Pass it along

A friend twigged me to the music of Scott Cook and cued up this video. I’m going to be listening to more of this lyrical musician.

This here is my country, sometimes it’s hard to recognize it.
But, I count myself lucky, to have been born inside it.
And, I’m grateful for the rights others struggled hard to win.
And, you can be sure I’m gonna fight when they try to take ’em back again.

Dry thoughts

Windows open wide
for a scant breeze,
which nudges papers
on the desk,
through heading grasses
who slightly bend,
then to trace faint
patterns on receding pond.

This lazy breath
carries the hope
it is a herald of
needed rain.

Practice

By chance,
a little ball of feathers
bounced onto the
branch near me,
grabbed but bungled,
slipped sideways,
them upside down
and peeped.
Parents flitted nearby,
calling and
flying branch to branch
as if to say,
“Good work.
Keep it up.”

Song for America

In my high-school years, when I finally cottoned on to the promise of progressive rock, one of my favorite bands was Kansas. I really liked the combination of their musical adventurism and (looking back) their naivete (and my own). That franchise is still touring, approaching 50 years of performances.

Their Song for America mines familiar territory for progressive rockers. It’s a take on a paradise ruined by industrial expansion (ironic, given the way prog rock takes advantage of that very technological progress). But, after the lament comes the dream of what used to be and what may be again.

Highways scar the mountainsides,
buildings to the sky, people all around.
Houses stand in endless rows,
sea to shining sea, people all around.
So we rule this land,
and here we stand upon our paradise,
Dreaming of a place,
our weary race is ready to arise.

Lawn and garden

Spade snicks into soil.
Levers loam, uproots
untended undergrowth,
scattering settled seething life.
Beetles, ants, grubs, worms,
runners, roots and rot
see sunlight, surrender or scurry.

Make way for
aesthetic delight
on idle ground.

It gives way now.

If attention flags.
if untended again.
Patient, inexorable,
the displaced return,
to jostle and knit
a new, unseen design.

La Nuée

Simon Leoza wrote the music for this short, evocative film, a slow, imaginative take on a youngster who finally leaves an abusive parent with an infant sibling. It’s a gorgeous piece, full of strings, and the visuals are elegant. Viewers/listeners will have to imagine what’s going through the child’s mind. The adult has a stilted, one-sided attempt at a connection. There is a startling image that closes the piece which helps take the music’s theme into an imaginative direction.

For more of this composer’s vision, access a 35-minute performance with a small string ensemble, complete with accompanying light painting. It’s mesmerizing.

July 2

Nearing seven decades
And feeling it.

Shoes matter.
Lens implants help
Track tiny batteries
That help me hear.

Forecast:
Muggy summer highs in 90s
and orgies of neighborhood
shells, rockets and crackers.

Just outside,
Easy to see,

In rare July silence,
Nesting wren
grips bare birch branch
Near house hole,

Leafy shade to one side,
edging into bright light,
basks, preens
in early morning sun.

Dancing with Danger

Supreme moment for surfer Kipp Caddy. Stupendous wave at Shipsterns Bluff. Superb video by Chris Bryan. Splendid editing. This is must-watch five-minute film for video lovers who glory in the earth’s oceans’ power, for those who thrill at big-wave surfing and surfers, for those aspiring to make films, for those who just appreciate the coming together of all the elements for a breathtaking expression of human smallness in the face of nature’s dominance.