July 19, 2017
"To Make You Feel My Love" - Bob Dylan
July 14, 2017
"But tonight I
am so alone.
Alone! Indeed one might think I was pitying myself
for it!
"If you live
all alone," said Brague, "It's because you really want to, isn't
it?"
Certainly I
"really" want to, and in fact I want to, quite simply. Only, well...there are days when solitude,
for someone of my age, is a heady wine which intoxicates you with freedom,
others when it is a bitter tonic, and still others when it is a poison which
makes you beat your head against the wall.
This evening I would
much prefer not to say which it is; all I want is to rmain undecided, and not
to be able to say whether the shiver which will seize me when I slip between
the cold sheets comes from fear or contentment."
...from "The Vagabond "by
Colette (an author I liked in my youth and although I relate to the above, did not find this novel sufficiently absorbing to finish. Also, upon further research her personal life leaves much to be desired. (Glad, in retrospect, I was not one to sacrifice the well being of my child on the altar of art.)
By the way, about "noli me tangere"...I get it. Whereas the heart is young and passions may yet be roused, speaking just for myself, a look in the mirror makes it shockingly clear "it's" not something I'd want to offer, without misgivings, even for love, at this juncture. Maybe for those who have actually lived their lives together...and yes miracles do happen, but it ain't necessarily so and I must be satisfied, or should be? Besides there is much to share, d.m.,"all or nothing at all" notwithstanding, as we both know only too well.
"The Man in the Long Black Coat" Bob Dylan
July 12, 2017
"To Make You Feel My Love"...how much reassurance does a person need anyhow! Well, you must consider I was mad as a march hare when I thought I'd accept an invitation to dance in the first place and this bourgeoisie existence (although thankful for a modicum of safety certainly), is something I wanted to escape from forever it seems (but had to earn a living and as we know, the establishment is patient.) It has grounded me (or unmoored, depending on how you look at it). Managing to compartmentalize the way I've lived, a double life in a way, was challenging and a slice of reality right about now, that is to say "speak" or "see" in real time, would very much reassert that I'm not in this fairy tale alone. So that's the territory you're bound to venture into when you get involved with idealistic, romantic souls.
"I dreamed Romantic facts of musketeers
Foundationed deep, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now"
Foundationed deep, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now"
from "My Back Pages" B. Dylan
"What Was It You Wanted?" by Bob Dylan
What was it you wanted? Tell me again so I’ll know
What’s happening in there
What’s going on in your show
What was it you wanted
Could you say it again?
I’ll be back in a minute
You can get it together by then
What was it you wanted
You can tell me, I’m back
We can start it all over
Get it back on the track
You got my attention
Go ahead, speak
What was it you wanted
When you were kissing my cheek?
Was there somebody looking
When you give me that kiss
Someone there in the shadows
Someone that I might have missed?
Is there something you needed
Something I don’t understand
What was it you wanted
Do I have it here in my hand?
Whatever you wanted
Slipped out of my mind
Would you remind me again
If you’d be so kind
Has the record been breaking
Did the needle just skip
Is there somebody waiting
Was there a slip of the lip?
What was it you wanted
I ain’t keeping score
Are you the same person
That was here before?
Is it something important?
Maybe not
What was it you wanted?
Tell me again I forgot
Whatever you wanted
What could it be
Did somebody tell you
That you could get it from me
Is it something that comes natural
Is it easy to say
Why do you want it
Who are you anyway?
Is the scenery changing
Am I getting it wrong
Is the whole thing going backwards
Are they playing our song?
Where were you when it started
Do you want it for free
What was it you wanted
Are you talking to me?
What’s happening in there
What’s going on in your show
What was it you wanted
Could you say it again?
I’ll be back in a minute
You can get it together by then
What was it you wanted
You can tell me, I’m back
We can start it all over
Get it back on the track
You got my attention
Go ahead, speak
What was it you wanted
When you were kissing my cheek?
Was there somebody looking
When you give me that kiss
Someone there in the shadows
Someone that I might have missed?
Is there something you needed
Something I don’t understand
What was it you wanted
Do I have it here in my hand?
Whatever you wanted
Slipped out of my mind
Would you remind me again
If you’d be so kind
Has the record been breaking
Did the needle just skip
Is there somebody waiting
Was there a slip of the lip?
What was it you wanted
I ain’t keeping score
Are you the same person
That was here before?
Is it something important?
Maybe not
What was it you wanted?
Tell me again I forgot
Whatever you wanted
What could it be
Did somebody tell you
That you could get it from me
Is it something that comes natural
Is it easy to say
Why do you want it
Who are you anyway?
Is the scenery changing
Am I getting it wrong
Is the whole thing going backwards
Are they playing our song?
Where were you when it started
Do you want it for free
What was it you wanted
Are you talking to me?
"Born in Time" Bob Dylan
"You hang the flame, you’ll pay the price"
July 12, 2017
On my mind? Seems to me all of your time, d.m. is consumed by your work and since much of your work reflects your life...well. It has enriched our world. The price that had to be paid known only to those involved.
Seems to me the book should have been closed some time back. It's just too damned hard. But unlike you, d.m. I got nowhere to go, no one to see, nothing to say...yeah, "just walkin." An alternative of sorts.
"Tangled Up in Blue" is still on the set list after all these years. Seems to me since that goes back to 1975 (never mind ancient history of 1968), and you keep on keeping on and yep, perhaps one way of looking at it is that you're breaking it to me gently. An alternative of sorts.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYE_7Kp53QA
July
4, 2017
jammed, mired & snow bound
while Ceres & Proserpina reenact each season
inscrutable renegade, you emblazoned an era
past vicissitudes & you on her mind
how bleak your compulsory "noli me tangere"
Fides decries the conduct of her companions
satyrs & rakes & a cherubim she had to forgo
impermeably was the cut & thrust of intrigue
a carapace of stoicism enfolds her
once she dined on silphium and asafedida
Edesia and Bibesia envied her opportunities
once she tasted absinthe & caroused with lemures
how oppressive the scent of sultry gardenias now
how inestimably dull to apportion blame
how unutterably desolate as the pall of sorrow prevails
Queen of Swords
July 2, 2017
"Mississippi" - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j-jBfR42lds
by Bob Dylan
June 27, 2017
Bob Dylan's "Make You Feel My Love" is one of the finest songs of our time.
"Everything is Broken" - Bob Dylan (inadvertently followed by the moving and stately melody of "Is Your Love in Vain"? -- well, it figures.
(Note: June 22 personal phone info removed)
June 26, 2017
"Got to Serve Somebody" Bob Dylan
"The dreams are still with me: vivid,
bursting with colour and music, suffused with light. Dreams in which he comes to me without
fail. A serpent. A sparrow. A shower of sparks.
"He tells me he is watching me. He tells me he knows me better than I know
myself.
Pa
dusham...soul to soul.
I love him for himself. I don't want anything in return.
An artist can thrive on much less, for
years, for a lifetime. Forever."
Oh to be THAT idealistic, that angelic!
(from "Chosen Maiden" - hardly a literary masterpiece but it prompted me to research the lives of Nijinsky, Nureyev and Baryshnikov --http://factsanddetails.com/russia/Arts_Culture_Media_and_Sports/sub9_4c/entry-5051.html
Under
Your Spell
Written by: Bob Dylan and Carole Bayer Sager
"Somethin’ about you that I can’t shake
Don’t know how much more of this I can take
Baby, I’m under your spell
I was knocked out and loaded in the naked night
When my last dream exploded, I noticed your light
Baby, oh what a story I could tell
It’s been nice seeing you, you read me like a book
If you ever want to reach me, you know where to look
Baby, I’ll be at the same hotel
I’d like to help you but I’m in a bit of a jam
I’ll call you tomorrow if there’s phones where I am
Baby, caught between heaven and hell
But I will be back, I will survive
You’ll never get rid of me as long as you’re alive
Baby, can’t you tell
Well it’s four in the morning by the sound of the birds
I’m starin’ at your picture, I’m hearin’ your words
Baby, they ring in my head like a bell
Everywhere you go it’s enough to break hearts
Someone always gets hurt, a fire always starts
You were too hot to handle, you were breaking every vow
I trusted you baby, you can trust me now
Turn back baby, wipe your eye
Don’t think I’m leaving here without a kiss goodbye
Baby, is there anything left to tell?
I’ll see you later when I’m not so out of my head
Maybe next time I’ll let the dead bury the dead
Baby, what more can I tell?
Well the desert is hot, the mountain is cursed
Pray that I don’t die of thirst
Baby, two feet from the well"
Baby, I’m under your spell
I was knocked out and loaded in the naked night
When my last dream exploded, I noticed your light
Baby, oh what a story I could tell
It’s been nice seeing you, you read me like a book
If you ever want to reach me, you know where to look
Baby, I’ll be at the same hotel
I’d like to help you but I’m in a bit of a jam
I’ll call you tomorrow if there’s phones where I am
Baby, caught between heaven and hell
But I will be back, I will survive
You’ll never get rid of me as long as you’re alive
Baby, can’t you tell
Well it’s four in the morning by the sound of the birds
I’m starin’ at your picture, I’m hearin’ your words
Baby, they ring in my head like a bell
Everywhere you go it’s enough to break hearts
Someone always gets hurt, a fire always starts
You were too hot to handle, you were breaking every vow
I trusted you baby, you can trust me now
Turn back baby, wipe your eye
Don’t think I’m leaving here without a kiss goodbye
Baby, is there anything left to tell?
I’ll see you later when I’m not so out of my head
Maybe next time I’ll let the dead bury the dead
Baby, what more can I tell?
Well the desert is hot, the mountain is cursed
Pray that I don’t die of thirst
Baby, two feet from the well"
June 24, 2017
"Blind Willie McTell" - Bob Dylan
Feels so strange this life. So far away the past. So bizarre and sorrowful.
So this is what it feels like when the wheels fall off.
June 22, 2017
"I Shall Be Released" Bob Dylan
The song that summoned my sister. Some called her "Big Al," (a joke on Capone -- a pacifist, small of stature but big on personality, or so they said)... some called her "Hazel."
"We'll meet again someday on the avenue." Maybe "in the sweet bye and bye."
Approx. 1987-88
June 19, 2017
Slow Train Coming - Bob Dylan 1980
June 13, 2017
"Series of Dreams" - Bob Dylan
May 7, 2014
What did you do yesterday? Worked on one of those fantastic metal gates that somebody can brag about one day and pay millions for that might feed a village? Love live ART, regardless. Did you paint? Did you compose another song? Lord help us, we can't keep track. Did you rehearse stuff for your next tour? Did you spend time with loved ones? (is wife no. 3 still in the picture?)
Did you do nothing!? I doubt it.
Love has always been a major subject for artists but I celebrate songs of yours during the years that delve into other areas. "Senor" and "High Water" come immediately to mind but there are others.
Watched the Korean "Secret Affair" yesterday...if one can be patient and get over a lot of the serious classical piano tinkling, there was one part of a composition of music that was very melodic, moving and romantic. But spending a good hour researching every piece on the net, could not segregate that piece...that composer. I wanted to share it with you.
On to "The Day Will Come" about a cruel boys home. Those Danes and Scandinavians in general can really make some real tear-jerkers. I kid you not. Something to cry about.
Also "Without Gorky", a documentary about the painter Arshile Gorky, one I would not recommend (seemed there was something not quite genuine about the family...like capitalizing after the fact-- also not a captivating account.) It did, however, again illustrate how difficult it is for artists to manage family (incidentally, you may recall, I am not a fan of modern art) and how unhappy so many artists are. ALSO, how often recognition (fame/money) makes an appearance after death, sometimes much later. At any rate, he had a rather gruesome end and I can well understand his choice.
May 24, 2017
d.m.:
this grand soul you got survived, against all odds, that
rolling rock sentence,
to better add your feature to immortality.
songs that stay, songs that obliterate the way --
seeing through your eyes, scene and happenstance transformed
caught in a cache so pure, your life resounded, it astounded,
to listen was to long finding the dwelling you inhabit
music transported, melodies cascaded, rhythm drove it home
personal notes bold, tender, or in sermon bound, took to the
target right on cue.
leaving more than a trace, you lifted heart and spirit
throughout
insight and pleasure, a potent mix of magic, to celebrate
this day
a man extraordinary and irreplaceable.
May 15, 2017
Beyond Here Lies Nothing - Bob Dylan
You, d. m. live in my heart and mind each and every day. How could I ever forget?
May 9, 2017
Brooklyn Heights by Bob Dylan
This one is a favorite. Not only 'cause I lived there for almost a decade (the view from my side window is almost exact), as well as the two people. The painting is inviting and engaging.
__________________________________________
May 1, 2017
"Something's Burning, Baby"
Lyrics
Something is burning, baby, are you aware?
Something is the matter, baby, there's smoke in your hair
Are you still my friend, baby, show me a sign
Is the love in your heart for me turning blind?…
Something is the matter, baby, there's smoke in your hair
Are you still my friend, baby, show me a sign
Is the love in your heart for me turning blind?…
Something is burning, baby, are you aware?
Something is the matter, baby, there's smoke in your hair
Are you still my friend, baby, show me a sign
Is the love in your heart for me turning blind?
Something is the matter, baby, there's smoke in your hair
Are you still my friend, baby, show me a sign
Is the love in your heart for me turning blind?
You've been avoiding the main streets for a long, long while
The truth I'm seeking is in your missing smile
What's your position, baby, what's going on?
Why is the light in your eyes nearly gone?
The truth I'm seeking is in your missing smile
What's your position, baby, what's going on?
Why is the light in your eyes nearly gone?
I know everything about this place, or so it seems
But am I no longer a part of your plans or your dreams?
Well, it is so obvious that something has changed
What's happening, baby, to make you act so strange?
But am I no longer a part of your plans or your dreams?
Well, it is so obvious that something has changed
What's happening, baby, to make you act so strange?
Something is burning, baby, here's what I say
Even the bloodhounds of London couldn't find you today
I see the shadow of a man, baby, making you blue
Who is he, baby, and what's he to you?
Even the bloodhounds of London couldn't find you today
I see the shadow of a man, baby, making you blue
Who is he, baby, and what's he to you?
We've reached the edge of the road, baby, where the pasture begins
Where the charity is supposed to cover up a multitude of sins
But where do you live, baby, and where is the light?
Why are your eyes just staring off into the night?
Where the charity is supposed to cover up a multitude of sins
But where do you live, baby, and where is the light?
Why are your eyes just staring off into the night?
I can feel it, in the night, in the night, in the night when I think of you
I can feel it in the light, in the light, in the light and it's got to be true
You can't live by bread alone, you won't be satisfied
You can't roll away the stone if your hands are tied.
I can feel it in the light, in the light, in the light and it's got to be true
You can't live by bread alone, you won't be satisfied
You can't roll away the stone if your hands are tied.
Got to start someplace, baby, can you explain?
Please don't fade away on me, baby, like the midnight train
Answer me, baby, a casual look will do
Just what in the world has come over you?
Please don't fade away on me, baby, like the midnight train
Answer me, baby, a casual look will do
Just what in the world has come over you?
I can feel it in the wind, in the wind, in the wind and it's upside down
I can feel it in the dust as I get off the bus on the outskirts of town
I've had the Mexico City blues since the last hairpin curve
I don't want to see you bleed, I know what you need and it ain't what you deserve.
I can feel it in the dust as I get off the bus on the outskirts of town
I've had the Mexico City blues since the last hairpin curve
I don't want to see you bleed, I know what you need and it ain't what you deserve.
Something is burning, baby, something's in flames
There's a man going 'round calling names
Ring when you're ready, baby, I'm waiting for you
I believe in the impossible, you know that I do."
There's a man going 'round calling names
Ring when you're ready, baby, I'm waiting for you
I believe in the impossible, you know that I do."
Bob Dylan
Soon Bob Dylan will turn 76. Truly remarkable and it wouldn't surprise me if he kept on keeping on into his 80s a beyond. The gods were generous...in many ways.
"Little sister," by comparison, seems to move forward, only by staying put (having her wings clipped and not having choice.) Certainly her thoughts and feelings, although ranging from pillar to post, have remained essentially the same. Something to be said for that, I imagine...although what exactly, remains a mystery to her.
Certainly he has been the only person who has inspired me to write exclusively for him, over four decades. That I've inspired him to do likewise is something for him to relate, I suppose (although I could have been proud enough to shout it from the rooftops, had privacy and secrecy not been important to us both.)
From my archives:
12/24/14
severance incarnate
morning comes
assessment follows
vital as sun designated blooms,
disintegrating as all else...
i think of you.
celebrations burnished
festivities beckon
captured with abundant blaze,
dismantled for other times...
i think of you
night approaches
desire's polished recollections
burnished & relinquished,
living for solitary invitation...
i think of you.
Queen
of Swords
***
Date
Unknown
A Tale Untold
Seldom is form as important as function. We took the starlight and returned it to the
heavens. We climbed upon the golden calf
and rode it into the ground. If joy was
in the mix, it took a sabbatical. For
only fever and lightening and risk drove the chariot that worked its magic, to
make us think a tender touch was just somewhere down the road. We set aside the self made obstacles and
championed the heart of the matter, as if in soul alone we dwelled and in
spirit entwined we are bound to perish.
And now the crushing weight of yearning abides safely in familiarity's
domain. And passion, it lives on, secure
in that what was once, is now bequeathed to the world in songs to reach hearts
untouched -- to celebrate a tale untold.
Queen
of Swords
***
2009
BLOOD IN VAIN
Degrading, scathing, cold case post mortems -- your
negligent assumptions, your magnificent crowing achievements, the grandiosity
of your declarations, your confidences, your trust and the bone-dry assessment
s of how you present the truth follow me.
Unknown sources harnessed emotion and thought and dragged a
heartfelt commitment from my unwise choices.
Had it been another who truly caused you to forfeit my person in your
presence, the honor of your extraordinary tributes might have been
tolerable. As it is, you remember me
well.
Astounding that behind the bulkhead of the words you
borrowed, your talents grapple with self-inflicted wounds, as if nobility of
purpose undermined the importance of coming forth -- as if suitability determined
the transit of feeling.
"Forevermore" was transformed into a barrister's
phrase my docile nature will forgive no more and there is no argument with
probity and law. Excuses proliferated
but only saints remain forever doves.
Your empty promises tipped the scale, casting a
disadvantaged light on impassioned trysting in the night -- they disowned the
grace I lauded and discredited the love I invited.
Believing insanity could yield a miracle, agonizing pleasure
skimmed my soul, pleading with derisory confidence and slackening my appetite
for accountability. Years of karmic
penance secured deep in the illicit pleasure of appropriated paths of glory and
resulted in this solitude that brooks no argument.
Decades ago, a straightforward gesture of friendship
initiated your celebrated songs, speaking of romance, paradise and seduction,
but transfigured into a tortured web of desolate, embittered, regretful nights
during which the allure of your endowments left me defenseless and your
charisma did little to ease secret perpetual yearning.
Finally we're free.
Ironically our tangled know unraveled -- its silken cords fraying,
disintegrating like all else...as is inevitable.
Trepidation and inquisitiveness were part and parcel of our
love but perception, expectation, together they climbed mountains.
As the sleeping prophet you harbor and your sly voyeur
retreat, the waking hours silently weep for comforting caresses and inspired
conversations in the dark.
Secure in the knowledge that seasons are inalterable and
ever changing, it would appear even love abates when self-preservation is at
stake.
Beyond miscalculation, despair scoffs at self reliance and
gnaws at self-esteem. The mind is
seduced by diversion but the heart never forgets.
You offered me loving arms but would not relinquish your
power to withhold. Incorrigible and
intractable you tempt me with sentiment and your exquisiteness but deny me your
humanity.
Raucous music mimics a care freeness you don't possess and
simple phrases obscure our complicated history, as you spew venom and
complacently flaunt diamonds pledged to me.
Our demons cling and wish to be absolved. You grant them immunity from fault, brother,
but harden your spirit 'til no flower grows in your vacant lot.
Years of guarded waiting was to be endured, seemingly
forever, and in the end your slight of hand wasn't enough to translate into
deliverance. Ah lithesome spirit,
heedless and exuberant -- how parsimonious your presence, how graceful your
exit!
Reservations accost me daily as your astounding musical
expertise trails a shower of stars on the road that wears you down to a fine,
lethal flint.
Take your slavish concubines and your devoted wives, take
them of your rockin' reelin' caravan carnival ride.
Some brown-eyed woman sets her claws to haul your ashes
around and a humdrum storyteller adjust the poet's words.
Joining with a writer you never needed less -- row home with
your oars ablaze -- lost in an ocean of mindless characters.
Amidst feckless admirers and unwholesome desires, glass
slivers are embedded within.
Compulsion, suspicion, anxiety, predilection and lunacy
prevail -- as if one could love them into submission.
But is was only me there by the roadside, sweetheart, you couldn't face. Inspiration demanded our life's blood but did not confirm understanding. Who would have believed flights of imagination could morally undermine the artist and devastate the muse?
What gratified you -- brilliance and praise work and your
cerebral games, satisfied me not -- desire was the hobby horse that brought me
to my knees.
Down South -- widowed, sweet gardenia ladies glide from
dainty luncheons to lovingly tended grave sites and at the driving range people
congregate for their share, overlooking gravestones that yesterday were not
there.
Whiplash currents tremble unseen -- unheard of stale
leavings of hardscrabble days. Exposed,
transitory, ephemeral -- delicate structures indwelling in provisional complexity
are folded against my raging past.
Time in luxurious swathes of pointless elective activity are
consumed, burdened by concepts of senselessness.
Seeking freedom from turgid recriminations and hostile
antagonisms that accost a sheltered tenderness, the mind arrogantly dominates
this inundated scrap of flesh -- but only by the power of that which decrees
our destiny do we live our lives.
Fragments of heart-sore aspirations are assigned
indiscriminately and are askew.
Quandary and obtuse parameters; the game once played, is
forfeited. A simple need for welcoming
arms perished and hope is consecrated instead to the unseen silent purveyors of
fate.
This penance of exile, redolent of undesirability, coupled
with weakness and pain portents unavoidable decline and inescapable defeat.
Floundering, capitulating, taking the steel rod for my back
and dreaming still, grace be willing, I'll soon be taken out of the equation.
Dreadful and dreary -- the time has come to put the night asleep with day and burrow deep amid wreck and ruin.
Tooth and claw -- a world unfolding, eroding, devouring-- renewing. Universal elements -- brilliant, cold and indifferent. Solicitous gentleness remarkably survives amid brutality and rife injustice.
The earth reclaims all. Our bodies will disintegrate and the oceans
will consume our honors and our sins, ennobling the vast reaches of our souls.
Ocean brine and lisping wavelets soothe and creatures of
silken loveliness and sprightly playfulness delight. A fragile, tiny wren this day did please with
thoughtless twittering and jubilant display -- a sweet refrain to share, to
grant a lightening of the mind and ameliorate my agitated heart.
Queen
of Swords
(Note: My response to "Idiot Winds" & "Sugar Baby")
(Note: My response to "Idiot Winds" & "Sugar Baby")
***
Beloved Conspirator
***
Date
Unknown
Portal to an Undisclosed World
In the wake of his triumphs, memorable and sustaining
endeavors and the enduring power to create interest and beauty, more than one
besotted hopeful being became enmeshed in his galvanizing orbit -- struggling,
flailing to keep a pace with the monumental magnitude of the presence he
imprinted on our times.
Enriched, yes.
Inspired, no doubt.
First and foremost his eloquent lyrics are exemplary, for
the most part, and the melodies he composed personify, without reservation, all
that is glorious. Second to none his comprehension and expertise gratifies.
The sum total of his work is considered the perfection
and epitome of accomplishment. Thus a
notable life and a meaningful legacy.
***
Within a
corridor of years, resides a chalice of reciprocity, a well kept secret in
plain sight, harboring his guarded heart and revealing the complexities of his mind
vis-à-vis another --
each struggling for compassion and courage to conquer suspicion and
dereliction.
Acknowledged, admired, encouraged and rewarded...outside
the norm, outside the parameters of what one would have a right to expect --
inside the doors of their ephemeral joint domicile all that ever is, all that there ever was, is in play.
On the line recently was the last invitation for eye
to eye accord, a single act of faith that could have been the miracle of
another chance.
Fate, however, would have it that never again would
they attempt to disentangle the knot that could destroy their carefully crafted
and nurtured dreams. Rather the death of loss than to lay bare the flawed
underbelly of what heaven had not wrought.
***
Always in evidence, were emotions and qualities --
romantic, tender, adventurous, demonstrative, trusting, intrepid and a necessary
determined, if tenuous contact. Concurrent with affection and appreciation, disappointment
and regret were the prerequisite foil.
These artistic, cerebral avenues and explorations were
neither self-sustaining nor indistinguishable, for like upon like would not have yielded promise.
Alas, as demanding affiliations must surrender to the
immeasurably deplorable maw of requirement, passion and fierce attachment,
seasoned with idealism, occasionally results in disillusionment and can sabotage
creativity -- and success, generally regarded as positive, may cause a fall-out
which, more often than not, is just short of tragic.
***
Brought high, brought low, tell it unto me once more,
beloved, in terms we allowed ourselves
to know, catapulting us -- fleeing from an ancient presentiment about acts of oblivion
and acts of remembrance.
Queen
of Swords
2012
in passing
on the path, in the park
in Shakespeare's alley
secluded and discreet
heaven promised us to meet
in passing, chance was lost
moonbeam-fed a night owl rests
gratitude insists, joy persists
tattered & mellowed in our hulls
plans awry, hope relinquished
in passing, our spirits mingled
immeasurably vast all life
for which humanity is irrelevant
the Creator recognized in ruins
of our vain strategy for being
in passing , deliverance fled
the nest builders ever resolute
scavengers forever hopeful
harvesters replete with success--
shame me with wise probity
in passing, we court blessings
polished grace, master of your craft
your assertions sweet and bold
cause of bliss, witness to travesty
strange brew for strangers at the gate
in passing, we broke the golden rule
gill-flirts & inane manikins
viper-like they stole my man
we traced each others footsteps
stories do tell & teardrops did fall
we dared, no one knew or cared
in passing, none were spared.
Queen of Swords
***
Date
Unknown
Black on Black
incised by neurotic, barren electronica
immersed in inanimate, fleshless bodies
succumbing to demoralizing inertia
holding fast to an indelible memory
inundated by what passes for wisdom
what thoughts of liabilities & restraint?
the might of your embrace overwhelmed
& the freedom you granted, set me adrift
desire to yield assaults my insular existence
and the High Priestess confessed naught
used, abused, lauded & discarded
it has been noted -- so the guide attests
kept at arms length -- unendurably tragic
possessed by a poet -- irredeemably arousing
deprivation's troubled wreck & ruin
shore me up friend & reinstate trust
bolster the human deal for confidence
and welcome a negligent scorekeeper
taken for granted and touch denied
no ships of salvage have passed this night
talons of want fracture my being
shrewdly luring me with
impossibilities
wasn't it you only who understood?
it pains the heart and mocks my abilities
"long ago" surfaces upon nightfall's tide
ghosts that once clamored now skirmish & brawl
may the spirits embellish us -- to rise & triumph
Queen
of Swords
______________________________________
The artistic quarter of a large European city was my birthplace
and where I spent my early childhood.
However, the family has access to a 300 year old mountain cabin,
situated in a valley, by a road that led through the Alps -- Austria , Germany ,
Italy (the Brenner
Pass ).
The cabin was first discovered by my mother and friends around
1938 (several years before my birth) and enjoyed as a campsite until my
grandmother got wind of it. She obtained
a lifelong lease from a Count, a steward of the surrounding countryside (where
no hunting was permitted). How and why
this transpired remained a mystery, but once in charge, she remodeled it to
three times the size, the front "door" was remodeled to a window, a
large veranda was built (to sit outside
for eating, playing the zither and gazing at the stars), the inside was
entirely wood paneled, tile stoves were
installed and, of course, there were no longer rocks on the roof. The winters were so severe, it would take
virtually half a day to dig through out 6 ft. snow to attain access.
My finest memories are of
tramping through the woods, safe, barefoot, unsupervised and fancy free. I like
to believe my soul resides there. Do I
want to revisit, as did my mother when she was older than I even? No.
Besides the cabin, my second cousins wrote, exists no more, which
was verified when I visited with Google Earth to obtain photos of places I
roamed (nature virtually unchanged in some over 60 years--photos at the time
are of all black & white.)
"The Brenner pass is one of
the oldest moat and historic highways in the world. It is the great gateway
through - the Eastern Alps, connecting Central Europe with Italy
For over two thousand years the tide of conquest and
commerce has surged through here. Through the Brenner the Cimbri came, in the
great onslaught on the Roman republic, and it was the Brenner that re-echoed to
the tramp of Attila and his Huns when they poured down upon the Roman empire .
Throughout the middle ages the Brenner saw innumerable armies
passing to the conquest of the South; and it saw many of them return with their
banners drooping and torn.
A little over a hundred years ago the soldiers of Napoleon came up
from Italy through the Brenner Pass ; but the Tyrolese met them at Sterzing and
the pass was drenched in blood.
The first uses of the Brenner are lost in the twilight of
history. It is certain that it was a highway for the Romans as early as
300 B. C, but it did not come into great prominence in Roman history until
the end of the second century before Christ.
The story of the part it played in the great fight between the
Cimbri and the Romans. From their dark German forests the Cimbri came down upon
Italy through the Brenner Pass. Rome
The mountains seemed to pour them forth in interminable streams,
and the legions of the republic broke before them. On to the conquest of Venice the northern hordes swept; but they were met by
Roman re-enforcements on the upper bank of the Po
and driven back to their mountain fortresses. That was in B. C. 101.
The empire knew that those hordes were every day gathering
stronger in the Alps , and it lived in daily
fear of them for over a generation. Then Augustus decided to force the invaders
back into the Danube valley and establish the military barriers of Rome as far as the heights of the Eastern
Alps . Augustus planned the campaign and it was carried out by his
sons. Tiberius and Drusus.
The soldiers of the Empire won the day in commemoration of the
victory -- the 'Pons Drusus was built across the Adige
at the mouth of the Brenner gorge. The
town of 80 stands on the spot today. (Glasshutte?) Once conquered, the
mountain tribes settled down and became good citizens of Rome
The Emperor Claudius, son of Drusus, built the Via Claudia through
the pass, and in the main the modern
Brenner road follows the line of the old Roman highway.
From the moment it was opened the Brenner became the favorite
commercial highway between Italy
and Central Europe . Through it the wines and
fruits of the south were carried to Germany ,
while the hides and cheese and butter and wood of the Danublan plain were
welcomed on the other side of the Alps . But
salt was the main article of trade brought south It came from the great mines
at Hall, which are still in operation,
and are said to contain sufficient saline rock to keep up the normal output for
another thousand years. As the traveler leaves the saddle of the pass and
trudges on southwards he whole character of the surroundings begins to change,
coming into Latin territory and moving among Latin folk.
Perched on the shoulder of the mountain, commanding the road and
the river valley, it offered an excellent site for the hailiste and catapults
of the Romans, the trebuchets and mangonels of the middle ages, and the
muzzle-loading cannon of Napoleon."
Of course this was later followed by World War I (a period in
which doesn't speak to me and World War II (even less so, for obvious reasons.)
From what I heard, the cabin was vandalized by soldiers but
amazingly was not burned down. A painting
of my mother was taken by Russian troops - apparently the blonde, blue-eyed
Nordic look appealed to someone.
Incidentally in 1941 she gave birth (not in that location) to a boy (my brother Florian) with curly
blond hair and blue eyes who, alas, lived
only for a few days. I have, from time to time, entertained the idea that souls
migrate and perhaps his lived on in another child born at the same time a world away.
It stands to reason that history records wars and invasions and
either has no knowledge or interest in the many lives affected, settlements
created, etc., which would be fascinating to know.
Note for my own edification: The western German tribes consisted of
the Marcomanni, Alamanni, Franks,
Angles, and Saxons, while the Eastern tribes north of the Danube
consisted of the Vandals, Gepids, Ostrogoths,
and Visigoths. The Alans,
Burgundians, and Lombards are less easy to define. So much for the much lauded and flaunted
"Anglo-Saxons!" A regular
mish-mash that's what.
Obviously, areas rife with spirits do not only pertain to those
who were involved or perished in battles.
From my experience they do, however, prefer isolated or sparsely populated rural/rustic areas. There was some activity at the outskirts of
town here, but none here (why would they want to hang about the industrial clamor
and waste of a mill and the constant noise and saber rattling demonstrations of
a nearby military installation.
Thank God for our warriors, however, for surely the America
***
I have a friend who had a grand passion with a
poet/singer/songwriter for a period of over 40 years. Rumor has it that he was of so-called
"white Russian" descent, which apparently pertains to people from Belarusia -- http://en.people.cn/102774/7906228.html.
It amuses me to think that their character is described
as "The Belarusian character is
distinguished by patience (!) and hard work. The people of Belarus
Various feasts some of which are of pagan origin take a very important
part in the pastime of the Belarusians who appreciate their holidays and
celebrate them with a lot of fun, accompanying with interesting rites.
So although the aforementioned
poet/singer/songwriter was/is considered a veritable "Zeitgeist" of a
relatively new but powerful empire in a particular period. Although unquestionably the most prolific
songwriter of his day in his later years he chose, for reasons known only to
himself, to render his own interpretation of the so-called Great American
Songbook. (I was personally shocked to
view on YouTube, even just a few of the many singers who chose to perform
"That Old Black Magic." for example.) Was it to express what he felt
his songs could not, to celebrate some memorable songs, to prove a point or a
bit of self-indulgence, influenced by whoever he's close to...OR just 'cause
he's after such an enormous output just run out of ideas. Could be all of those
reasons. But just another singer?! (Or, as critics would have it about his
inamorata -- just another fan!)
Considering heritage and origin,
it well may be, he might have to dig deeper, going back centuries to find
perhaps connections, albeit the patriotism expressed for the United States of
America are as well founded as any...and more.
Certainly a rich tradition of music has evolved from Africa
and many varied cultural backgrounds that have populated this most unique of
all nations.
Just sayin'... Would the young
rebel poet sneer at his older self's choices as "elevator
music?" One can't forget the effort
and, the sentiment involved. Nothing
derogatory meant by that. Just sayin'. He
is and was considered the most cool and hippest of all (to this day cited in
countless books and films anywhere and everywhere someone wanted to add the
flavor, the impression of having been in the know.) As always, easy to
criticize what one cannot do oneself.
Who could fault Sinatra, Bennett,
Crosby, Como
Frank Sinatra, 1947. Crooner
is an American epithet given to male singers of jazz standards, mostly from the
Great American Songbook, backed by either a full orchestra, a big band or a
piano. Originally it was an ironic term denoting a sentimental singing style made
possible by the use of microphones.
Just singers, after all, but that ain't Bob Dylan. That his admirers and fans should prefer
any of his songs to any cover is actually a great compliment as the composers
of these mostly love songs had a lot going for them. "Dylan's" hundreds of songs are not enough to for him to
choose from apparently.
"Dear Landlord," would be relatively easy to
lay down I bet, or "Gotta Serve Somebody," or "Everything's Broken." Stories in the folk tradition, songs people
can relate to, including love songs: Born in Time, All Along the Watchtower, Dignity, The Ballad
of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest, The Wicked Messenger, Boots of Spanish
Leather, Where Teardrops Fall, Mississippi, When the Deal Goes Down, With God
on Our Side, Maybe Someday, Blowin' in the Wind, Don't Think Twice, Forgetful
Heart, It's Alright, 'Til I Fell in Love With You, This Wheel's on Fire, Shooting
Star, Blind Willie McTell, Percy's Song, Shot of Love, Rollin' and Tumblin', Make You Feel My Love,
Simple Twist of Fate, Slow Train, the list is seemingly endless and his
admirers would breathe a sigh of relief.
Lots of romantic songs about love and subsequent
disillusionment or disappointment --some things even love can't fix.
My friend, told me she had some regrets (who hasn't?) but
has made peace with the past (as if one really had a choice.) Some things look
different now, some need not have generated guilt, others she has no idea why
she acted as she did. As far as her
beloved paramour is concerned, looking back, the only
request/invitation/suggestion he actually responded in person was "Meet Me
in the Morning" and that was some time ago, to put it mildly. She wonders, from time to time, what might
have happened had she not boarded that bus that morning (or if she hadn't responded so fervently to John Wesley Harding back then in Woodstock in the first place.) But duty to work and support herself and her
son took precedence, as was the case of not hanging out downstairs at the The Bitter End at all hours of the night
in the hope of running into him
Not to be considered either was to walk around the corner
and knock on his door (it wasn't clear if he was still married and she wasn't
eager to be one of those who pursued him in an unseemly stalker manner.) She
saw him again after 'Blood on the Tracks" came out and he, being chauffeured
in a car and looking very fine indeed, he nodded at her. However, he did not stop the car, nor did he
return. It was the last time she ever saw
him. (not to say, he didn't see her.) So the "Long and Wasted Years" transpired and it would appear that it was she who
paid in blood recently, literally no less, but there is not, like possibly for
another, the troubling burden of remorse.
There were marriages and affairs for both but the timing
was off, although I can only speak for certain for her. There were seven years in Brooklyn Heights
in the70s that she was single, six years in California
She lived her life in hope (even dreaming that somebody
would 'rescue' her one fine day from the omnipresent polluting mill.) When hope died last year, sometime when again
she waiting for him in vain "down along the Cove," her goals, ambition, dreams and inspiration
were, if not dispatched, diminished.
Resignation, that which she was so much in the habit of making fun of --resignation, boon of the aged-- sneakily
appeared when in the past, she was fond of crowing that she would only lend
acceptance her support, but not succumb to the defeat the other implied. There comes a time when miracles have even
less of a chance of happening and stamina and looks don't give you a boost and
having given it her best...where was/is she to go from there?
"I'm
searching for phrases
To sing your praises" from "Soon After Midnight"
To sing your praises" from "Soon After Midnight"
"Spirit
on the Water" currently featured is one of has some of the most
complimentary and seductive lyrics and a superlative melody.
"I'm
sick of love, I wish I'd never met you
I'm sick of love, I'm tryin' to forget you.
Just don't know what to do
I'd give anything to
Be with you." from "Love Sick,"
I'm sick of love, I'm tryin' to forget you.
Just don't know what to do
I'd give anything to
Be with you." from "Love Sick,"
Would
that include, I can't help but wonder, a
simple phone call where people give speaking another spin?
She said there were points in their lives when she
thought surely now things will now change.
There was parental disapproval on both sides and when his mother died and then hers (who called him a bad man) were further signposts.
"You been down to the bottom with a bad man, babe,
But you're back where you belong.
Go get me my pistol, babe,
Honey, I can't tell right from wrong."
from "Baby Please Stop Crying"
When he divorced, but this was followed byHollywood
rendering its siren call and although in L.A.
There was parental disapproval on both sides and when his mother died and then hers (who called him a bad man) were further signposts.
"You been down to the bottom with a bad man, babe,
But you're back where you belong.
Go get me my pistol, babe,
Honey, I can't tell right from wrong."
from "Baby Please Stop Crying"
When he divorced, but this was followed by
Turned out that magnificent state was to be her
undoing. Once again broke, the
"South" came calling. She
remarried (Time Out of Mind) and divorced (Love and Theft), but ultimately it
made no difference.
And what ultimately happened to her and her lover? Like a
veritable fairy tale, turns out they actually never did meet. She was
too poor (to pursue him) and he too shy.
Yet...
"Oh,
sister, when I come to knock on your door
Don't turn away, you'll create sorrow
Time is an ocean but it ends at the shore
You may not see me tomorrow
Don't turn away, you'll create sorrow
Time is an ocean but it ends at the shore
You may not see me tomorrow
***
"Oh, sister, when I come to lie in your arms
You should not treat me like a stranger"
You should not treat me like a stranger"
from "Oh Sister” by Bob Dylan
________________________________________________________
April 23, 2017
D.M. Well, that sister of yours has certainly always has been forthcoming and outspoken, which occasionally occasioned quite a trouncing, but then, as far as I know, she never lied to you. True, she could have handled that announcement of her second marriage (which she had, by the way, every right to enter into) better, but you must understand how desperately she tried to get away from a relationship that never could get resolved. She did, however, not hide it, like some. Had she known about those secret marriages of yours, she might have handled things differently. Then again, perhaps not. It's all ancient history now anyway. Even "Autumn Leaves" in their particular story, dates back some what 20 years?!
There is something to be said, however, to not parsing one's words all too carefully and thereby kiss spontaneity farewell. It also has given her the unusual and special privilege of being heard and to some extent trusted. "To some extent," really can all that can be expected I suppose from a "rank stranger." This lends itself to argument, as people do get to know each other in many ways through "correspondence," and more incisive -- "responses" and some deliciously quickly. How would take some doing to explain to an outsider how it all worked.
I dare say, she also has a fairly intimate familiarity and comprehension of your work for quite some time. More meaningful than your most ardent Dylanologist might offer up. It's not negligible after all and besides as you say "you can't unring the bell." Lord knows, it was attempted in all manner of means and ways. Sick of it? I wouldn't put it quite that way. More a matter of survival.
I dare say, she also has a fairly intimate familiarity and comprehension of your work for quite some time. More meaningful than your most ardent Dylanologist might offer up. It's not negligible after all and besides as you say "you can't unring the bell." Lord knows, it was attempted in all manner of means and ways. Sick of it? I wouldn't put it quite that way. More a matter of survival.
How horribly terrible it would be if. when the deal went down, things did not go as expected or envisioned! Too terrible to contemplate apparently. Better to keep on suffering and longing. Certainly some fantastic songs evolved and it's a fact that sorrow often lends more substance to artistic pursuits than happy-go-lucky. Unlucky sister dear, I suppose, but then who can argue with fate, if that's your cup of tea. It does blow her mind occasionally to think of how many people she met and interacted with and places she'd been and yet her fondest dreams were not realized.
Strangely the subconscious has its own scenario and agenda. That recent, dare I say, sensual dream, sister dear described, did not exactly depict you as exactly shy. In fact you made the first move (probably a necessary element.) In fact, she was initially attracted to the dynamic, assertive, bold persona of JWH. Naturally, good actors can have you believe just about anything. Then again, "the man in me" and all that.
https://vimeo.com/155467968 "The Man in Me," Bob Dylan
It doesn't really matter all that much. You and her both had plenty of opportunities to explore the body's desires with what often inappropriately and ironically attracts, when one's mindset is in another place entirely.
Shy or not, I believe she'd take you in...no matter, providing his feelings are as sincere as he has led her to believe. Lost decades or not...what does it matter if one still has the chance to do the one necessary thing before one goes to that other dimension? Any thought, d.m. about putting your affairs in order?
When you're a solitary figure, it seems that everybody else has a "person of interest" who they share their lives with, accompanied by the often complicated negotiations, emotional ups and downs and arrangements that entails. It "seems" when rational thinking will attest to the fact that there are millions of lonely (and "seasoned") people out there who dwell on the fact that how could a destiny such as that befall them when they are, in fact, so special?
Also under consideration is that lifelong sweethearts have to come to a point of parting...all the more poignant for all that. It's all temporary anyway, in this world of heaven and hell, something hardly ever addressed in one's younger years. I bet it's engineered to perpetuate the species, after all is said and done. How many would stick around, feeling the reaper hovering?
Also under consideration is that lifelong sweethearts have to come to a point of parting...all the more poignant for all that. It's all temporary anyway, in this world of heaven and hell, something hardly ever addressed in one's younger years. I bet it's engineered to perpetuate the species, after all is said and done. How many would stick around, feeling the reaper hovering?
Had she ever thought of trying to re-engage the tried and true methods of yesteryear. Yes, but then "return to sender" is not a pleasant sensation, or possibly laying it out to uncaring ears. Besides that, it got stale on her end. Not everybody can reinvent themselves as many times as you did, after all.
Me? I've been better but then who has not?
"Stake my future on a hell of a past
Looks like tomorrow is coming on fast
Ain't complaining 'bout what I got
Seen better times, but who has not?
Looks like tomorrow is coming on fast
Ain't complaining 'bout what I got
Seen better times, but who has not?
from "Silvio" (another song that the light of day for quite some time, but lately has been put on the back burner. It's understandable that one can weary of performing the same songs over and over, or that some just do not fit the mood or time and place.)
"Silvio" - Keep on rockin'
"You give something up for everything you gain
Since every pleasure's got an edge of pain
Pay for your ticket and don't complain" (ye be a hard taskmaster dear heart)
Since every pleasure's got an edge of pain
Pay for your ticket and don't complain" (ye be a hard taskmaster dear heart)
So what's going on in my show? Nada. Since leaving the workplace, there was a period of intense reading, followed by doing artwork and then writing. Now, all I can do is hold body and soul together and take care of what I have to and try to maintain some independence for whatever time is allotted to me.
I'd like to say that the rediscovery of beauty, a kind of epiphany, after my stint in the house of healing and death, but it shimmers only occasionally, overwhelmed by the burden of years (never mind that all of three people were amazed at my age and it was also remarked how soft my skin is --something you'd not know. I told them that may be so, but I feel every one of those years. Little could they know that along with the fun, there's been some hard travelin', even in the fast lane, yes.
April 1, 2017 (Blog edited 4/2/17)
The April 1st set list leaves nothing to say. It says it all. I am "touched."
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Don’t Think Twice, It’s All
Right
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Highway 61 Revisited
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Beyond Here Lies Nothin'
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Full Moon And Empty Arms
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High Water (For Charley
Patton)
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Melancholy Mood
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Duquesne Whistle
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Love Sick
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Tangled Up In Blue
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Pay In Blood
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Standing In The Doorway
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Scarlet Town
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I Could Have Told You
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Desolation Row
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Soon After Midnight
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All Or Nothing At All
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Long And Wasted Years
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Autumn Leaves
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(encore)
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Blowin' In The Wind
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Why Try To Change Me Now
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"Pointed threats, they bluff with
scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool's gold mouthpiece
The hollow horn plays wasted words
Proves to warn that he's not busy being born
Is busy dying."
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool's gold mouthpiece
The hollow horn plays wasted words
Proves to warn that he's not busy being born
Is busy dying."
from
"It's Alright, Ma" by Bob Dylan
'Sundown, yellow moon
I replay the past
I know every scene by heart
They all went by so fast
If she's passin' back this way
I'm not that hard to find
Tell her she can look me up
If she's got the time'
I replay the past
I know every scene by heart
They all went by so fast
If she's passin' back this way
I'm not that hard to find
Tell her she can look me up
If she's got the time'
from "If You See Her, Say Hello" by Bob Dylan
Ditto. I'll be here when you get back...the fates be willing.
Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts - Bob Dylan
"I
lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs
There was music in the cafes at night
And revolution in the air"
In a basement down the stairs
There was music in the cafes at night
And revolution in the air"
Brooklyn Heights
-70s
"We'll
meet again some day
On the avenue
Tangled up in blue" Bob Dylan
Actually finished "Set Me Aside" (implying quite the opposite) but upon reading it, I'm not liking it. So, like the lovely "Ramona" into and from the archives:
On the avenue
Tangled up in blue" Bob Dylan
Actually finished "Set Me Aside" (implying quite the opposite) but upon reading it, I'm not liking it. So, like the lovely "Ramona" into and from the archives:
BEFORE THE FACT
Usurped by fatalities never imagined, the death of hope
entwined with facing down one's own anger at being duped by the insubstantial
belief in super inundated fairy tales, this recognition saturated is yet with
unsurpassed reliance on miracles.
But the dignity of stoicism and the resolute adherence
substantiated by a reliable past makes feasible the belief that you will reckon
to rein in victory over trepidation and alarming result dependent, paralyzing
disparaging self-regard and paradoxically deeply entrenched pride, to forgive
encrypted and unhinged judgments and attributes and comprehend instead that the
ingress of forgiveness and satiety, the granting of a boon to a worshipful
friend and admirer supersedes self and that in heaven's terms, this trumps a
world of accolades.
Achievement kept you upright but love kept you accessible
and being cognizant that suspicions and doubt be also bound up in our intimate
regard and assumptions -- all the more
the reason to further our joined experience.
What not greatness of melody, beauty and worded expression
and exploration of devotion and admiration would accomplish so might what was
kept in reserve -- reason. To be thrust
into pursuing the matrix of this companionship and find there purchase and the
balm of resolution -- not the explosive drive and superlative but treacherous
expectation of storybook perfection, but in the pressing need of needful things
attended to before passing on to parts unknown.
There then to find trenchant promise and consistent leverage
of probity and regard that features a modicum of respect and a measure of
tenderness, so long expressed, no longer in need now of yet again being lured,
tested and exposed.
Let me not expound and recommend, plead and bemoan, suggest and
point out former attributes that mutually beguiled and entranced.
But rather seeing that only you are empowered with the way
and means, let me share with you the responsibility of my asking and you the
doing, readily as key will fit lock.
Queen of Swords (date unknown)
"Desperado"
- I was serenaded with this song once by a traveling band whose name I've long
forgotten. It seemed apt at the time
3/30/2017
Re: Bob Dylan - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pSQ1akE2CcM
"Dear Mr. Fantasy" - Traffic
So like a whirligig mon cher I see you're just keep on
keeping on. You certainly defied the
odds, as probably have I, considering.
...ah but I "touched" you!
Me? Alive and kicking...barely.
Nobody's business but my own...ourselves and that of my friends.
Besides that, some learning tutorial for each finger of the
hand one can hold up to a toddler to remind:
Attitude, Listen, Manners, Keep Promises and Gratitude.
"They
say times are hard, if you don't believe it
You can just follow your nose
It don't bother me, times are hard everywhere
Well, we'll just have to see how it goes "
from "Floater" by Bob Dylan
You can just follow your nose
It don't bother me, times are hard everywhere
Well, we'll just have to see how it goes "
from "Floater" by Bob Dylan
2/26/2017
One review mentioned something to the effect that the new
triplicate material reflects regret and disappointment. Perhaps that's what I find
disconcerting. Certainly LOTS of sorrow
was involved and all that BUT wasn't it ALSO:
transformative,
revelatory, discreet, personal, inviting, understanding, private, romantic,
passionate, strange, inspirational consoling, insightful, supportive,
interesting, unique, consensual, unconventional, exciting, memorable,
heartfelt, truthful, pleasing, positive, remarkable, unlikely, redemptive,
sincere, liberating...to name some, and that's what resides within me after all
is said and done.
Recently came across a quote, which relates somewhat to what
it must be like to be a rock and roll star (and as much as they complain and often even perish, most people aspire to
"the life." The conflict
expressed below is certainly apt.
John Casablancas
(Elite Models) Now deceased, formerly very successful and someone who was
exposed to the most gorgeous women in the world but whose business demanded he
travel a great deal. Someone asked him
if he had any regrets:
" The
companionship of a stable relationship gives you is fantastic, on the other
hand the excitement and freedom of not having a commitment is also something
which is interesting. So you put things
on balance and I think the people who have one keep missing the other and
certainly my older age I will definitely is the companionship. I'm sure there will be lots of times later on
where I will be sorry that I wasn't a little more careful in keeping the
relationship. I was becoming a
caricature of myself and I was resigned of a future of inconsequential affairs.
The following ended my novel IMPETUS, written in my
30s. Methinks, although no way to be
objective, my "work" has improved.
Who is to say?
Out of the Blue
Feelings recognize the
persuasive fortifying inner source
that generates a
framework which allows the soul to read true every nuance.
"Complete"
is embracing the goodness that inherently
avails itself of
heaven's bounty.
Tread gently
therefore upon this seasoned ground
that grants such
scope and sovereignty.
***
To be concerned, to
be incorporated within instances of memory
and slip between fact
and fiction,
questions the
observer as to who is the imposter.
It is choice, duty
and the dictates of nature that persecute s no one,
redeems only a few
and gives rise to the battered premise
that all living
things have no option -- save humanity its free will...
ever taunted by the
responsibility of uncertain outcomes
and infinite
variations on a theme.
***
Even so, amidst knowing
and plentitude -- silent, conditional implications
determine much of
what passes for learned assumptions
Taken out of context,
freedom brings unwarranted fear of consequence
and ever more
compelling reasons
to frequent the
undiluted backwaters of the subconscious.
***
Seeing that often
nothing is attained by ruminating
and the pursuit of
incessant speculation,
the unwavering
thoroughfare of common sense
permits a calming, if
fleeting satisfaction
to a heretofore
restless questing mind.
Be that as it may, a
leaf flutters to the earth, unquestioning and deliberate,
joining each with the
other -- as if ordained.
Queen of Swords
2/11/17
Tangled Up In Blue by Bob Dylan
***
"I found true happiness That I've still got a dream that hasn't been repossessed
I'm rollin' slow, goin' where the wild roses grow"
from Bye and Bye (Love & Theft) by Bob Dylan
I'm rollin' slow, goin' where the wild roses grow"
from Bye and Bye (Love & Theft) by Bob Dylan
2/2/2017
Letters into the void....
"Baby Please Don't Go" - Lightnin' Hopkins
"Baby Please Don't Go" - Bob Dylan
***
Bright star, would I were
stedfast as thou art--
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--
No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever--or else swoon to death.
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--
No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever--or else swoon to death.
John
Keats
***
"I'm Your Man"
Leonard Cohen
***
"If Not For You" Bob Dylan
"Born in Time" - Bob Dylan
You've always been on my mind.
__________________________________
2/1/2017
R.I.P. LEST WE FORGET. William "Ryan" Owens. First casualty under new "administration."
Where the hell is Yemen even and what and why really? Take the young, smart, strong and the beautiful and sacrifice them to the gods of war. Is there no alternative to our brutal primitive world?
Masters of War by Bob Dylan
_________________________________
Almost lost to the sands of time: Olga Ivinskaya, Boris Pasternak's inspiration.
(author of Doctor Zhivago) Of him his son said: "an awareness of the sinfulness and obvious doomed nature of their relations imported a particular glow to them at that time. Pangs of conscience on the one hand, and lighthearted egoism on the other, often faced them with the need to part, but pity and a thirst for emotional warmth drew him toward her again." The secret police hatched a plan that would strike right at the heart of the "cloud-dweller" --they would send his mistress and muse to a prison camp and torture her instead.
How rarely does the "other woman" fare well and what prisons result with having to face years of the isolation of alienation and subsequent solitary life.
1/24/17
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iPQMk7-O4-c
"Long and Wasted Years" Bob Dylan
"Soon After Midnight" - Bob Dylan (Brooklyn-one of my old stomping grounds
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCt9Tfv-Ft4
1/18/17
"Spirit on the Water"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f4RdfQ9nLxI
Spirit on the water
Darkness on the face of the deep
I keep thinking about you baby
I can't hardly sleep
I'm traveling by land
Traveling through the dawn of day
You're always on my mind
I can't stay away
I'd forgotten about you
Then you turned up again
I always knew
That we were meant to be more than friends
When you are near
It's just as plain as it can be
I'm wild about you, gal
You ought to be a fool about me
Can't explain
The sources of this hidden pain
You burned your way into my heart
You got the key to my brain
I've been trampling through mud
Praying to the powers above
I'm sweating blood
You got a face that begs for love
Life without you
Doesn't mean a thing to me
If I can't have you,
I'll throw my love into the deep blue sea
Sometimes I wonder
Why you can't treat me right
You do good all day
Then you do wrong all night
When you're with me
I'm a thousand times happier than I could ever say
What does it matter
What price I pay
They brag about your sugar
Brag about it all over town
Put some sugar in my bowl
I feel like laying down
I'm pale as a ghost
Holding a blossom on a stem
You ever seen a ghost? No
But you have heard of them
I see you there
I'm blinded by the colors I see
I take good care
Of what belongs to me
I hear your name
Ringing up and down the line
I'm saying it plain
These ties are strong enough to bind
Your sweet voice
Calls out from some old familiar shrine
I got no choice
Can't believe these things would ever fade from your mind
I could live forever
With you perfectly
You don't ever
Have to make a fuss over me
From East to West
Ever since the world began
I only mean it for the best
I want to be with you any way I can
I been in a brawl
Now I'm feeling the wall
I'm going away baby
I won't be back ‘til fall
High on the hill
You can carry all my thoughts with you
You've numbed my will
This love could tear me in two
I wanna be with you in paradise
And it seems so unfair
I can't go to paradise no more
I killed a man back there
You think I'm over the hill
You think I'm past my prime
Let me see what you got
We can have a whoppin' good time
Darkness on the face of the deep
I keep thinking about you baby
I can't hardly sleep
I'm traveling by land
Traveling through the dawn of day
You're always on my mind
I can't stay away
I'd forgotten about you
Then you turned up again
I always knew
That we were meant to be more than friends
When you are near
It's just as plain as it can be
I'm wild about you, gal
You ought to be a fool about me
Can't explain
The sources of this hidden pain
You burned your way into my heart
You got the key to my brain
I've been trampling through mud
Praying to the powers above
I'm sweating blood
You got a face that begs for love
Life without you
Doesn't mean a thing to me
If I can't have you,
I'll throw my love into the deep blue sea
Sometimes I wonder
Why you can't treat me right
You do good all day
Then you do wrong all night
When you're with me
I'm a thousand times happier than I could ever say
What does it matter
What price I pay
They brag about your sugar
Brag about it all over town
Put some sugar in my bowl
I feel like laying down
I'm pale as a ghost
Holding a blossom on a stem
You ever seen a ghost? No
But you have heard of them
I see you there
I'm blinded by the colors I see
I take good care
Of what belongs to me
I hear your name
Ringing up and down the line
I'm saying it plain
These ties are strong enough to bind
Your sweet voice
Calls out from some old familiar shrine
I got no choice
Can't believe these things would ever fade from your mind
I could live forever
With you perfectly
You don't ever
Have to make a fuss over me
From East to West
Ever since the world began
I only mean it for the best
I want to be with you any way I can
I been in a brawl
Now I'm feeling the wall
I'm going away baby
I won't be back ‘til fall
High on the hill
You can carry all my thoughts with you
You've numbed my will
This love could tear me in two
I wanna be with you in paradise
And it seems so unfair
I can't go to paradise no more
I killed a man back there
You think I'm over the hill
You think I'm past my prime
Let me see what you got
We can have a whoppin' good time
by Bob Dylan
Well, until further determined it appears that the white horse rider is just flirting with me. Perhaps a non too subtle reminder of things to come. I'll take some memories with me and if I make it through...I can go back to languishing about here and consider things past.
1/15/17
Dum Spiro Spero
"Oh Sister"
by Bob Dylan
Mon
très cher frère...
Yesterday I told "the"
story to only the fifth person in 49 years. Why?
Don't know. Maybe because it's
said it is important for mortals to have someone have been a
"witness" of sorts of our lives, maybe because I knew he would
believe it, perhaps something to do with tidying up loose ends in my mind
because it will surely go no further than that.
It was more detailed account than
henceforth where a mere by the way
sketchy mention took place, but nevertheless it took only about an hour to
relate. It once again emphasized
and made me realize how only you and I in the whole wide world could ever know,
understand or appreciate the extent, significance, relevance and nuance of much it...and who cares?
Well as you can imagine there
are things on my mind to do with:
"The hollow horn plays wasted
words
Proves to warn that he not busy being born
Is busy dying."
Proves to warn that he not busy being born
Is busy dying."
It is fortunate that particularly
last evening I had access to diversion and distraction of entertainment. What might have cheered a much as flights of imagination via "Alice,
Through the Looking Glass," with its endearing and out-of-this world
characters?
And wouldn't you know it, how
appropriate was the comment of "Time" about not having quite
"toked their last tick" and the "Tweedles" "We'll
split up together!"
As was the end, when Alice says to the
Hatter: "I fear I will not ever see
you again."
He replies: "My dear in the gardens of memory and the
palace of dreams that is where you and I will meet."
Alice: "But a dream is not
reality."
Hatter: "Who is to say which is which?"
Indeed, although reality as we know and define it is a WHOLE lot different from fantasy -- to this I can attest but cannot but wonder where we would be without either?
Mississippi by Bob Dylan
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ow88ZWfZfwc
Autumn Leaves - cover by Bob Dylan
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=88je24nQtoQ1/13/17
Señor"
by Bob Dylan
...and for some
reason churning, burning, turning in my mind:
"Is Your Love in
Vain" Bob Dylan
Only covers available
on the net of the following:
"Death Is Not The
End"
When
you're sad and when you're lonely
And you haven't got a friend
Just remember that death is not the end
And all that you held sacred
Falls down and dows not bend
Just remember that death is not the end.
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end.
When you're standing on the cross-roads
That you cannot comprehend
Just remember that death is not the end
And all your dreams have vanished
And you don't know what's up the bend
Just remember that death is not the end.
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end.
When the storm clouds gather round you
And heavy rains descend
Just remember that death is not the end
And there's nowhere there to comfort you
With helping hand to lend
Just remember that death is not the end.
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end.
Oh the tree of life is growing
Where the spirit never dies
And the bright light of salvation
Shines in dark and empty skies
When the cities are on fire
When the burning flesh of men
Just remember that death is not the end
And you search in vain to find
Just one law abiding citizen
Just remember that death is not the end.
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end.
And you haven't got a friend
Just remember that death is not the end
And all that you held sacred
Falls down and dows not bend
Just remember that death is not the end.
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end.
When you're standing on the cross-roads
That you cannot comprehend
Just remember that death is not the end
And all your dreams have vanished
And you don't know what's up the bend
Just remember that death is not the end.
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end.
When the storm clouds gather round you
And heavy rains descend
Just remember that death is not the end
And there's nowhere there to comfort you
With helping hand to lend
Just remember that death is not the end.
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end.
Oh the tree of life is growing
Where the spirit never dies
And the bright light of salvation
Shines in dark and empty skies
When the cities are on fire
When the burning flesh of men
Just remember that death is not the end
And you search in vain to find
Just one law abiding citizen
Just remember that death is not the end.
Not the end, not the end
Just remember that death is not the end.
by Bob Dylan
1/3/17 Mon Cher Frere (deleted 1/4/17)
New Year's Eve - December 2016
"Not Dark Yet" - Bob Dylan
"Pins and Needles" - The Searchers
"Hard to Handle" - The Black Crowes
At the Dark End of the Street" - Percy Sledge
"I Threw It All Away" - Bob Dylan
"The Cold" - ExitMusic
"Cold Irons Bound" - B. Dylan
"Wait 'til the Midnight Hour" - Wilson Picket
December 24, 2016
Tweedle Dee's & Tweedle Dum's Holiday
Kerfuffle (deleted 12/30/16 - this being the only blog of mine that still allows edits/deletions.)
Exit for a Film -
Radiohead with some dubious lyrics (don't wanna choke anybody, only perhaps
discourage the twitter-man's desire for nuclear proliferation)
Portal to an Undisclosed World
In the wake of his
triumphs, memorable and sustaining endeavors and the enduring power to create
interest and beauty, more than one besotted hopeful being became enmeshed in
his galvanizing orbit -- struggling, flailing to keep a pace with the
monumental magnitude of the presence he imprinted on our times.
Enriched, yes. Inspired, no doubt.
First and foremost
his eloquent lyrics are exemplary, for the most part, and the melodies he
composed personify, without reservation, all that is glorious. Second to none
his comprehension and expertise gratifies.
The sum total of his
work is considered the perfection and epitome of accomplishment. Thus a notable life and a meaningful legacy.
***
Within a corridor of years, resides a
chalice of reciprocity, a well kept secret in plain sight, harboring his
guarded heart and revealing the complexities of his mind vis-à-vis another -- each struggling for compassion
and courage to conquer suspicion and dereliction.
Acknowledged,
admired, encouraged and rewarded...outside the norm, outside the parameters of
what one would have a right to expect -- inside the doors of their ephemeral
joint domicile all that ever is, all that
there ever was, is in play.
On the line recently
was the last invitation for eye to eye accord, a single act of faith that could
have been the miracle of another chance.
Fate, however, would
have it that never again would they attempt to disentangle the knot that could
destroy their carefully crafted and nurtured dreams. Rather the death of loss
than to lay bare the flawed underbelly of what heaven had not wrought.
***
Always in evidence,
were emotions and qualities -- romantic, tender, adventurous, demonstrative,
trusting, intrepid and a necessary determined, if tenuous contact. Concurrent
with affection and appreciation, disappointment and regret were the
prerequisite foil.
These artistic,
cerebral avenues and explorations were neither self-sustaining nor
indistinguishable, for like upon like
would not have yielded promise.
Alas, as demanding
affiliations must surrender to the immeasurably deplorable maw of requirement,
passion and fierce attachment, seasoned with idealism, occasionally results in
disillusionment and can sabotage creativity -- and success, generally regarded
as positive, may cause a fall-out which, more often than not, is just short of
tragic.
***
Brought high, brought
low, tell it unto me once more, beloved,
in terms we allowed ourselves to know, catapulting us -- fleeing from an
ancient presentiment about acts of oblivion and acts of remembrance.
Queen
of Swords
"If I Had a
Heart" Fever Ray (they can keep the
rest of their spooky music though :-) I
do still listen to Spanish music, but couldn't figure out how to post my own
compilation.
_________________________________
October 2016
In Keeping with Inevitability
nature exhibits emancipated overtures
even as Mercury retrograde creates havoc
in fleeting reels of instinctive exuberance
earth's microcosm swirls & twirls
given an erupting, enraged universe,
what of earthly hackneyed rack & ruin?
as populations feud & foster warfare
byzantine laws are deemed better than none
holy rollers continue to ignite crusades
chicken hawks prey & proliferate
fellow creatures are consumed or enslaved
mute their rights, defenseless their lives
innately we nurture precious offspring
love -- humanity's only redemptive quality
within the garrison of infinity we exist
unbelieving of evolution's standstill
unasked, cast into life's highways & byways
until mews & meadows of youth desert us
all the same, nothing is lost, nothing discarded
all is recycled, all that passes resurrected
***
in the fullness of time, a Lore Keeper was sought
remote -- high & dry on his mountain citadel
celebrated & resplendent with accomplishment
stern his countenance, joyless & grave
before long raggle-taggle flower children appeared,
imparting freethinking & sharing their ways
among them a woman, thought to be wayward
ingenuous more like -- in quest of a better life
in kinship with time, place & rhythm
driven by idealism, festooned with spirituality
drawn to the Keeper's
wisdom & conviction
her purpose yet unknown & bewildering
before long, like a peris
released from penance,
the Keeper sang
of paradise for them to share
of rapture & honeyed romance without consequence
& a bed of dulcet, melodious colors for her ease
her escape was sure to have been hare footed
had the Manitou's
fierce specter materialized then
but aroused by splendor, her mind mesmerized,
rash & unwarned, she offered her heart to risk
***
sorceress, source seeker,
naught but interloper --
or as yet to be Shadow Queen?
or as yet to be Shadow Queen?
with hammer 'n' thong in place -- adoring love,
worship's ungainly relative, took them in hand
all the while a spiteful imp silently cautioned:
'the one you seek is a coward, a skinflint & he
lies!'
'oh no, not my radiant star, my mentor, my love,'
her unvoiced reply -- ' it must be him at any price!'
the cost was dear--ardent, tall, dark & handsome
all 's
fair in love & war was soon to be her rite of passage
in a whisker's time, she took up with scurrilous company
enthralled, her fall was swift -- her fate sealed
unknown to the lovers -- what could not be discerned
Mistress Art was to dictate their lifelong terms
songs & letters, raw & tender, patterned the way
devotion & affection embroidered the faltering years
in the fellowship of joint endeavors,
in love's province,
their folly was without equal
eventually when reach exceeded their grasp
even balance & peace equivocated
***
in the ever recurring,
relentless cycle of life
a passionate fantastical past was amassed
the Lore Keeper tantalized,
cultivated creativity,
fostering long memories skilled at seduction
the Shadow Queen's
lovers satisfied curiosity,
attested to appeal, but garnered meager happiness
to further
perpetuate their danse macabre
pitiless sarcasm
& callous criticism joined forces
crestfallen, damaged & hidebound
an ever ripening
harvest of defaults was theirs
enervated by a lack of bona fide prospects
avowal persisted, but face-to-face never ensued
a sterile "all for the best" was entertained,
as steadfastly they approached the last divide
the Shadow Queen,
amidst vintage flowers now
considers brilliant, unfaltering tributes in her honor
regretfully, aware her true-blue offering insufficient
to revitalize affinity, dulcify or reap perspective
throughout, even as thoughtless deeds were bared,
Mistress Art crafted regal, momentous compositions
like Shiva
& Vishnu, ever in perpetual
motion
relentlessly She demanded
-- vigorously She sustained
***
did gathering loyalty,
sacrifice & humility
render obsolete the lovers improbable dealings?
in the natural order of compassionate matters,
did forbearance add to the equation?
for what is the measure of a man if not his word?
a women's integrity, if not fidelity?
taxing excursions & remarkable escapades
enflamed their lives with imagination
as the Keeper's
charismatic spirit was challenged --
change & transfiguration his lure
diffidence & unease reigned unprovoked
aristocratic & unimpeachable were his creations
is his atypical legacy a comfort to him now?
do his intimate attachments promote advantage?
now that his symbolic gates are solid & secure
he reserves the right to visit dead men's songs
a wordsmith of note, a rhapsody of melodies his domain
ever gallant -- yet he would not cosset, or risk embrace
one providential tryst might have empowered &
released
but rather an ephemeral, quixotic love -- than loss
within their karmic connection of peculiar configuration,
an intricate balance was essential to sustain
***
the Lore Keeper's
outstanding, enduring skills are unreservedly embraced now --
his wondrous, immortal
songs designed to resound throughout time
_______________________________________________________
Triumph over Recrimination
you trimmed your sails to the wind
were glorified & shunned...& you survived
summoned by attention, memory quickens,
thinking of whatever it is you might need
only time marked the long ride
***
reason never really was called into account
habit's success, a search for old bones
a mighty slice I
took, or did you steal it?
not one to blow your cover & you so discreet
chastised by perpetual wonder
***
milady's vanilla teatime frame of reference
belied her sensual imaginings' preference
custom made & unnerved by victory
from mainstream to
garden variety sanctuary
laurel's rest & borrowed lines
***
zealous were entreaties for your love
irascible & laconic your defense
a medallion worthy of veneration & gratitude
your phantasmal & enigmatic bella figura
a bulwark of contradiction
***
poetic license reeked of impertinence
& if pride was
unacceptable, modesty served
laying on of guilt never was a lover's best shot
& if attention was fancied camouflage was vital
are our secrets' merit of significance still?
***
through yesteryear's skylight you arrived
through bygone gateways you departed
to tempt their odds for great rejoicing
wraith &whippoorwill chanced their luck
ineffable, the forest shared their silence
***
incandescent with rebellion you were
flagrant & exuberant with abandon
transcendentally gifted & implacable
few of consequence could intrude
spell-bending & sonorous your line of sight
***
soar with an angel & shed ecstatic tears
still earn neither earthly shelter nor sustenance
amidst artifice, derision & grandiosity --
volatile & coquettish our fine spun fate
in a surfeit of options, music carried the day
***
hunting for a getaway from half truths
marooned now by self imposed isolation
quiescent & listless the cove's genteel environs
my anchor, a diminutive, amiable creature
fyglia & sylphs in a fugue of support, sustain
***
alienation of affection -- the bleakest of hazards
contrite, hope prevailed over knowledge
ever inclined to interact with our time on earth
as if eternity is assured & secured
benighted gratitude suggested renewal
***
cue & tune were recognized -- like a woodnote
but at the appointed time, we missed the boat
were we not blanketed with conviviality?
do we no longer figure in your negative space?
***
ever is my desire to hold fast to your esteem
_____________________________
_____________________________
NOTE: Authorship (copyrighted material) of this and other blogs (a limited selection of work) PSEUDONYMS: GENERAL: Hazel Brock, Hazel Badger POETRY: Queen of Swords, NOVELS: Clifford Riker, Rebecca Rockwell INTERNET: Peggy Day, Stephanie Badger, et al , ARTWORK: AlexRa (Alexandra Lukas-Dallas)
http://toopersonalforpublicconsumption.blogspot.com/
Down the Road 2016
http://fallenangelshazelrespond.blogspot.com/
For Whatever It's
Worth - Zeitgeist Unbridled/Nashville Bound 2015
http://worthathousandwordsbob.blogspot.com/
Blood in Vain 2015 ?
http://foreveranadmirer.blogspot.com/
Render Me Willing
2015
http://toopersonalforpublicconsumption.blogspot.com/
Lyrics on My Mind -
Tempest Review
http://rockinreelinride.blogspot.com/
All I Want to Do -
Author's "Bon Mots'
http://rockrealride.blogspot.com/
Rumblings and
Ramblings - Music Library
http://littlemissmuffetridesagain.blogspot.com/
"...with one
hand waving free" - artwork, etc.
http://rockingreelingride.blogspot.com/
Same Place, Same Time
- Other Poets
http://cyberspaceinsanity.blogspot.com/
"Long Have I
Desired" Medieval Tale
http://rockinrollinride.blogspot.com/
"...'til the
wheels fall off" - Mail from an
Admirer/Photos
http://blogger2sillytobetrue.blogspot.com/
The Light and Grace
of Starless Wanderers/Drum Photos
http://rockinreelinrideagain.blogspot.com/
"...not dark
yet" - poems/drawing by Queen of
Swords
http://rockreelinride.blogspot.com/
..In Praise of Bob
Dylan 2014
http://bloggeratbottomofthebarrel.blogspot.com/
