Good Morning

Oh poor cat!

Another Relaxing Sunday

Sony for not posting earlier but i have a relaxing day away from the net just relaxing ,listening to music and the radio,plus doing dome reading. Consequentially i have missed out ob three supermarket cafe visits from React but i guess there will be other jobs round coming soon.

I listened to some Radio 4,Poetry Please,The Book Review, The News Quiz, and the excellent Fry's English Delight.

I have finished off a couple of books with one more almost finished. So whilst not a working day a productive one.

Lunch was chicken bacon and leek hot pot with a jacket potato. Nice and warming.

Poems Of The Week

Two more poems that i love esp. the first one by American poet Frank O'Hara -


The Day Lady Died

BY FRANK O'HARA


It is 12:20 in New York a Friday
three days after Bastille day, yes
it is 1959 and I go get a shoeshine
because I will get off the 4:19 in Easthampton
at 7:15 and then go straight to dinner
and I don’t know the people who will feed me

I walk up the muggy street beginning to sun
and have a hamburger and a malted and buy
an ugly NEW WORLD WRITING to see what the poets
in Ghana are doing these days
I go on to the bank
and Miss Stillwagon (first name Linda I once heard)
doesn’t even look up my balance for once in her life
and in the GOLDEN GRIFFIN I get a little Verlaine
for Patsy with drawings by Bonnard although I do
think of Hesiod, trans. Richmond Lattimore or
Brendan Behan’s new play or Le Balcon or Les Nègres
of Genet, but I don’t, I stick with Verlaine
after practically going to sleep with quandariness

and for Mike I just stroll into the PARK LANE
Liquor Store and ask for a bottle of Strega and
then I go back where I came from to 6th Avenue
and the tobacconist in the Ziegfeld Theatre and
casually ask for a carton of Gauloises and a carton
of Picayunes, and a NEW YORK POST with her face on it

and I am sweating a lot by now and thinking of
leaning on the john door in the 5 SPOT
while she whispered a song along the keyboard
to Mal Waldron and everyone and I stopped breathing.


My Voice

BY RAFAEL CAMPO


To cure myself of wanting Cuban songs,
I wrote a Cuban song about the need
For people to suppress their fantasies,
Especially unhealthy ones. The song
Began by making reference to the sea,
Because the sea is like a need so great
And deep it never can be swallowed. Then
The song explores some common myths
About the Cuban people and their folklore:
The story of a little Carib boy
Mistakenly abandoned to the sea;
The legend of a bird who wanted song
So desperately he gave up flight; a queen
Whose strength was greater than a rival king’s.
The song goes on about morality,
And then there is a line about the sea,
How deep it is, how many creatures need
Its nourishment, how beautiful it is
To need. The song is ending now, because
I cannot bear to hear it any longer.
I call this song of needful love my voice.

The Times They Are A-Changing Back

I was listening to Billy Bragg in a discussion on a radio 4 programmer today about protest songs. He mentions people like Woody Guthrie and of course Bob Dylan. Anyway here is his reworking of a well known Dylan son g for our times now.

Billy Bragg - The Times They Are A-Changing Back

Sunday Music Selection - No Hype Here

Some more music now -let's start a revolution! And don't believe the hype!

Kirsty MacColl - A New England

( More music here )

Enjoy and revolt!

Thanks

What is the best or most memorable compliment that you’ve ever received? Who was it from, and why did it mean so much to you?

Good Night

Have a purr-fect one.