there'd be days

oh my mama told me
there'd be days like this

ending Boston Legal tonite..

tonight's lines

____________

They Don't Love You Like We Do

and, Will the last one to leave please turn out the lights?

lord, I'm coming home

I've been fighting the devil too long. Lord, I'm coming home.
On the sidewalks of Savannah There's an old man ragged and blind He don't beg, an' he don't steal And he don't fool with wine With an old guitar in his wrinkled hands A thousand songs in his mind You can't keep your heart from loving The song man when you hear him cry...
Song Man, one song for a dime
I got songs that'll make ya happy
And songs that'll make ya cry
I got a special poor man's blues
Two for the price of one
It won't cost you a thing to hear me
sing my favorite gospel song....
'Lord, I'm comin' home, Lord I'm comin' home
I've been a fightin'the devil too long
Lord I'm comin' home'

dulcimer

dulcimer
gossamer
thread
web
child
blue
metal

always, thomas stearns

For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conceptionAnd the creationBetween the emotionAnd the responseFalls the Shadow
Life is very long
Between the desireAnd the spasmBetween the potencyAnd the existenceBetween the essenceAnd thedescentFalls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine isLife isFor Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

like you were walking into

You’re So Vain (carly simon)
You walked into the party like you were walking onto a yachtYour hat strategically dipped below one eyeYour scarf it was apricotYou had one eye on the mirror as you watched yourself gavotteAnd all the girls dreamed that they’d be your partnerThey’d be your partner, and...
You’re so vain, you probably think this song is about youYou’re so vain, I’ll bet you think this song is about youDon’t you? don’t you?
You had me several years ago when I was still quite naiveWell you said that we made such a pretty pairAnd that you would never leaveBut you gave away the things you loved and one of them was meI had some dreams, they were clouds in my coffeeClouds in my coffee, and...
You’re so vain, you probably think this song is about youYou’re so vain, I’ll bet you think this song is about youDon’t you? don’t you?
Well I hear you went up to saratoga and your horse naturally wonThen you flew your lear jet up to nova scotiaTo see the total eclipse of the sunWell you’re where you should be all the timeAnd when you’re not you’re withSome underworld spy or the wife of a close friendWife of a close friend, and...


and from where? 'you're-so-far-gone' light dd d d
I've had a very short bit of some other song in my mind...especially when waking up - I wish I cld place it
the bit has the lyrics "you're so far gone" female voice, light steppy notes
...it's like a song that I know in another world, where I go when I sleep and here I can't find it

conference of birds

Thirty birds set out on a perilous journey to reach the Mighty Simurgh, whose name means thirty birds.

The Conference of Birds is the most widely known and influential work of Farid Ud-Din Attar, a twelfth-century Persian poet and mystic of the school of Islamic mysticism known as Sufism. When all the birds of the world convene and determine that they lack a king, one bird steps forward and offers to lead them to a great and mighty monarch. Initially excited, each bird falters in turn, whereupon the leader admonishes them with well-targeted parables. These pithy tales are the delight of this 4,500-line poem, translated deftly into rhymed couplets: What is your excuse for not seeking God? Your life is fine already?...
- Attar is indeed good literature, and Mr. Davis' translation is simple and balanced, with a feeling of intimacy that mirrors Attar's style. It is never overworked or sentimental - if you're expecting Fitzgerald's Khayyam you'll be disappointed. good. but oh: different Fitzgerald - E. not Robert. still, good: simple, balanced, intimate, not overworked sentimental.

spicer

the real muse says talk all you want, baby, but then let's go to bed.

look up to

she's holding hands with someone
twice her height

again

samuel

sugar water

at the beach with the smiths. whitney and I making ice tea at a time when I didn't know that the water must be hot...
(and playing cards at nite -- conferencing low behind the counter -- whitney's face big in mine: let's bluff)

shadow love

"I love three things. I love a dream of love I once had, I love you, and I love this patch of earth."
"And which do you love best?"
"The dream."
Knut Hamsun, Pan.

epigram to The Wild Girl: The Notebooks of Ned Giles, 1932 - Apr06 by Jim Fergus (among galleys ~)

slow movement

solo dance by a male dancer... butoh performance of over an hour: He began reclining and later stood but the sequence of movements altogether was so slow you almost never perceived him as moving at all. -nada gordon Oct23 in Swoon

"Slow-ow-ow-ow Love. So much better when we take it easy."
-omiewise, lovely. linking on metachat to 639-Year Concert Lets Loose 2nd Chord

dance

when a dancer comes on stage, he is not only what the choreographer has written. he has with him all the decisions he has made in life. each time, he has chosen, and in what he is onstage you see the result of those choices. exceptional dancers know who they are and they show this to you, willingly. ~Mikhail Baryshnikov, quoted in Nyer aricle re solo-dancer-and-choreographers Sally Silvers and Teresa De Keersmaeker.

come to

you come to me with kisses. and you come to me with -

you come home late and you come home early
you come home big when you're feeling small
you come home straight and you come home curly
sometimes you don't come home at all.
so what in the world's come over you
and what in heaven's name have you done
you've broken the speed of the sound of loneliness
you're out there running just to be on the run. -nanci griffith (john prine)

it is a world but there's another.
I awoke far on. -edwin muir, labyrinth.

bird song

and dread.
a memory?

as little green

the heater is warming.
or it is not.
maro is here.
or is not.

sunday

...the great catastrophe
the day is like wide water, without sound (Wallace Stevens).

I attend to my work and I love it.
but today the languor of composition disheartens.
The day has affected me - its face is deepening dark (Cavafy).

there's something in a Sunday
makes a body feel alone- (Kris Kristofferson - Johnny Cash).

sunday is sposed to be the day - for kickin off your shoes
so how come that's the day-- I always get the blues.
and I can't seem to make it through Sunday-- (Lucinda Williams).

I like cream in my coffee. I like to sleep late on Sunday.
and nobody knows me - like my baby.
I like cream in my coffee, and I hate to be alone on Sunday-
and nobody knows me like my baby (Lyle Lovett).

source

you're reading a book and you make some notes in the margin -- you say things similar, more or less of your own. this goes on for days.
one day, you open the book to a new page and there in the book's text are sentences that you have written. before, already. or not? maybe, it must be, you had already read this page and then you wrote it down. no. the footnote in the book's text credits you.
these are the sentences you wrote in the margins. flip back and see.

*this goes on for days - echoing menagerie of course

beginnings

these things never happened and are always.

calasso, echo after echo. dlww 1/15.

for all that

_
It is easy to see the beginnings of things, and harder to see the ends.
Didion: Goodbye to-


We remember our own lives, Schopenhauer wrote somewhere, a little better than we do a novel we once read.

Platform by MICHEL HOUELLEBECQ on Page 130

On se souvient de sa propre vie, écrit Schopenhauer, un peu plus que d'un roman qu'on aurait lu par le passé. Oui, c'est cela : un peu plus seulement.
Yes, there it is: a little more only.
not That's about right: a little, no more.