My second fave (Behind "Beautiful"
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
A: Cause I can't play the music I hear in my head!
AR365 Day 117. Theme: Music
Today's audio track, from a pretty good band with a limited but dedicated following, playing from the 3rd finest album in the history of the world. ((A Sigh For You by DA (aka Daniel Amos) from their 1986 album Fearful Symmetry))
To follow my 365 on Flickr, check in HERE
Thursday, January 27, 2011
AR365 Day 116: Theme: Music.
(okay, were stretching this to illustrate settings that beget music.)
for more images of Ozell and Derick, or to follow my 365 project
Ozell and his nephew Derick inside the Wright Shoe-Shine Parlor, a business which has been quietly in operation for some 30 years, in a warehouse looking-space in Downtown Little Rock, AR (USA)
For your listening enjoyment:
The Soul of a Man (Blind Willie Johnson Version)
or my favorite modern rendition:
The Soul of a Man (Bruce Cockburn Version)
Thursday, January 20, 2011
An old but iconic Kirk poem
A Stained Glass Spider Web Cathedral (3/91)
When funnel clouds clip rainbows
in our world, where the vestiges of Eden whirl
in a mash of mangled parrot wings
or Iris, smithereened to make
We can see why rainbows flinch;
They don’t make it very long.
Banshee decibels defign, the decimating means:
Locomotive grinding wheel , cone of writhen hate,
vicious biting vapors, Hell-
Each bashing is a moment-ary
From icon wrenched
reched red, shrapnel butterflies
Violently constr ue d, arch
From Arch etype
(The sky is reeling odd tonight!)
I’ve read about those pristine days when rainbow shard was rare.
Lions still ate lily-pads, and rattlesnakes were raging fads
As playmates for the nursery.
Prisma-ash is pollen now,
Coursing through our breath,
Twisted beauty permeates, and I like eating meat.
The eyes of flies are pigment parks in geodesic dome,
Black radiance with chandelier, stuffed in honeycomb.
Oil on the parking lot, mimics Northern lights:
Borealis flares in beaded rain, on surfaces like night.
Death implied is banking, pivoting on air
A bloodied stink is calling to a colored thoroughfare.
Gliding white as whisper, missiles cruise the dark
Pilot fish are dental floss for shearing shard of shark.
The cacti in the desert, wear a brutal fringe,
Prickle pear, with rain, explode into a floral binge.
Snow flakes falling virgin white, in the tilted world
Would we know that dance at all, if sin were not unfurled?
Now I share my paradox:
I believe in paradise, with us once and yet to come:
"World without End…"
I believe in beauty too:
"Meadows from His garden here."
But these strange shattered-glories, fallen-splendors reign
Carving raging channels, deep within my brain
Of a convoluted beauty,
Heaven would exclude.
Note: This early poem totally baffled the class to which I presented it. Several praised the images, but it met with an almost universal “hungh”. One kid said that it said “nothing” well, then added that he liked it till it mentioned God. Now I don’t know if I missed on a communication level because the poem really is too abstract, or if I was simply working with alien themes. I wanted to press a religious question with out sounding like a bible.