sounds of Shreveport
Pastor Brady Blade Sr., Brian Blade & The Fellowship Band (Brian Blade, drums, et al.), Hallelujah Train, Shreveport Symphony Orchestra, “Let Your Light Shine on Me,” live, Shreveport, La., 2017
other day, Monhegan Island, Maine
Bring me the sunset in a cup –
—Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), from 140 (Franklin)
sounds of India
Nina Burmi (vocals), Ramesh Mishra (sarangi), Sanju Sahai (tabla), live, London, 2006
Who never lost, are unprepared
A Coronet to find!
—Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), from 136 (Franklin)
sounds of India
Hariprasad Chaurasia (1938-, bansuri), Raag Hansadhwani, live
I’m not lonely
because I have secrets;
I’m lonely because words
can’t bring the past into the present
(which amounts to the same thing).
—Rae Armantrout, from “Pretty Little” (London Review of Books, 7/19/18)
Buddy Guy, “This Is the End,” 1959
on the temple bell.
—Yosa Buson, 1716-1784 (translated from Japanese by Robert Hass)
Yesterday, working on a brief in an attempted-murder appeal, I began to run out of gas—then I bumped into this.
DJ Jazzy Jeff, live, Philadelphia, 2017
Lynda Barry, cartoonist, author, teacher, talks about poetry.
Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750), Chaconne (Partita No. 2 in D Minor); Ivry Gitlis (violin), live, Tokyo, 1990
Try to Praise the Mutilated World
by Adam Zagajewski (1945-)
(translated from Polish by Clare Cavanagh)
Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June’s long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of rosé wine.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You’ve seen the refugees going nowhere,
you’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
and leaves eddied over the earth’s scars.
Praise the mutilated world
and the gray feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
desert island disc
Sly and the Family Stone, Fresh, 1973
1. In Time 00:00
2. If You Want Me To Stay 05:47
3. Let Me Have It All 08:48
4. Frisky 11:44
5. Thankful N’ Thoughtful 14:56
6. Skin I’m In 19:38
7. I Don’t Know (Satisfaction) 22:33
8. Keep On Dancin’ 26:25
9. Que Sera, Sera 28:49
10. If It Were Left Up To Me 34:13
11. Babies Makin’ Babies 36:13
Now as a spirit
I shall roam
the summer fields.
—Katsushika Hokusai, 1760-1849 (Japanese Death Poems, Yoel Hoffmann, ed.)
Various DJs (Muqata’a, Sama’, et al.), live, Palestine (Ramallah), 6/22/18
[W]e may reason on to our heart’s content, the fog won’t lift.
—Samuel Beckett (1906-1989), “The Expelled”
Jimmy Ruffin, “What Becomes of the Brokenhearted,” 1966
Our share of night to bear –
Our share of morning –
Our blank in bliss to fill,
Our blank in scorning –
Here a star, and there a star,
Some lose their way!
Here a mist – and there a mist –
Afterwards – Day!
—Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), 116 (Franklin)