i read the news today – oh boy about a lucky man who left this life i bowed and wept and clenched my fists and asked why him, not i the story read plain and clear a heart just stopped keeping pace a last breath seeped from drying lips a lucky man left the race so sad, so many will surely find this tale of life that ceased so blind, so many says i that fail to find the peace too young, too soon, too loved they say his life now, unfulfilled as if this life were one thing more than pain for those here, still
my ultimate goal, his holy face to see as i stand before him, nothing more than just me to delight in the radiant love from his eyes as he gazes on me to fold into the protective strength of his arms as he embraces me to cherish the music in his splendid voice as he speaks to me welcome home my child, with whom i am well pleased
I love music; all kinds of music. I know many say this but I couldn’t be more sincere. From Stravinsky to Hank Williams Sr to Hendrix. From Ray LaMontagne to Sam Cook to Sinatra to Alice Cooper to Merle Haggard – if it’s good, I want to hear it. I keep lots of music on-hand. When the mood strikes, eh? Like many, I have massive amounts of old classic rock. Tons of ELP and T-Rex. Pink Floyd is actually my all-time favorite band for too many reasons. A fact that might make the following seem a bit odd to other music nerds.
I possess exactly 4 Beach Boys songs. 3 for no particular reason except they were on someone’s player at some point in time and we did a swap. The only Beach Boys song I wanted was My Room because … well, it’s My Room. Love the harmonies. I guess I’ve always just thought of the Beach Boys as that band; the pop harmony guys. A group of utterly average voices that sounded otherworldly in chorus. Sadly, I just held the view that if you’ve heard any Beach Boys song – right – heard’em all. I’ve heard a million people say how great a particular Beach Boys album was. Literally – from Paul McCartney saying it was the inspiration for Sgt Pepper’s to artist-after-artist saying it was a solitary influence in their musical development and direction. Why these declarations never stirred me to give this album a listen is a bit beyond me. I suppose it speaks to how deeply entrenched my perspective was about the Beach Boys. Surfin’ / car tunes in harmony and I never cared much for surfin’ / car tunes.
So I finally sat down to listen to this album. The Beach Boys Pet Sounds. What can I say that doesn’t sound completely trite, at this point. The album is only a half-century old and I’ve never bothered to see if there was more to it than my preconceived notions. It’s everything I love most in a good album. It is NOT a collection of good songs. It’s a story. Take it however you wish – it is a journey. One of the reasons Pink Floyd is my favorite band. I’ve rarely wanted to hear a Pink Floyd song, as much as I wanted to hear the entire album. Hearing Money on the radio is fine but it only makes me want to hear the wholeDark Sidealbum and take that journey. That wonderful adventure of thought that one cannot help but embark on with such music. Pet Sounds is that adventure – that ‘trip’.
Speaking of Ray LaMontagne – if you’ve not heard his latest album Super Nova – it’s a monumental throw-back to the very same full-music production style, sound and concept as albums like Pet Sounds. If you could wrap up that early period of pre-progressive sound you would have Super Nova. Like Pet Sounds … it’s awesome!
ruber is rojo, violaceus is blue ooowww, says the husky – the cow says moooo midnight sudoku, cuddles and fights whispered secrets shared in the night heliotropium is red, heliotropium is blue i never imagined a wonder like you the goober you are – the goofy you speak thou art the very soul that i seek
there in hand, on the end of my arm capturing my spark and charm my trusty camera snaps a blink just as i smile and wink clickity, click – aim and shoot gosh i always look so cute fingers tremble, aim and squeeze adoring masses sure to please i rush to update every page notices go out in haste a new selfie there to see yours truly – come see me
i see me, you see me we can all delight in me oh how happy all must be i see, you see, we see me
oh the bliss with each new post strange that i should be the host why don’t others market me market me for all to see bold and bright, i cast my smile for others get to see my smile oh how blessed the eyes that see me, myself and me
common, average, all-the-same fearful, timid, tepid and tame colorless, odorless, mild and dull languid, lifeless, void and null aspire to the wretched brackish abyss milquetoast moribund nothingness middleton middlesome middle-of-road a life amid middles, poured from a mold wade in shallow suburban enclaves sleep in fields of temperate safe sure to find peace, secure in your rest nestled there in your moderate nest secure from different, your sameness assured be prudent and watchful for change is sure uniqueness, an evil sly and covert be vigilant mindful and ever alert for difference lurks not far from your door knocking – beseeching you, open for more hold fast to your passive wavering heart lest cracks in your apathy weaken your guard impassioned indifference lukewarm and bland run-of-mill fare for also-rans plastic, vapid, obtuse and opaque ambivalent, stoic, flaccid and fake normalcy knows majority’s right found amidst the black and white be normal – be nothing and heed my words normalcy always travels in herds
prompts to love one and all pronounced, the lean since the fall from adam and eve, each woman and man from every head and heart and hand so much to fill my heart and head it’s all been said it’s all been said
solomon wrote so long, ago all we need to know – we know advance and grow, a collective feign all that has been will be again so much to speak, silence instead it’s all been said it’s all been said …
My relationships with a number of other Christians have been increasingly tested and strained. Where I remain wholly devoted to God through Christ, as my Savior; I have joyfully sought to dismiss and move beyond those elements of my faith that were nothing more than dysfunctional religion. The last 7 years have been a shaking out of so many metaphorical prayer rugs in my life to remove the spiritual dust and plasticity that can settle on one’s faith. This has not always been embraced by other believers where they believed instead that I wasn’t being the ‘good Christian’ they deemed I should be – and specifically how they deemed I should be. I have thus, spent years tasting too many experiences of spiritual condemnation and judgment from the badge-wearing legalistic bat-swingers. I have only recently stopped doing something I have done my entire life. I’ve stopped going to church. Where I long for genuine fellowship with other believers, I can no longer bear to suffer through what is little more than a period of religious observance; including ‘thanks’ to the soul that brought the pecan brownies and the reminder to give generously, as is the will of God. The adage “What Would Jesus Do” that was so popular some years back makes me wince to contemplate, today; as I don’t think many in church would care. I just know I can’t stand it any longer – yet, the scripture of Hebrews 10:25 burns in my mind and heart.
I pray for God to move among his people – beginning with me.
the sun arose, as did i birthed anew i breathed a sigh filled with want and want my quest passions burned within my breast truth to find, love to know seek the good of life to grow tolls were taken with each test being weary, i would rest
hints of wonder met with time hope of good to grow, sublime sweetness tasted, pure and blessed splendid dreams to be suppressed pay and pay and pay more, still moved to stand through prayer and will pushed, punched, prodded and pressed being weary, i would rest
fellow travelers met with miles extended selves with broadened smiles corrupt, the hands that feign caress will to steal and dreams molest tempt my heart to grow askew tomorrow’s promise awaits my view searching takes me east and west being weary, i would rest
there waits a day i’ve yet to meet this day-of-days to surely greet my sojourn here will end, as guest the breath he lent, he’ll surely wrest i’ve lived to long to meet this day aware now, of all i pray valleys long with peaks to crest being weary – i will rest