Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Grass
Carl Sandburg
 
 
Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work---
                    I am the grass; I cover all.
 
And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Shovel them under and let me work.
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
                    What place is this?
                    Where are we now?
 
                    I am the grass.
                    Let me work.
Lee Guk Hyun

Monday, September 29, 2014

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

-Walt Whitman

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

The Children's Hour
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupation,
That is known as the children's hour. 

I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet. 

From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair. 

A whisper and then a silence: 
Yet I know by their merry eyes,
They are plotting and planning together,
To take me by surprise.

A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall! 

They climb up into my turret 
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me,
They seem to be everywhere. 

They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!

Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all? 

I have you fast in my fortress
And will not let you depart,
But put you down in the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart. 

And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away! 

Monday, July 14, 2014

Monday, June 30, 2014

Monday, June 23, 2014

Monday, June 16, 2014

Friday, June 13, 2014

On the Beach at Night Alone
-Walt Whitman

On the beach at night alone,

As the old mother sways her to and fro singing her husky song,
As I watch the bright stars shining, I think a thought of the clef of the universes and of the future.
 
A vast similitude interlocks all,
All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons, planets,
All distances of place however wide,
All distances of time, all inanimate forms,
All souls, all living bodies though they be ever so different, or in different worlds,
All gaseous, watery, vegetable, mineral processes, the fishes, the brutes,
All nations, colors, barbarisms, civilizations, languages,
All identities that have existed or may exist on this globe, or any globe,
All lives and deaths, all of the past, present, future,
This vast similitude spans them, and always has spann'd,
And shall forever span them and compactly hold and enclose them.

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Frank Zappa & The Mothers Of Invention - 2/23/69, Rockpile, Toronto, Ontario (sbd)
Bacon Fat
Lonely Lonely Nights
Corrido Rock
Pachuco Hop
Behind the Sun
A Pound for a Brown
Sleeping in a Jar
Charles Ives
WPLJ
O in the Sky
All Night Long

Saturday, June 7, 2014

Friday, June 6, 2014

I got promoted at work recently.  Good news for me, maybe not so much for this blog.  The demands on my time are about to increase dramatically, and I'm not going to let it interfere with my family or faith, so other things will have to give - including this blog.  I'm (probably) not going away entirely, but my attention will be elsewhere.

Thanks.