Feb. 5th, 2017

jazzy_dave: (Default)
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.
jazzy_dave: (Default)
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.
jazzy_dave: (Default)
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

jazzy_dave: (Default)
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

Feb. 5th, 2017 11:49 pm
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