Friday, August 29

"Wistful at the Window"


Image 1 of 10 in a series about Jackson's life.

(please click for larger image)

Tuesday, August 19


The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

— William Butler Yeats (1920)


Wednesday, August 13

I guess I'll cancel my holiday plans to Tbilisi.



SILENCE THE VOICES
(Chris Cornell)

There the soldiers, in the sunlight
Kill the center of a man in endless suicide
By the night light, in a foreign sky
Is a holstered, bridled child spinning round the flame.

Each is loved now or remembered
By the mask they wore years before the future
And the horse falls in the smoke filled riot
The center of a child grows in new disguise.

And where are the songs from the sane minds?
And where are the words from the sound mouths?
I can't understand how they silence the voices.

It's a new day, in the old life
He looks healthy with a tan on the white sheet
Across the table, where the blood dries
Where infinity will greet these earthly confines.

And where are the songs from the sane minds?
And where are the words from the sound mouths?
I can't understand how they silence the voices.

That say No.
That say No.

It's a new day, in the old life
In the silence of the absence....

And where are the songs from the same minds?
And where are the words from the sound mouths?
I can't understand how they silence the voices
That say No.

I can't understand how they silence the voices.


Friday, August 8

Life is what it is.




Your own face never lies to you.

(Taken 8-8-8)

Broken Arrow
(Neil Young)

The lights turned on and the curtain fell down,
And when it was over it felt like a dream,
They stood at the stage door and begged for a scream,
The agents had paid for the black limousine
That waited outside in the rain.
Did you see them, did you see them?
Did you see them in the river?
They were there to wave to you.
Could you tell that the empty quivered,
Brown skinned Indian on the banks
That were crowded and narrow,
Held a broken arrow?

Eighteen years of American dream,
He saw that his brother had sworn on the wall.
He hung up his eyelids and ran down the hall,
His mother had told him a trip was a fall,
And don't mention babies at all.
Did you see him, did you see him?
Did you see him in the river?
He was there to wave to you.
Could you tell that the empty quivered,
Brown skinned Indian on the banks
That were crowded and narrow,
Held a broken arrow?

The streets were lined for the wedding parade,
The Queen wore the white gloves, the County of Song,
The black covered caisson her horses had drawn
Protected her King from the sun rays of dawn.
They married for peace and were gone.
Did you see them, did you see them?
Did you see them in the river?
They were there to wave to you.
Could you tell that the empty quivered,
Brown skinned Indian on the banks
That were crowded and narrow,
Held a broken arrow?


Neil Young

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