The song is...

Monday, November 17, 2014

Words and Images for What Would Have Been Gene Clark's 70th Birthday

Today, on what would have been Gene Clark's 70th birthday, poet and photographer Regina A. Walker will grace us with her beautiful photographs. (Her poem "Hiraeth" started off the fall contests.)

Below is Regina's statement about her photography: "I look to capture emotions and images and intangible elements in my photography that are both obvious and obscure. There are many ways of seeing and I seek to capture every day images and present them in a unique way. I believe the camera is a tool that can be used in many ways, including as a paintbrush, and I strive to expand the medium to be ever more inclusive." ~ Regina Walker

I would also like to add Vasile Moldovan's haiku:

only a dream

wrapped in smoke

our past love

a ladder to sky-

flowers of iron

at each step

waiting the train

in the final station...

nothing, nobody

a well known refrain-

the whizz of the train

which arrives just now

Vasile Moldovan

Since he is new to The Song Is..., here is his bio:

Vasile Moldovan was cofounder(1991) and president(2001-2009) of the Romanian Society of Haiku. He won several awards and mentions at the international haiku contest and published (in his native language, Romanian and in English,some books of haiku, renku and tanka: Via Dolorosa, The Unseen Face of the Moon, Noah's Ark, Ikebana, On a Summer Day, After the Tempest... Now, he lives in Geneva, Switzerland.

I would like to add a link to my poem, "In the Third Year of The Drought," which picks up a phrase from "Lady of the North." Poet, editor, and educator H.R. Holt chose this poem for Walking is Still Honest! I hope that you will enjoy her blog-zine:

http://wishpoetrypress.com/2014/10/07/the-chaos-of-a-constant-drought/

To finish, here is some music for you. Apologies if they are repetitions from previous posts.

The first is Gene Clark's "Echoes": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FfBIMqoGhBs

The second is his "No Other": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GilrLIwBJE8

Here is a version of "Silver Raven" from the recent No Other tour: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cpka-AiRHD0 The singer is Iain Matthews of Fairport Convention.

"Lady of the North" is from Clark's album No Other: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDAYw-sWVg0

We'll finish up with a version of "The Train Leaves Here This Morning" and "In the Plan" that he did with Doug Dillard.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9GQDKkhAas

Enjoy!

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Jerry A. Scuderi's Vineyard Poems

As many of us face early evenings, a wintry mix, and even snow, relax and enjoy Jerry A. Scuderi's vineyard poems....

He takes us through the seasons, beginning with spring.

EMERALD RIDGE In Spring

Green, then an overwhelming sea of green.

Latent buds amass shoots then vines and leaves accompanied by a
cloudless blue sky.

Lost are posts, wires, and even the neutered ground below the
vineyard's rows.

Grasping arms search to connect the now hedge rows of awakened life
exploding plants.

Robins, catbirds, and wrens delight in this lush nesting haven.

Approaching mold, insects, and a scorching sun now arrive at their
playground.

Freckled with jeweled clusters, tangled with darting vines, dappled
with sunbeam seeking leaves disarray smiles contentedly.

Meander. Nestle. Grasp. Snip.

Over produced clusters, errant shoots, then cluster blocking leaves fall
at their old man's feet.

With harvest his thought, . . . Oneness blossoms again.

The vineyard in summer pictured above is in Maryland.

FERTILE RIDGE In Summer

A vineyard nourishes a woodland community.

Ripe jeweled clusters present sugars and siren flowery scents.

Pale green and brown, now, crunchy leaves smile in their delightful
accomplishments.

Molds cascade. Insects invade. Deer wander. All indulge in these row
upon row of bounty.

The alluring fruit shatter then fall from a nudge of a fawn.

Wasps search. Hornets buzz. Yellow jackets dart. Bumble bees devour.

All alight, examine, submerge, and gorge on the torrent of ripe and
over-ripe berries.

Robins glide. Cardinals swoop. Catbirds greet. Bluebirds caw. All feast
daily.

They strip one vine, then move to the next one, in avarian harmony.

Now, comes the winemaker. He snips. He collects. He buckets.

From this harvest of color, flavors, and aromas, he will make an
apparent

L i f e-f i x e r of S t r i f e.

I thought that you might enjoy Van Gogh's The Red Vineyards at Arles while we move towards autumn.

Abandoned Ridge In Autumn

Exhausted, drained, spent; a vineyard rests in the afternoon sun .

Petite, late season grape leaves glow with a delicate yellow green hue .

Row upon row of near leaf naked vines sigh after the harvest season .

Insects and an occasional bird scavenge the left behind, black, dried,
rotted clusters.

Winds complete the leaf stripping .

Grasses subside in their conquests .

The leisure season has arrived .

Contentment lures sleep .

Life giving sap descends into the earth .

Cool then brisk, chilling then freezing temperatures overtake the land .

A harried vineyard welcomes the neglect .

Another barren season approaches.

BARREN RIDGE in Winter

The wind seeps the landscape, subduing, bending, and bowing all in its
path.

The earth, cold and desolate, displays her row upon row of spent vines
as mating spiders in

disarray . Up hill they run leafless and barren . Sentry posts, gray and
black, run down the land.

A full moon reigns in a glimps of blue, though a seam in the
suppressing shroud.

A hawk circles for naught in a stripped land .

A hint of green in the grass soaked scape offers hope for life again .

The bald headed hillside is at peace, displaying a stark naked winter

The cold footed hill is a lifeless abandon orphan .

A resting sleeper awaits life.

Let's return to some of Monk's ballads as we imagine sipping wine at a vineyard.

Here is the ageless Barry Harris' version of "Ruby My Dear":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wakoQmVqTnI

Jason Moran et al play "Monk's Mood." For some reason, though, this video is audio only:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gy9oUZpWhF0

With a different group of musicians, Moran plays "Crepuscle with Nellie":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9LZ5kLZ3To

Horace Silver wrote "Nica's Dream," but I thought you'd enjoy Wes Montgomery's version:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZ0ybQnhsvc

Thursday, November 6, 2014

Bird Call Dance Hall....

This evening I'd like to post Ed Schelb's graphic poem "Bird Call Dance Hall," one of his Dogbelly poems and, as Ed notes, "a piece on nature poetry and mysticism—more savage than Clark’s music, though not his life, I think." Enjoy the union of words and images! This is a relatively long entry, but I realized that I wanted to present this poem as a whole.

At some point, I'd like to include a link to a video of Ed reading this poem with musical accompaniment, but in the meantime here are a few videos for you to listen to:

I am actually going to start with some songs by the Jayhawks, a group that Ed believes has "stolen Clark's sound."

Here is their "I'd Run Away": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4ioiFqPqnQ

"Miss Williams' Guitar" is also worth including: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N8zMGhSWffc

With the Beat imagery in Ed's poem and the 90s videos, I have to include 10,000 Maniacs' "Hey, Jack Kerouac": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qIUMV6BPmCE

Let's finish off with a few of Gene Clark's own songs:

"Life's Greatest Fool" is from No Other: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzvKS5QD2nU

This version of "Silver Raven" is from a gig in 1985: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X3kb-FB_08M

I also want to include "Out on the Side" from the Fantastic Expedition of Dillard & Clark: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=URFg_pg2GVY

Monday, November 3, 2014

Avis D. Matthews' Images and Jerry A. Scuderi's Words....

Walking around my neighborhood reminds me what a beautiful season fall is. This afternoon I would like to share with you some seasonal images and words. The images are scenes from Greenbelt Lake, which Avis D. Matthews took last fall. For those of you who are not from the DC Metro area, Greenbelt Lake is not that far from the city, Greenbelt being one end of our Metro. The words are poetry by Jerry A. Scuderi, a local poet. I wonder where his "Autumn Glow" is set!

Autumn Glow

Fire blazing fire light fire power fire might
invade the darkness shadow sights

Harvest moon high and bright haloed veiled escort the night
Enchanted tots furnace circle smoke and darkness black and purple

Naked branches rustled leaves haunted forest assaulting breeze
Awake the shadows invade the night ascending sparkles shining kites

Rosy cheeks hypnotized wonder stare glowing eyes
Roaring flames stars of dapple shouting snap pop and crackle

Autumn evening moving sky glowing coals enchant so high
Chill of beer soothe of wine lassie smiles suitor finds

Clanking sodas crunching chips autumn night not to miss
Table loaded blacken night hooded friends back in sight

Toasted mellows ummm let’s eat sticky mittens alluring treats
Dogs on sticks wood ablaze sleepy children eyes aglaze

Home in darkness sleep is waiting
Life is fleeting ambers fading

Jerry A. Scuderi
November 11, 2011

I also thought that I'd include Jerry's tribute to Janis Joplin, which kind of fits into the theme of the second contest -- and alludes to our upcoming spring contest honoring women in music.

Treble Goddess

Shimmer silk in blanket darkness ;
velvet tones seek grief to loose .
They siren tales of the heartless ;
a love’s exile sings the blues .

Glimmer rays flood the show girl .
Her life’s a muck ; so seeking lull .
Painted face framed by the lock curls
glares radiate from angelic dull .
Minstrel mannequin sing the blues .

Voice melodies of selfishness ;
screech sopranino of shattered heart .
Shielded tears yield their distress ;
senses sweat , stressed , then depart .

Glow image of surreal sorrow ;
bellow forth these tortured days .
Grasp your dreams though they are borrowed ;
wail , promote a staggered way .
Ceramic chagrin sing your blues .

Pour out your being of forced concessions ;
as Blank and Empties emit their stares .
Shout forth crystal soul’s confessions .
She’s open, tender , yet , life’s not there .
Treble goddess lives her blues .

Jerry A. Scuderi
September 28, 2014

We'll finish with some songs by Janis Joplin:

You may recognize "Ball and Chain": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5If816MhoU

I want to include "Maybe" from my favorite Janis Joplin album: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=caiBo_wTxrY

"To Love Somebody" is also from that same album: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fkGUt4QYc08

"Cry Baby" is from her last album, Pearl: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eDIaDS9HhMw

Enjoy!

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Tamara Safford's Visual Art

I've decided to switch things up this week with a visual entry although one could say that "Song of My Selfie" is the poem of the week. Boston artist Tamara Safford was kind enough to send me some of her work for display at The Song Is...

The first two paintings are from her recent trip to Rwanda. The other work below include a memory-collage of paint and photographs, a painting of her late cat Bean, a drawing, and a plexiglass work, also a memory-collage.

Let's include some music, too, for your listening pleasure:

The Byrds' "Boston" is here because...well, that is where Tamara is living now.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=293DwZDrpLo

Gene Clark's "The French Girl" fits nicely, too. Interestingly, he did *not* write this song, but Tyson and Fricker did. (Don't believe what you see on Metro Lyrics!!)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=04iz5BQBdHk

The Byrds' "Set You Free This Time," written by Clark, has been going through my head.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9QSTy3fkWSA

I also wanted to include "Strength of Strings" and "Lady of the North" from No Other.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H9RyvUGJ5Wc

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDAYw-sWVg0

The picture below is in place of a biography of words!

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Song of My Selfie

This Thursday I will be posting Tamara Safford's art, but today I thought I'd include this satirical extra by Ethan Goffman. Enjoy!

Song of My Selfie

(Walt Whitman updated for the 21^st Century)

I celebrate myself and Google myself

and what I become you shall read about

Every day on my Facebook page

I have heard what the bloggers were blogging, the blogs of how my side is right and yours

Is narrow minded socialist Nazis

Loafe with me on the virtual grass

Be intoxicated by the grass, not of the ‘60s but of the computer age

Get high, not on mountains, but on photos of mountains

With stimulating background music

A child said what is the virtual grass, summoning it with a click of the mouse

How could I answer the child? I did not know any more than he.

I guess it must be the stuff created by the Asian IT people

Who studied math and engineering and higher philosophies

than are found on a million Facebook pages

Every image dredged up by me

From the unspoken depths of the internet

Is hearty and clear and pure and good

Not an inch or a half an inch is vile

For the human body is, indeed, beautiful

Though I erase it quickly should someone else walk into the room

I peruse manifold objects with minimal Google terms

And every one good, each perfect in the instant of its recreation and dissolution

At my whim, I am a virtual god and am good in each of my downloads

Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess

The secrets of my day in brazen detail

When I awoke, who I had lunch with, what convenience food I am having for dinner

A smiling photo of me and my lunch companion

A photo of my cat, asleep on the couch

What causes I support, what petitions I have taken 10 seconds to sign

A photo of me with the cat on my lap

What I think of the latest pop sensation

What I thought of the previous pop sensation

A photo of my cat, asleep on the bed

Am I petty and redundant?

Very well, then, I’m petty and redundant.

I am small, I contain platitudes

For your listening pleasure, the poet has recommended these tracks, starting with Madonna's "Material Girl," moving to Nellie McKay singing "It's a Pose" on Conan O'Brien's show, and finishing with some Malcolm Daiglish, whom he finds to be Whitmanesque.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DNSUOFgj97M

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eaEpPtJ_900
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qmu3CpNAaKQ
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JfxcKK9bvaw

Below is a picture of my cats. You recognize Thelma; the calico is Callie.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Words and Images for the Fall

My friend and teacher Joan Dobbie has been wading through quite a few emails from me about The Song Is.. and its various contests. She finally sent me a poem from her book Woodstock Baby: Made in Boston. The formatting for this poem was tricky to do on Blogger, but I hope that you enjoy its twists and turns. In more ways than one, it is a moving poem.

TRIPPING WITH RYAN
AT THE BOSTON TEA PARTY LISTENING TO THE STEVIE MILLER BAND
Joan Dobbie (C) 1988-2004

MUSIC
throbbing in the skin
of the instruments
pulsing
in the breath
of our vision
Moving in the flesh
of our hands
where we touch
pink on pink
neon
reflected
In the river
MUSIC
that Moves
like the life
underwater
MUSIC
that bites in
the flesh
of our brain
licks at
the rough plaster walls
of this room
slides over arches
Into caverns
flutters
in the pungent strobe dark
of the air
where we sit
eye to eye
tongue to tongue
Everything
is breathing
MUSIC
underfoot
in our bones
in the folds
of our heart
MUSIC
is alive
is a woman
She is
twitching
yawning
stretching
rising
to fill the soft swollen
bed
of my groin
She is love
He is here

I am water

Joan also sent me an image of a word art picture poem, which she had created at a recent conference. This poem captures the 1960's creative spirit and blurring of boundaries when musicians were poets and poets were artists and...

Joan's Bio

Joan (Thaler) Dobbie writes, sculpts and teaches yoga, in Eugene, Oregon. She has two grown children and six rapidly growing grandchildren, all of them much too far away... She has a 1988 MFA in Creative Writing from the U of O. For the past thirty years she's published, taught and promoted poetry. Most recently she co- edited BEFORE THERE IS NOWHERE TO STAND, Palestine/Israel, Poets Respond to the Struggle (Lost Horse Press, 2012) and THE MANY FACES OF HATHA YOGA (KENDALL/HUNT 2012-2013.)

And, yes, she did attend the original Woodstock and did live in the Boston/Cambridge Mass. area between the years of 1969 and 1974. It is from her real life experiences that these poems emerged, around fifteen years after she left Boston, finally to find themselves in print twenty five years after that!

Woodstock Baby is available through The Unforgettable Press: http://theunforgettablespress.blogspot.com/