tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52178742009-11-22T14:51:51.868-06:00Chevaux de Bataille and Random Quotidian ThoughtsJonahnoreply@blogger.comBlogger2118125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-41127759697719324312009-11-07T06:31:00.002-06:002009-11-07T07:04:11.928-06:00

Pleased to report I have a fully functioning fur-bearing alarm clock. Unfortunately, she does not recognize the difference between Friday and Saturday.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-71608074711750949592009-10-06T18:06:00.001-05:002009-10-06T18:12:20.014-05:00

Satan wears satinwhile he stands athis subOlympian heightswatching twilight melt into morningHe's been walkingup and down suburban asphaltHe's been drinkingStarbucks espressoHe's a Walmartsecret shopperHe's been walkingup the valleysdown the mountainspast the prayer flagsof russett and goldHe's been goingto and fro in the earthbyways and causewaysboardwalks and boulevardsthe inland coast and the

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-47330850270373559822009-09-03T07:39:00.001-05:002009-09-03T07:41:30.838-05:00

A documentary on Dalton Trumbo was on PBS last night. 90 minutes, and fantastic. Man, he could write! And apparently couldn't stop writing, no matter what. I hope you got a chance to see it; if not, definitely put it on your Netflix cue. I had put it on mine when I first heard the film was coming out; I plan to see it a 2nd time. If there's a book of selected letters by Trumbo, I want it.The

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-82837392041899955352009-08-14T06:43:00.006-05:002009-08-15T06:16:57.859-05:00

O guitar, I sold you,first guitar I ever had.I sold your string set too high,higher than the valleys in my left fingertips.I sold the missing bridge knob,and the broken strap peg.I sold the mahogany.I sold your faint sunburst.You were the first guitar I ever had, purchased by my dadin the famous dreams of my youthwhen my heart was an alternating basswhen I was an apostrophecurled around your

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-2574797143866549492009-08-05T06:14:00.004-05:002009-08-05T11:52:11.960-05:00

Psalm 119:77I am very willful. I expect things to go my way, and pout when they don't. I suppose myself to be "smarter than the average bear", and expect to learn new things easily. If I don't pick it up in one sitting, I'm likely to drop it rather than persevere.For example, I play the guitar, and would like to expand the picking patterns I use. Problem is, learning new patterns requires

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-84868501515301012602009-07-15T06:15:00.001-05:002009-07-15T06:18:21.956-05:00

This poem was originally posted in this very space; now you can hear a performance with appropriately bluesy guitar. You may read the text at my poetry site.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-62605782403560003472009-07-06T16:19:00.001-05:002009-07-06T16:20:15.305-05:00

Grant that the lip-sticked pig is gone for good. Nice of her to have SNL write her resignation speech, though.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-614278516255776432009-06-24T06:27:00.003-05:002009-06-24T06:28:58.684-05:00

Just a song before I go, something to cheer you in case the heat has got you down. NOLA immigre Theresa Andersson (originally from Sweeden) has the most talented feet in music.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-56016145080052103332009-06-20T07:34:00.001-05:002009-06-20T07:36:08.430-05:00

Petra Haden & the Sell Outs perform the classic Pete Townsend tune. Impressive acapella work.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-64961863548024025632009-06-14T07:44:00.003-05:002009-06-14T07:48:26.285-05:00

This video is for Natalie, who commented that she wished she could hear the poem. The text of the poem is available at my postcard site.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-14429998132031015292009-06-11T06:30:00.002-05:002009-06-11T06:32:42.701-05:00

There's a couple of stumbles here - who knew I'd be so unsure in front of a camera? - but I think the point of the medley comes across. Shot with a Flip Ultra.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-73302374650770096182009-04-22T06:24:00.005-05:002009-04-22T06:40:51.665-05:00

You live in my heartbut nowyou're a victim of crow time —struck dumb by green patchesfenced in by brown & gray —and by the mystery of ashen urns.Sky pure black, sparked by dove starsand the moon is a sliver balancinga firm ball of lighton its thin point — &I'm reminded of your simple black hair,sparks hidden in its strands.You live in my eyes,but stillyou're a hostage to crow time —lost amid men

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-40516568837532775772009-04-16T06:40:00.000-05:002009-04-16T06:41:13.822-05:00

Truth, in matters of religion, is simply the opinion that has survived. – Oscar Wilde, writer (1854-1900)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-61584723412334252312009-04-14T18:55:00.000-05:002009-04-14T18:56:33.866-05:00

Mandolin blues. What a concept.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-68647059466428215562009-03-23T06:36:00.000-05:002009-03-23T06:37:05.389-05:00

It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society. — J. Krishnamurti, author, speaker, and philosopher (1895-1986)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-81717396774877178752009-03-22T08:05:00.000-05:002009-03-22T08:06:45.777-05:00

Tip o' the tam shander to Brother Dave.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-89323060799558822942009-03-21T08:46:00.002-05:002009-03-21T08:47:04.340-05:00

Once filled with spring dreams, today they are sighing, bending their heads to the west.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-35092292781967506462009-03-18T06:24:00.001-05:002009-03-18T06:24:56.366-05:00

What monstrosities would walk the streets were some people's faces as unfinished as their minds. – Eric Hoffer, philosopher and author (1902-1983)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-57290139723766115242009-03-17T06:30:00.003-05:002009-03-17T06:36:01.343-05:00

I really like the sound of this track, what I presume to be the second "single" from the album of the same name. I've listened to the 30 sec snippets available on iTunes, and the album as a whole sounds interesting. It's a "concept" album, similar to their previous album, The Crane Wife. The difference being that album had two stories told over a series of tracks, with 2-3 tracks being outside

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-91189543203053699622009-03-14T11:18:00.002-05:002009-03-14T11:19:50.246-05:00

Herewith, the traditional wooden cross set up on Shrove Tuesday, to stand in the courtyard through Lent.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-86230608960545209812009-03-07T17:19:00.001-06:002009-03-07T17:20:35.464-06:00

Andrew Lloyd Weber at his best. According to the originating page, Ms. Westenra was 15 when this was filmed.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-78215467522417885732009-03-04T06:10:00.002-06:002009-03-04T06:11:18.506-06:00

Two of four.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-82468183625853976232009-03-02T06:46:00.002-06:002009-03-02T06:48:35.975-06:00

The lake at St. Crispin's (near Seminole), about a quarter of 7. One of four. Maybe five.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-46172454975969744212009-01-27T09:42:00.004-06:002009-01-27T10:55:39.727-06:00

Ice white as snowbrown grass designsa rorschach lawnA smile as thin as New Hampshireor as long as Californiaor as wide as Texasor as false as Wall Street.Eyes bright as a new moonor as broad as the Milky Way.Eyes searching eyes or busy crowds.Eyes evening drowsy.Eyes with pupils dancing like sweep second handsFingernails, songs at their tips,half moons under quarter lightWarm hand on handHead on

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-7807441629940455092009-01-24T09:49:00.002-06:002009-01-24T10:30:15.210-06:00

Pete Seeger, his grandson Tao Rodriguez, and Bruce Springsteen. Note that Pete, that wonderful iconoclast, sings verses rarely recorded - "By the relief office, I saw my people" and "The great big sign there said Private Property".

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1