After Long Braving

Who is to say

And how will you know

How the world turns this way

After you go

Making plans for that

And every other thing -

See the fishermen chat, waiting on Spring.

There I was thinking no particular thought,

Round up the wagons, share what you caught-

'Til at once the sea shifted --

And the stars they did lend

A light in the distance

Once round the bend.

There you stood waving

All I knew to be true -

After long, braving

The familiar brand new.

July 24, 2010

You Know How I Feel

Sometimes you just gotta share the luv...

Video Credit: This video was created for a motion graphics class in the SVA MFA Design Program. The assignment was to create a music video using just type and typographic elements in black and white.

Hard Times Come Again No More

This moving performance of Stephen Foster's civil-war ballad leaves me speechless. God bless the people of Haiti.


http://www.mtv.com/videos/misc/474734/mary-j-blige-hard-times-come-again-no-more-live.jhtml


As we pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears
Let us all taste the hungers of the poor.
There's a song that will linger forever in our ears:
Hard times, come again no more.


It's a song and a sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door.
Hard times, come again no more.


As we seek mirth, and beauty, and music light and gay
There are frail forms fainting at the door.
Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say:
Hard times, come again no more.


It's a song and a sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door.
Hard times, come again no more.


It's a song that the wind blows across the troubled wave.
It's a cry that is heard along the shore.
It's the words that are whispered beside the lowly grave
When hard times will come again no more.


It's a song and a sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door.
Hard times, come again no more.


- Stephen Foster

Baby Blue

The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense.
Take what you have gathered from coincidence.
The empty-handed painter from your streets
Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets.
This sky, too, is folding under you
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.

-Bob Dylan

Strike another match, go start anew.

Further On Down The Road

Further on down the road round the crook and up the bend
Left you surely thinking it was nearer the end.
On the riverbank a conversation left behind,
Too much left unsaid sweet friend, words fall out of rhyme.

Further on down the road where the owl does not speak
And the lark goes undetected and the willow does but creek.
A moment wondering ‘bout it, little matters in the end
When the clock and swagger dangle and the joker brings his friend.

Stood a while
Right then and there
Bare naked in the sun,
Made a plea for god’s forgiveness
Received them all but one.
Calling out to Budda,
Farrarh and the flame --
Are you well, Sabu?
And isn't it a shame.

So I kept on walking, passed the holy shrine
Burnt my last three wishes, drank the holy wine.

Forgotten all about it, chalked it up this time
Thought it better in the end to reach for the sublime.

Further on
Down the road
Passed the great divide
The pyramids of Egypt
Phantoms of the mind --
Walked steady
Right on through them
Met you on the other side.
It was foolish thinking
You would take the ride.

Further, further
Walking, walking still
Keeping steady all the while
Waiting for the chill --
Deep inside the forest where the river keeps her word
And the mocking bird tells you everything silly thing she's heard.

There I go a walking, walking farther still
Sending postcards to the needy, photos from the mill --
Where everything gets muddy and the king and queen decline
Complain it's just not funny, these verses out of rhyme.

There I go a walking, a walking farther still
Keep my eyes on look out perch for sparrow and whip-poor-will.
Knowing they will lead me to the conversation by the brook
Too much left unsaid sweet friend, perhaps I’ll write a book –
Further on down the road.

- bellini