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Showing posts from August, 2007

if i lay here

night with the prince high temps n rambles the morning bought his healing the mid morning my infection now i lie and read bones ache energy gone head swims and i too wait for morning

and now for the weather

IWMFA broadcast: perfect winters evening ahead relative cold with rain night setting in early red wine n good company a hot meal convivial conversation gathered around the table children in dressing gowns n slippers adults with bright eyes n stories to share mystery discussed or implied in jokes loving glances common ground revisited travelling home through the inner city streets the car quiet the streets deserted classic sounds to soothe prince n poet until they are bundled into bed dreaming of new adventures n possibilities i will retire with a glass of some small magic to my chair listen to the music of the night rain read small parts of A bhishiktananda nod off into moments of blissful respite curl up next to my girl and sleep dreamlessly tomorrows forecast is unknown but there is always hope

bookends n markers

old friend here last night of long association with her new companion wine n pasta established lines of communication bring happiness once more we sit n chat n eat introduce the new discuss the old compare notes on time passed the good the bad n the best forgotten. tastes n sounds the children n their hidden interesting lives what became of? what are they doing? do you still see? do you remember? are you still going? there is always so much to discuss much love to share and recreate when old friends meet time slips away. quickly quickly now the adventures of years vanish in an eye blink perhaps in the intricacies of conversation caught in a slip we become the person we were then for a brief moment for better or worse then time slave driver to the last reluctant to be shuttled back n forth reasserts equilibrium we return to ourselves this brief glimpse terrifyingly enlightening and perhaps humorous all at once what progress we have made or not what a path we travelled or return upon wha...

goodbye alison

how strange to end up here after all this time. still these beige walls offer some respite an interlude from the crashing ocean within. even as a bystander i wear my dark ensemble de rigeur for these moments sunglasses appear despite the gloom of a winters morn. i wear mine n ck merely looks impassive her long coat drawn as we wait quiet small talk ensues greetings exchanged by gesture family members long not seen renew contacts in silence then gathered together we process. how old fashioned it seems. marching silently together like a motley army but we arrive and take our places there is no pushing or vying for position we merely sit and listen gaze upon the wood n flowers n wonder what could have been. we listen realise how little we knew how little we perhaps truly understood marveled that our experience was a shared one that i was and am not alone in this that love was shared and found in another and then it is finished this moment in time of remembrance consideration celebration...

three day cameos

sunday sans temple sans car trip through the inclement weather sans having to decide was it good or ....? instead it was slow speed coffee books dvds music pancakes yesterdays paper children entertaining themselves adults slow to mentally come round holy - time -------------------------------------------- awake wind howling small child joined me at some point of the night stroking their hair i realise its the young prince disturbed by the night noise he sleeps peacefully by my side no wonder he has all the pillow it is just before 6 but dark as the deepest night rain pours windows shudder my senses increase my wakefulness i worry (again) about the huge palm tree in our garden but it has been here the 40 years of the house and has stood firm so i worry for worries sake somewhat the lad is now silent but awake together we wait warm and secure for the day to begin ----------------------------------- later morning now the sounds fill the house sizzling boiling moving dancing michelle boo...

digging around for the reason

what inspires you freends? a cough - e? da moosic? painting n poets n pleasure? love? a crush? envy? pain? its a grab bag for me a mixture of all that floats around in the synapses n pathways of the hemispheres last night it was red red wine the church the quiz n the cheese which seems to slow down all the mental work... this morning it is coffee n eggs winny n chant what mixed up masterpiece will come out of all this ? you ask quite rightly perhaps a cafe smart children's space rock spiritual treatise? or 100 culinary quiz questions? a mystical chant on the tao of pooh interpreted and placed on a red wine bottle label? mistress inspiration comes in waves townshend had it down this is THE mystery you play the same thing for days or weeks months even then one day WHAM! it hits you the over played idea becomes a song a symphony a track you're off or not sometimes the inspiration to continue comes hard sometimes not the idea remains that just an inkling of what could be other time...

moving on, in and out

days are lengthening n my time grows shorter the change from here to there is taking its toll neither one thing or the other not yet finished or begun this strange nether world of boxes n files forms to be completed books returned final partings n first impressions no feeling of belonging at either place perhaps this is a place of strength to be myself stand on my own be my own man the solitary the survivor alpha male but still the shackles hold me... the conversations have changed too now others know I am going into a pastoral role a new man a caring being i am been asked deeper things by my colleagues truths are spoken confidences shared people opening doors to parts of themselves hidden from me in the past years criticism bought to light questions asked observations made tightropes of self being walked tell all to the departing man the wanderer the gypsy he is safe to tell he is safe to complain to he safe to confide in he is safe to ask i am not sure i want to be safe i always thou...

bede

Slowly slowly this afternoon i'm watching the sun come across the neighbours fence the grass of our lawn almost translucent in the mid light heat shadowy field could be me been listening a lot to bede griffiths these last few days a free poddy of his meditation teaching you know him freends student of the narnia creator CSL anglican turned roman lay man turned monk Westerner turned east right brain turned left or is that left turned right you know- from conscious planning mind to feeling being mind follower turned guru man who discovered the feminine in himself teacher writer pray-er explorer of the common ground between and within faiths a true holy man for our times i could listen to his frail authoritative voice forever he was 85 when he gave these talks you can tell within the first sentence he knows he's been there he's felt the divine explored the mystery at depth sitting cross legged on the floor or upright in a chair teaching a c hristianity beyond anything ...

after the day

day ends light fades children grab bags n head for the hills lonely sullen teachers gaze silently at their desks sigh heavily leave quickly a meeting fortuitously abandoned rain has fallen effortlessly as the children leave its timing impeccable but now falls harder as others the seniors run for their vehicles whether running early or late no one is sure dark sinister clouds are gathering in the west deep in the roaring forties wind n rain n mood shifts imminent i pack my things my children my leaky bag my book on grief my dreams into the red chariot the children fidget n moan wave at friends still waiting for collection half discuss their day half fight n half tell me things which is pretty cool since that's 1 1/2 they wonder what will happen next we drive through the end of day streets their dialogue an aural wallpaper to my concentrated nothingness we could drive like this for ever but coffee calls as ever and as always we arrive home

wonder n beauty n the city

i love the city i do i play mental games of country life i flirt with it like a beautiful girl at a party making you feel good with her smile her positive bio rhythms but you both know its just a nice chat little giggle diversion n you'll remember her later with happiness but no attachment thats me n the wide blue yonder to a t love to visit n look but send me home the older i get the closer to the city i want to be cafes obscure little food shops signs in languages you didn't even know existed artists businessmen busy people full stop passers bys tourists school kids going to inner city schools with mates from all over the globe travelling on free buses street musicians plying their trade with humour n various amounts of skill inner city churches mostly deserted weekdays places of beauty n art if ya lucky art gallerys museums festivals n parades train stations packed for the daily grind its home to me my inspiration and more n more the place where i experience the mystery mos...

empty breathing madness

sits at a chair the map of love laid out splashing in clear water the poet the prince two young bodies being shaped by movement by words of encouragement n wisdom learning to hold themselves the right way the smart way the way of speed n efficiency i push myself through laps forcing this unfit temple to obey to be chastised for some unimaginable sin try to breathe trying not to stop concentrate imagine fish but not fried ... i leave this cold dungeon sit with tea n my beads watching the littlies going back n forth their young teachers guiding n admonishing in equal amounts keeping focus. all the while i just breathe n sit n watch until cold bodies leave the water to be smothered in towels n cuddles n kisses quickly resplendent in fashionable outfits guided to the vehicle this is the moment for grumpy n snappy to arrive until we are home for nourishment literary spiritual n physical before pooh and lights out

fear of fear and fearing fear fearfully

do we ever truly escape the past? does its influence within us ever cease? can we be freed even if we desire such a thing? long forgotten moments of unawareness dis-compassion ego driven selfishness what-the-hell-was-i-thinking-ness bite and maul as if they had been biding their time like stalking wolves some i know suffer with the black dog a universe of grey n more grey where nothing is happy or sad it just is i suppose this is the same when my defences are down fear comes skulking its heels back the real n unreal the healed n wounded imaginary n true all vying for my attention my self worth plummets a knot in my stomach the comrade at arms immobilised all seems real when these moments occur the worst will happen i shall be penniless my family shall leave abandoned damaged spurned broken ... this how fear leaves me shaken not stirred exhausted needing compassion companionship but afraid to receive it for fear... so i write freends to you getting it out breaking it open i seek silence...

volcanic relaxtion

afternoon sun take the cup shaky hands tremble with excitement n longing perhaps desperation daily dose pale fluid golden friend flaxen princess grass beech oak its dryness strangely soothing the end of day reward social stimulant fear reducer a glass or too makes you the affable companion one more a staggering poet the fourth in friendly slumber encased vino the drink of love of the novel of the poor and the rich in our sweet country the glut beyond belief wine of ridiculous worth sold for less than a meal its worth concealed the science of the vine a ticket to freedom a slow change in our culture from hops to grape in the words of the haggadah blessed are you lord for you created the fruit of the vine cheers!

princes poets n mystery

today a visiting lad spoke at the temple about listening to the mystery actually he used the g word but you know... and it was good n solid n entertaining but not a mention of silence ahhhh blessed silence which teaches n admonishes strengthens brings you to tears confuses enlightens crowds makes space our greatest companion our deadliest enemy the challenge the goal n the journey i try to teach the poet n prince about silence looking quiet waiting but childhood in the west seems to negate any hope of that sort of thing the young prince is a natural contemplative it seems he takes life slowly lives the moment fully he often can't be rushed he'll do whatever it is when he's ready -especially when it comes to school! any parent will tell you how frustrating this can be how to go slow is impossible when theres music school sport church ballet cafe swimming biblestudy party to get to n i have resisted until the last few days when i have found myself thinking maybe he's righ...

et cetera

i'm sort o tired of all the music reviews only ozzie band the whitlams n van the man morrison really left anyway hope ya enjoyed a walk through my itunes loads more in the cd cabinet anyway might pick a few out for ya later --------------------------------- last few days bit o job bit o self bit o this n that growth n pain visit to the dr for the inevitable blood test results et cetera seems i'm alive little over weight over stressed over it! so i need to chill eat better walk more riding even betta nothing new i'm hoping the new job is a new life and its up to me to make it so stress abounds at the salt mine this week i let the cat outta d bag a little early telling my class and their parents i was leaving without going through the right stuff but... oh well i'm letting it go today whole family out for brekkie at the fave cafe long macs n babycinos n eggs all round then education super store to purchase reading help for the young prince (who is at age 5 is h...

dan roses council wait

great way to continue the s' steely dan anal audio stereo sound aficionados songwriting humorous meaningful beat n down town session musicians abound in house dry humour no respect for the industry in which they fashion their craft sublime aural experiences grooves just so esoteric harmonies this album the royal scam is the boys trying to be rockier harder n funkier social commentary family breakdown political comment its all here plus larry carlton on fire throughout the session and bernard purdie on the kit i dont listen to it as much as i did but it still rocks me! The stones rose self titled debut lp fools gold the single wah wah funky lates 60's inspired psychedelic bliss bomb this was the real precursor to brit pop they were awesome or bloody awful depending on the gig the band tight the singer fashionably disengaged good stuff from a young band style council my first obsession the first band i bought magazines for saved my meager pocket money to buy import singles lps ep...

p r s - fill in the letters for a complete experience

break in transmission caused by children weather poverty illness climate change and a busy day p is for paul weller the jam the style council solo career what can you say about a man who had a recording contract at 18 formed one seminal band playing mod wrote about his growing up as a late teen resonated with a whole generation broke it up so he could move on amidst tears rumours n spite formed a complete different outfit played soul n jazz n funk and when he had done that went out on his own became a icon and mentor to a generation reinvented himself kept moving forwards confronted criticism head on (a bit too head on actually...) and continues being out there pushing himself? What do you say? Well done mate! He is a seminal influence to me. The music i come back to the music which makes me up n happy makes me want to rock makes me buy pointy shoes n striped shirts and new suits is his thank you paul . now i've grovelled i have to do it again pete townshend influenced weller so...

k l m n o

k l m n o brothers n sisters any of you resonating with this stuff any music you love? hate? never ever heard of odd record to start today keith jarrett jazz piano player extraordinaire played with miles his own group on this album he plays Bach on piano, pretty straight but its beautiful restrained ethereal perfect lovely stuff next lowell george n little feat classy writing n playin george was a guitarist of the highest calibre rootsy n southern funky n blusey this band rocks n rolls stumbles n slides the tunes heart felt the themes universal love lost found n screwed up and drivin trucks but through it all gorgeous musicianship sublime piano playing from bill payne who played with james taylor after this they're pretty unknown outside the US and word-of-mouth communication but you can trust me freends this is gold luka bloom he of odd guitar tunings n racks of effects brother of irish singer songwriter national hero christy moore loved this debut album the rest are very very coo...

f 2 j

morning began with mayhem long delayed blood tests n coffee at usual haunts now freends its back to you f finn brothers couple of albums here furst won an experimental unfinished sort o thing second one fully produced rock monster songs about family n life n ageing good stuff The fray next loved this song of theirs over my head(cable car) didn't dig the first single so much a good lovey pop song with a moody riff n some cool alternative literary lyrics oh i forgot about this one the jam direction reaction creation box set they were amazing re interpreters of the mod tradition in the punk/post punk era 7 albums or so in 6 years incredible song writing from weller solid support for the other two guys and an impact beyond many others a true peoples band giving voice to a working class generation full of boredom hopelessness despair thats entertainment town called malice start the list goes on this box set is awesome too booklet 5 cds extras the lot get it for yourself not always e...

tunes c n d n e

straight in the church my boys not an unusual story talent songwriters have early success poetry space tunes rock kilbey and wilson piper crafting something interesting in the early post punk era of '81 drugs collapse some great music some not so great then beyond all belief reinvention two incredible acousticy albums and a rocking up electric one check our priest=aura uninvited like the clouds hmmmm crosby stills n nash the first wooden album suite judy blue eyes clever song, clever title love this record harmonies to die for have definitely over played it but i still get tingles thinking of them at woodstock what a gig ahhh here's some class crowded house i've waxed about em before neil an incredible writer arranger the boys some of the funniest live shows i've ever seen never saw 'em live, just the dvd and now they're back awesome. Curtis a one name musician always means greatness stevie miles marvin isaac see what i mean? this is a compilation of ...

tunes a and b

no more random thoughts looking today at my itunes from a - z the musicians the artists the songs the how-the-hell-did-that-get-in- theres first cab Arvo Part genius minimalist composer orthodox foundations (as in the one holy orthodox church) pathos beauty restraint try his miserere or te deum for starters it'll change your life! next Band Aid Do they no its xmas lets move on shall we? The Beach Boys Pet Sounds Got this because Mc Cartney said it was a great influence i like it but don't love it probably need to spend more time with it moving on to The Beatles I mean what can you say? All those great tunes awesome arrangements you keep listening and 2o years later you hear things you haven't heard before this is music i have travelled with loved to cried to and experienced if you haven't, you should. Ben Lee Australian wunder kid teen pop musician Last album about breaking up n growing n spiritual awakening We are all in this together is a key track for me Bill...