gathered
Ourselves in
And chuckled
To ourselves. 

October 20, 1980
Fly away free bird
I see your wings
In the golden sun.

Fly away free bird
I see the grey clouds
Across the weeping sky.

Fly away free bird
I am going with you
For the eternal stars.

Fly away free bird
I dream of it too
Freely along with you.

Another from 1980

I wander in the shadows
       of the night
Seeking anywhere
A ray of hope
A gleam of light
I listen for laughter
I hear only sighs
In the darkness
In the night.


This poem, written in 1978, was a shock for me to run into, as it reminded me of my belief as a child that I was but the dream of a bear in hibernation. I would think about that bear daily as I washed the dishes (an excruciatingly boring chore) but it gave me time to think about this bear who was the real me, dreaming she was a girl, bored out of her mind. This belief came before my years of believing that I was a space alien child . . .  but that is another tale for another time . . .

 All my life I wonder
If my ultimate being
Is but a figment of my
Or dreams
Of times going by;
Or songs
Sung over lutes
By mysterious beings;
Or am I but the
Stark shadows
Inside the eyes
Of some creature in hibernation?
Could it be that I am
But spirit
With wild imaginations
Of more tangible things;
Or a fantasy of God
Who pulls the strings;
Or mere charges in some
Wild electrical storm?

Or could it be that
I exist
As me
In this time
To dream of better things?


Another poem from 1978
I actually like this one quite a bit as it is in one of my circular modes
with some decent flow. . .I remember I got this one from a picture, a photograph
of a brilliant sunset with a stark black silhouette against the crimson sky. . .I am actually quite surprised that I remember all that . . .

There was a garden
In my song
Covered in wild dew
And shards of cobweb
Fighting strong
Against erosion
By whispering winds.

There was a sunset
In my garden
Ladeling promises
Of new beginnings
And glorious tomorrows
To light the ways.

There was a tree
In my sunset
Starkly outlined
In black repose
Standing wary
Of any retreat.

There was a bird
In my tree
Hurrying the sun
With his song
Longing for diamonds
Under his wings.

There was a garden
In my bird
Covered in secrets
And living instinct
Wild and tame
Fighting strong
Against erosion
And progress. 


Knocking on doors
day after day
like the ultimate salesman
not selling but buying.
I ask the question
"Why, Why
Is it all melting away?
Where does it go?
like the snowman
on a warm winter's day
it just disappears.
Surely its there
Somewhere around
hidden by waves
of madness.
Perhaps it moved
over there
beneath the trees
or on the top of a mountain,
beneath the sea;
But why, why?"

Where does one find it
after it is lost
Perhaps it just
in appearance.
What is happiness anyway?


I was very depressed during this period of my life. 1978
All the rest of these poems are written between 1978 and 1980

I saw myself
On the top of a hill
Leaning lightly
On a stalk of wheat
I was laughing
At the sunlight
Glowing, flowing
All around me
Laughter, joy fed my soul
As honey
Thick and sweet

I stood in the valley
and watched myself
as I cried
in the dark.


There's always magic
in a circle
Like the ring on the merry-go-round
And a ring of bright smiles
A circle of children
Playing children's games
Around and around
A circle is eternal
People facing people
A ring around a finger
Arms around a neck
A song around a song
The ring of life
The seabirds circling
The earth around
And a ring of mushrooms
The elves dance around
From the circle of atoms
To the ring around the moon
To the circle of planets
All around the sun
To the circle of stars
In the ball of the universe
There's always magic
in a circle


The alpine blooms
Look like colored confetti
Scattered by the winds
That play
With the baby clouds
And I sit
In my special place
The frowning mountain peaks
Lording over the valleys
Of the tiny village,
Down there somewhere
At the end of the pathway
With tiny people
At work or play
Living in the umbra
Of the colossal mountains
Giants tumbled
    from the stars.

Mary -
sweet lady
in the dark
What happened
to the days
behind you?
- youth
was it ever
really there?
why have you
come here?
to this age.
this lonely place
in the window.
do you still
count the stars
as you used to 
so long ago
as a child
lying in the grass
on your mountaintop?
was it ever
really there?
the days
fly by
so empty now.
your time
so nearly spent.
your tide
is going out.
sweet lady
do not weep
for time gone by..
I am here
to hold your
and live your youth.
now mine.



In the downy feathers of the birds
One finds the softness of life
As the clouds in the sky
And the foam on the sea.

The shadows clinging gently
To the old trodden earth
Wipe out the scars and the sighs
Leaving wispy leaves to glow.

In the sky slowly turning
Lonely moon and friendly stars
Softly haloed in the darkness
Gently smiling in their light.


I felt so differently then
In those days
So long ago.
What I wrote down then
Seems to me to be
out of the mouths of strangers.
What is the changing growth
That took me over?
What great powers
Does it play
On the minds
of those beneath it?

Who am I
That I was
A stranger to me now?

Who am I
That I will be
The person of tomorrow?


All is shadow,
nothing but shadow.
All that we see
but reflections
at the base
of our minds.
Wishing does not
the Truth;
But Truth
stands in back
of the crowd.


Big blue boulders
Stand in the movement
Of frothing green sward.
Sun glinting objects
Jitterbug in lacy gold.
Scarlet blue dreams
Gad about like poppies
Gossip in groups
As the birds
Park on peaks.
Sweet sugar tricklets
Golden as honey
Flow freely and lively
From  boulders of blue.


Beyond the fire mountain
There is a promise green
and hope lies in a moment
or the rushing of a stream

Beyond the fire mountain
Love and grace have met
Before the sun can rise
The sun has got to set


Midnight Island

Red moon bloated
Sinks behind
   the sea waves.
Darking urchins
Between the splintered tides.
Deepened sounds
Betray the living
Creations dying.
Flitting stars
Dancing behind
Cooling sea mists.
Fingers of God
Reach out and fling
       the sands.
Purple night
Desiring silver light. 
And the wind
Blows away a sigh.
But the palm trees
Bend down
And drink of the deep. 


The old men sit
on park benches
placed in order
around the scum covered fountain
of a curly head youth
gaping at them
through unknowing eyes
and from a leaden vase
he pours a crystal water
to splash and swirl
away at his feet

The old men sit
beating hearts
in unison
 gazing with gray eyes
up at the tall
buildings surrounding
the park in the city

The old men sit
watching the
early morning traffic
the busy throbbing traffic
and a city bird
hides away
singing a sad song
to awaken
the city people

the old men sit
and one begins to speak
"i was a young boy once
and the country was young
where there are tall buildings now
there were tall trees
shedding pine cones
and squirrels
in the summer there were apples
and tree houses
and wild forest pets
our neighbors lived three
miles away
and there was peace

i was a young man once
and there were wars
and men were men
and they would fight
for their beloved country
and the flag they
would raise with pride

i was married once
and my wife was young
and i loved her
and we had children

i am an old man now
my wife has passed away
my children are grown
and they are a part
of this new world
and i am not
and i hope
soon to die"

the old men sit
on the benches
and they nod
their shabby old heads
and they all
begin to talk
 about the day
 when they were young


Ok - one more and then I am done for the night or - ah - early morning . . . there are so many of them . . . like sawdust from my mind . . . where did they all come from . . . I haven't even begun -

Time was -
As the sea roared at our feet
We braved each oncoming wave
Time was -
When the sky poured,
New lakes were discovered
by our well worn
     rubber boots
Time was -
The sky and earth
In matching white
Created new playgrounds
    and we became snowmen
Time was -
When God sent forth
blue skies, smiling sun,
Dancing flowers
As we spilled forth
Energy, creating and destroying
Time was -
As we laughed and wept
Minutes were lived fully
Caution was not known
Time was -
And exceeded all invention
       of man
As we loved and hated
Every second 
       every day
Time was -
So full - then -
And as I sit here now
No more the child
With time,
Of love, wisedom, timeless
Time was - 
But where have I lost it?
Was it only a dream?
As a gift of eternity?
Time was
But it is gone
Each moment passing by
           and faster
Eternity passes by


These next few were written in the 90's:

November 19 -

In the crystal night
The snow puddled
              on the ground
like curdled milk
Sitting on a crosstown bus
with a squint-eyed moon
                   riding on my shoulder
lights of the city
sit below the hills
         like an expectant audience
The stage is set
           beyond each window
I catch a glimpse
       of lives elsewhere
eyes floating by
     in the fog
Souls of a drama
   unfurl behind me
on the seat of the bus
A story is told
    in a smile
a gesture

we read the event
with a knowledge
burnt into our hearts
by the experience


I saw white birds flying high
like crystal in a purple sky
and a rainbow's dream
reaching down
to the lost horizon on the ground
The sun dripping gold
at the hills all around
The sky as black
as space
the trees
a cape of lace.


Wolf laughs
As she hears the song
  of her children to
A moon so big
  it threatens to topple
  off the mountain.
Chips of ice
are scattered across
   the seas of space . . .
And wolf sighs
when the song is ended.
Her children hunt in the breezes and
Small wild things
rustle in the grasses;
a pounce and all is lost
A night again so bright
Moon paints black shadows,
  doorways to
  peaceful places.
Whiffling feathers cover the air
  as owl moves to glide
  across the white spaces,
  hooking a stray
  wild thing.
Wolf watches
And the night light
reflects against
the wisdom
lodged within her ageless eyes.


Rays of sunlight
turn my white cat
a crystal wisp
white on light
he tiptoes up the beam
with high designs
and settles on rainbow
his road going nowhere
a daily art
a dream eternal
to see
but not to be. . . .
Floating in space
a feather
stretching out past the stars
whiskers singed
at the edges of the galaxy
and his eartips

I wish I had more
  to give to the children --
Mend their hearts and socks
Feed their bruised egos
  and empty bellies
Brush the hurt from their souls
  and the hair from their eyes . . .
I wish to lift them high
   til their wings are strong
  and they soar as the eagle.
I wish to toss stars into their
and love in their hearts.
Set them on the pathway
of their gifts
watch them grow 
watch them go
  their own way.


A very old poem of mine - and long:

If The Snow Comes Just Let It Melt

They tell me to quit wandering
That I ought to settle down.
"The day of the tramps are done,"
They say;
"Get a job
Have a home and a family --
The best way to live."
     But look - - 
I only have about sixty more
Years to live on this old earth;
When I die
I'll settle down then
In one of two places
And I'll have to spend
The rest of eternity there.
So why can't I
While I still can
Have fun -- and learn
About life
Because Life is so full.

So why not let me wander
All over the world.

I don't cause no harm.

I got a letter yesterday;
I was living in a garage
And I found it
In a heap of old junk...
Jewelry, clothing and feathers
From some old society
That had lost a battle.
It was from some man
And it was beautiful
With fragile dying words
Like - - "Sweet heart"
"Flowers of my heart"
And more to rend my peace of mind
To make me wonder --
Is it true?
Or did he just copy
It out of some old dusty book
With carved Covers
That he found in his attic?
But when I finished
The meaningless letter
As it surely must have been
Even to him
I threw it back in the pile
Of old junk.

I came upon a peach orchard once
And I picked all day.
I made twenty bucks
And some odd coin.
I lost it all
But I didn't care
For I had gained an experience
And I lost nothing
Nothing that meant anything to me.
A farmer let me sleep in his barn
In an empty stall
And I had peaches and cream
For dinner.

The Scottish moved to Rome
And the Romans moved to Scotland
I wasn't surprised
And it didn't affect me.
But I had to pretend I wasn't Communist
Even though I wasn't.
I agreed I didn't set bombs
And I don't move
From Scotland to Rome
From Rome to Scotland.
What difference does it make to me?
I don't know whats going on.

Someday I'll run away forever
From the old world
of playboys, witches and fish,
I'll be just me
Dreaming my dreams
I'll never shovel snow
I'll just let it melt.

May the Good Lord bless you all --
Excuse me I've got to laugh.
See me in the morning
When the sun arises, 
I'll never let it set.
See me at the ocean
When the tide comes in --
It never goes out.
You'll see me
On a mountaintop maybe.
On a hillside walking
In a forest climbing trees
Eating fruits and nuts
Playing with rabbits.
But never ever find me
Shoveling snow


When the snow comes
Just let it melt.



No comments: