Definition # 102 Music

Cafe Do Not Cry

Cafe Do Not Cry


by Anne Porter

When I was a child
I once sat sobbing on the floor
Beside my mother’s piano
As she played and sang
For there was in her singing
A shy yet solemn glory
My smallness could not hold

And when I was asked
Why I was crying
I had no words for it
I only shook my head
And went on crying

Why is it that music
At its most beautiful
Opens a wound in us
An ache a desolation
Deep as a homesickness
For some far-off
And half-forgotten country

I’ve never understood
Why this is so

But there’s an ancient legend
From the other side of the world
That gives away the secret
Of this mysterious sorrow
For centuries on centuries
We have been wandering
But we were made for Paradise
As deer for the forest

And when music comes to us
With its heavenly beauty
It brings us desolation
For when we hear it
We half remember
That lost native country

We dimly remember the fields
Their fragrant windswept clover
The birdsongs in the orchards
The wild white violets in the moss
By the transparent streams

And shining at the heart of it
Is the longed-for beauty
Of the One who waits for us
Who will always wait for us
In those radiant meadows

Yet also came to live with us
And wanders where we wander.

“Music” by Anne Porter, from Living Things. © Zoland Books, 2006. Reprinted with permission.

Reggae Convergence

Ziggy Marley sings for Redemption

Ziggy Marley
sings for Redemption

My life became reggae
when the Cable tech came with his Jamaican helpfulness
when I danced to Reggae music with my Alzheimer’s friend
when The Netflix BBC Show was about Jamaican voodoo protection
when my e-friend, FrizzText, posted the music of Bob Marley and son.

Some of this came in the cloud,
some in human footprints.
Some of this moved our feet:
All of this was fine art,
rocky shaking redemption!

Dog Day Afternoon

Dog-Dip in Pool

Dog-Dip in Pool

Dog Ladder on Dog Day Afternoon

Dog Ladder on Dog Day Afternoon

No rocking required: heartbeat enough

No rocking required:
heartbeat enough

Let's find seashells again

Let’s find seashells again

Waiting Patiently

Waiting Patiently



on the move

on the move

If only plugs could speak…

photo by way of frizztext

photo by way of frizztext

“plug me in!”
he’d shout

cuddle me in
to power and heat

listen to the tunes
feel the waves

find rest
your conduit

link to the stars
tide of the moon

your energy key.

I didn’t ask for this…

I didn't ask for this box...

I didn’t ask for this box…

I didn’t ask for this box…
I didn’t ask for this…
I didn’t ask for…
I didn’t ask …
I didn’t…
I …

I thank…
I thank you…
I thank you for…
I thank you for this…
I thank you for this gift…

Children Without TV #14 Lumber Jacks

Wood Haulers House Warmers Lumber Jacks

Wood Haulers
House Warmers
Lumber Jacks

Know about chain saws,
truck beds, cabs, tire treads, haul
wood for heat/bike ramps!

Throw a Ball; Catch a Ball

photo by Frizztext

photo by Frizztext

Jules Feiffer says he was a failure as a child because he could neither throw or catch a ball. He couldn’t wait to grow up.(and draw cartoons)

And here is Frizztext’s “B” Poem, using ball, of course:
B is for Ball
Bounced By a child
Blue as the heart
whose love has run wild
Blacklisted and Broken
writ in Blank verse
Bloodied or Blooming
a wound that we nurse
Blasphemed in Bondage
Bankrupt of Bliss
all can Be cured
with just one

By FrizzText


Frizztext wears a colander

Frizztext wears a colander

Hard-hat, sieve, halo,
solidarity atop
open mind and heart!

Nurture’s Fruit

Owen in 1984

Owen in 1984

Owen in 2007

Owen in 2007

grafted for optimum growth=
divinity’s fruit!

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