I know I posted this on the "class" blog a few months ago, but, I love these folks.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Used Poem IV
Two Different Worlds
The boy was sure of something,
She was just the one.
The girl was sure of nothing,
Her life had just begun.
For him, he'd found his partner,
There was never any doubt.
For her, he was fine for now,
But there was more to learn about.
He thought it was a perfect start,
Something bound to surely grow.
She thought it may be but a pause,
But had no words to tell him so.
DNJ
The boy was sure of something,
She was just the one.
The girl was sure of nothing,
Her life had just begun.
For him, he'd found his partner,
There was never any doubt.
For her, he was fine for now,
But there was more to learn about.
He thought it was a perfect start,
Something bound to surely grow.
She thought it may be but a pause,
But had no words to tell him so.
DNJ
Friday, December 26, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Used Poem III
Silence Is The Perfect Answer
For days, she painted blue.
She painted until she was drunk with blue,
Until lines grew thick, like Picasso’s blue—
Not bones, but the shadows of bones
In desert's harsh light.
She was painting in the place of making
And unmaking. Everything spilled
Open, tugging loose, breaking the dry river
Stones until their geode hearts bled, not red,
But with the cerulean she chose to use.
She heard the hawk cry thief, thief,
Marking the air. In the silence after,
She could almost trace the sound
Back to the beginning, to blue lines,
Liquid with light, She named them.
The Canyon. The Sediment. The Layers of Rock.
Then she dropped the hawk’s feather from high
Above and waited for the echo when it touched
The canyon floor. She waited forever and forever
And forever. No echo ever came.
DNJ
For days, she painted blue.
She painted until she was drunk with blue,
Until lines grew thick, like Picasso’s blue—
Not bones, but the shadows of bones
In desert's harsh light.
She was painting in the place of making
And unmaking. Everything spilled
Open, tugging loose, breaking the dry river
Stones until their geode hearts bled, not red,
But with the cerulean she chose to use.
She heard the hawk cry thief, thief,
Marking the air. In the silence after,
She could almost trace the sound
Back to the beginning, to blue lines,
Liquid with light, She named them.
The Canyon. The Sediment. The Layers of Rock.
Then she dropped the hawk’s feather from high
Above and waited for the echo when it touched
The canyon floor. She waited forever and forever
And forever. No echo ever came.
DNJ
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
"Dublin Blues"
I'm really taken with Texas Country Rock.
I think it's the honesty I feel in the lyrics. Maybe it's another acquired taste... like martinis.
I think it's the honesty I feel in the lyrics. Maybe it's another acquired taste... like martinis.
Friday, December 12, 2008
"Crying", Roy Orbison & K.D. Lang
Great song. These two enhance it with one of the best duet treatments of a popular song. Movie out takes in the video are from "Hiding Out" a 1987 film with Jon Cryer and Annabeth Gish. Frivolous, but not a bad '80s genre film.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Graham Gordy - Great article on writing
Double click on each page to make the type large enough to read.
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