Monday, June 27, 2011

Music Mondays (6/27/2011): Berryman and Widespread Panic

"Dream Song #29"
by: John Berryman

There sat down, once, a thing on Henry’s heart
só heavy, if he had a hundred years
& more, & weeping, sleepless, in all them time
Henry could not make good.
Starts again always in Henry’s ears
the little cough somewhere, an odour, a chime.

And there is another thing he has in mind
like a grave Sienese face a thousand years
would fail to blur the still profiled reproach of. Ghastly,
with open eyes, he attends, blind.
All the bells say: too late. This is not for tears;

But never did Henry, as he thought he did,
end anyone and hacks her body up
and hide the pieces, where they may be found.
He knows: he went over everyone, & nobody’s missing.
Often he reckons, in the dawn, them up.
Nobody is ever missing.


"I am Not Alone"
by Widespread Panic

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Wife's Blog: More Pictures, More Exciting, and More Info on Life

Check out my wife's blog. She has been posting about our upcoming move back to NC.

Flood 2011: Update (again)

It has been awhile since I last posted pictures of the 2011 flood. The water has left our house, but it is completely destroyed. My folks said they took lots of pictures, so as soon as I can get a hold of those I will post.

As of now, I do not know all the details, but I have heard that it has been an issue getting all the inspections, codes, permits, etc. for getting back into the house (or at least to begin the process of rebuilding).

Again, will posts pictures and update everyone as soon as I find out more information. If you have any questions or information, please post them in the comment section.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Music Mondays (6/20/2011): Charles Baudelaire and The Dutchess and the Duke

The Ghost

by Charles Baudelaire

Like angels that have monster eyes,
Over your bedside I shall rise,
Gliding towards you silently
Across night's black immensity.
O darksome beauty, you shall swoon
At kisses colder than the moon
And fondlings like a snake's who coils
Sinuous round the grave he soils.

When livid morning breaks apace,
You shall find but an empty place,
Cold until night, and bleak, and drear:
As others do by tenderness,
So would I rule your youthfulness
By harsh immensities of fear.

— Trans. Jacques LeClercq, Flowers of Evil (Mt Vernon, NY: Peter Pauper Press, 1958)



by The Dutchess and the Duke

Monday, June 13, 2011

Music Mondays (6/13/2011): Patricia Fargnoli and Rev. Gary Davis

"Remaking "Les Deux Mulets"
after Chagall

I have cut away the bandit with the knife in his teeth
and now I can pretend the red on the chest of the mule
is not blood but blossom. I have cut away the bags of grain
that were lying on the mule's back, making of themselves a burden.
I have buried then behind the night. And now I can pretend
the second mule is only sleeping; I can pretend the night
pulses with dreaming, imagine extravagant music.
This is how I want to handle the trouble
in the world: fracture the sky into floating triangles, give it
not one moon but two, mount the changed earth
against a yellow background,
turn all the murders into sleeping peaceful bodies.

--from Patricia Fargnoli's Duties of the Spirit


"Death Don't Have No Mercy"
by Rev. Gary Davis

Monday, June 6, 2011

Music Mondays (6/6/2011): Frank O'Hara and Pavement

Personal Poem

by Frank O'Hara

Now when I walk around at lunchtime

I have only two charms in my pocket

an old Roman coin Mike Kanemitsu gave me

and a bolt-head that broke off a packing case

when I was in Madrid the others never

brought me too much luck though they did

help keep me in New York against coercion

but now I'm happy for a time and interested

I walk through the luminous humidity

passing the House of Seagram with its wet

and its loungers and the construction to

the left that closed the sidewalk if

I ever get to be a construction worker

I'd like to have a silver hat please

and get to Moriarty's where I wait for

LeRoi and hear who wants to be a mover and

shaker the last five years my batting average

is .016 that's that, and LeRoi comes in

and tells me Miles Davis was clubbed 12

times last night outside BIRDLAND by a cop

a lady asks us for a nickel for a terrible

disease but we don't give her one we

don't like terrible diseases, then

we go eat some fish and some ale it's

cool but crowded we don't like Lionel Trilling

we decide, we like Don Allen we don't like

Henry James so much we like Herman Melville

we don't want to be in the poets' walk in

San Francisco even we just want to be rich

and walk on girders in our silver hats

I wonder if one person out of the 8,000,000 is

thinking of me as I shake hands with LeRoi

and buy a strap for my wristwatch and go

back to work happy at the thought possibly so

--from Lunch Poems


"Spit on a Stranger"


--from Terror Twilight