Saturday, July 29, 2006
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Yes, Rate PG-Adult Comics; that’s how I dub horoscopes. Linguistic textual communication, prearranged to encompass a massive realm of possible results. Nonetheless; some astrologicalscopes are amusing. Others admittedly inspire me. For example; Free Will Astrology by Rob Brezsny :
“Kathleen Raine (1908-2003) was a brilliant Cambridge-educated scholar and poet who won numerous awards for her poetry in the U.K. and France. Many of her colleagues were towering intellectuals, but she herself wanted "to get away from the Sherlock Holmes misconception that everything has a rational explanation." She gravitated instead toward "the sacred springs of life, which are the imagination and the heart." She's your role model right now, Gemini. I hope she'll inspire you to apply all of your high-powered ingenuity to an exploration of soul-awakening mysteries that can't be encapsulated with neat analyses. It's a perfect moment for you to celebrate the indescribable bounty of fertile chaos.”
Needless to say; with search engines wordily fueled, out amidst the open www - commenced the exploration for this renowned Lady!
“Kathleen Raine was born in London in 1908. Began to seriously write toward her late twenties, and by 1943 she had published her first collection of poetry Stone and Flower, which was illustrated by Barbara Hepworth. Her autobiography was out in 1977. Four years later Raine had founded her own magazine, called Temenos, to help articulate her views. Raine went on to win several awards, including the Harriet Monroe Prize, Edna St. Vincent Millay Prize from the American Poetry Society, and the Queens Gold Medal for Poetry in 1992. In 2000, she was made a Commander of the British Empire. ..” ~ PoemHunter.com
“Kathleen Raine (1908-2003) was the author of twelve books of poetry, four of autobiography, and much scholarly work, particularly on Blake and Yeats, which prove her transcendent understanding of the art of poetry, and the art of living.” ~ The Poetry Archive
The following poem is from famouspoetsandpoems
Worry About Money by Kathleen Raine
Wearing worry about money like a hair shirt
I lie down in my bed and wrestle with my angel.
My bank-manager could not sanction my continuance for another day
But life itself wakes me each morning, and love
Urges me to give although I have no money
In the bank at this moment, and ought properly
To cease to exist in a world where poverty
Is a shameful and ridiculous offence.
Having no one to advise me, I open the Bible
And shut my eyes and put my finger on a text
And read that the widow with the young son
Must give first to the prophetic genius
From the little there is in the bin of flour and the cruse of oil.
Obituary of Kathleen Raine by Janet Watts:
“When asked how she wished people to remember her, Kathleen Raine said she would rather they didn't. Or that Blake's words be said of her: "That in time of trouble, I kept the divine vision". Better to be a sprat in that "true ocean", she believed, than a big fish in a literary rock pool.”
Meanwhile, my current adult comic strip from Free Will Astrology states:
“In their article "Most Popular Myths in Science", editors at LiveScience.com analyzed ideas that are dear to conventional wisdom. They debunked the notions that lightning never strikes twice in the same place, that humans only use ten percent of their brains, and that it's safe to eat food that has been on the floor for less than five seconds. But they affirmed certain other "myths." A falling cat does pretty much always land on its feet, they found. Yawning is indeed contagious. Eating two poppy seed bagels can produce a positive result for opiates on a drug test. I bring this up, Gemini, as a prod to get you to take inventory of your own opinions, assumptions, and storylines. This is a perfect moment to not just question your beliefs, but to give them the third degree.”
Therefore, despite curiosity peaked; I should further explore - in general - her scholarly work, before I form or declare any opinions. Her other writings such as ALL ROADS LEAD TO INDIA . However; if any Reader is familiar with the Author - Kathleen Raine, we gladly welcome 'your' comments!
“Kathleen Raine (1908-2003) was a brilliant Cambridge-educated scholar and poet who won numerous awards for her poetry in the U.K. and France. Many of her colleagues were towering intellectuals, but she herself wanted "to get away from the Sherlock Holmes misconception that everything has a rational explanation." She gravitated instead toward "the sacred springs of life, which are the imagination and the heart." She's your role model right now, Gemini. I hope she'll inspire you to apply all of your high-powered ingenuity to an exploration of soul-awakening mysteries that can't be encapsulated with neat analyses. It's a perfect moment for you to celebrate the indescribable bounty of fertile chaos.”
Needless to say; with search engines wordily fueled, out amidst the open www - commenced the exploration for this renowned Lady!
“Kathleen Raine was born in London in 1908. Began to seriously write toward her late twenties, and by 1943 she had published her first collection of poetry Stone and Flower, which was illustrated by Barbara Hepworth. Her autobiography was out in 1977. Four years later Raine had founded her own magazine, called Temenos, to help articulate her views. Raine went on to win several awards, including the Harriet Monroe Prize, Edna St. Vincent Millay Prize from the American Poetry Society, and the Queens Gold Medal for Poetry in 1992. In 2000, she was made a Commander of the British Empire. ..” ~ PoemHunter.com
“Kathleen Raine (1908-2003) was the author of twelve books of poetry, four of autobiography, and much scholarly work, particularly on Blake and Yeats, which prove her transcendent understanding of the art of poetry, and the art of living.” ~ The Poetry Archive
The following poem is from famouspoetsandpoems
Worry About Money by Kathleen Raine
Wearing worry about money like a hair shirt
I lie down in my bed and wrestle with my angel.
My bank-manager could not sanction my continuance for another day
But life itself wakes me each morning, and love
Urges me to give although I have no money
In the bank at this moment, and ought properly
To cease to exist in a world where poverty
Is a shameful and ridiculous offence.
Having no one to advise me, I open the Bible
And shut my eyes and put my finger on a text
And read that the widow with the young son
Must give first to the prophetic genius
From the little there is in the bin of flour and the cruse of oil.
Obituary of Kathleen Raine by Janet Watts:
“When asked how she wished people to remember her, Kathleen Raine said she would rather they didn't. Or that Blake's words be said of her: "That in time of trouble, I kept the divine vision". Better to be a sprat in that "true ocean", she believed, than a big fish in a literary rock pool.”
Meanwhile, my current adult comic strip from Free Will Astrology states:
“In their article "Most Popular Myths in Science", editors at LiveScience.com analyzed ideas that are dear to conventional wisdom. They debunked the notions that lightning never strikes twice in the same place, that humans only use ten percent of their brains, and that it's safe to eat food that has been on the floor for less than five seconds. But they affirmed certain other "myths." A falling cat does pretty much always land on its feet, they found. Yawning is indeed contagious. Eating two poppy seed bagels can produce a positive result for opiates on a drug test. I bring this up, Gemini, as a prod to get you to take inventory of your own opinions, assumptions, and storylines. This is a perfect moment to not just question your beliefs, but to give them the third degree.”
Therefore, despite curiosity peaked; I should further explore - in general - her scholarly work, before I form or declare any opinions. Her other writings such as ALL ROADS LEAD TO INDIA . However; if any Reader is familiar with the Author - Kathleen Raine, we gladly welcome 'your' comments!
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Another awe I have for D. G. is his talented poetic penmanship! With permission, I proudly share two of his poems:
Sinner
Sad is the sinner
that walks on bare feet
Empty stomach and
nothing to eat.
Heart of hate that
use to be free
One bad move, it could have been
you or me!
No more trust
or a hand of a friend
More crooked roads
just around the bend.
Nothing again will ever
be as right,
As that of a sinner
alone in the night.
So think again before
you stray too far left or right
You may become one who walks
alone in the night.
~D. G.
A Story of Life
With a floursack for a coat
and newspapers in his shoes,
the drunk left the old house
in search for some booze.
There was a cold wind cutting
down the alley like a knife
A man alone, without a friend,
without a wife.
Would this be the night
his life would come to end?
Would he die alone in the alleyway
without a friend?
The pains grew and his body cried out
in the freezing cold
for a bottle of cheap wine,
he would surely sell his soul.
There was nothing but a cold air
pushed by the bitter wind
He wanted a warm place to sit
and a stiff drink of gin.
The Devil came to take him
away at the dawn,
only to find an angel had come
and both were long gone!
~D. G.
Sinner
Sad is the sinner
that walks on bare feet
Empty stomach and
nothing to eat.
Heart of hate that
use to be free
One bad move, it could have been
you or me!
No more trust
or a hand of a friend
More crooked roads
just around the bend.
Nothing again will ever
be as right,
As that of a sinner
alone in the night.
So think again before
you stray too far left or right
You may become one who walks
alone in the night.
~D. G.
A Story of Life
With a floursack for a coat
and newspapers in his shoes,
the drunk left the old house
in search for some booze.
There was a cold wind cutting
down the alley like a knife
A man alone, without a friend,
without a wife.
Would this be the night
his life would come to end?
Would he die alone in the alleyway
without a friend?
The pains grew and his body cried out
in the freezing cold
for a bottle of cheap wine,
he would surely sell his soul.
There was nothing but a cold air
pushed by the bitter wind
He wanted a warm place to sit
and a stiff drink of gin.
The Devil came to take him
away at the dawn,
only to find an angel had come
and both were long gone!
~D. G.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
To date, this Blog has presented imaginative control, added some humor to every day chores, and punned around with words on subjects from the Blues to Toast. This is because many musical compositions, songs, poems… have various articulated sentiments. Therefore; today I would like to talk about admiration. For everybody, undoubtedly there is someone to admire; rather this person be an Athlete, a Singer, an Author, or yourself. Likewise; you are tremendously Blessed - if the individual you have a high regard for, is also a Friend. For:
It can never be bought or borrowed or sold
A gift to be cherished,
True friendship is a treasure beyond compare
~author unknown
I am grateful to have this in my life. His name is D. G. Age to date, 75. Children: None. Race – irrelevant. His humor - a bonus! For example, he would take a ‘Beware of DOG’ sign and cross out the O. Yea, Beware of D. G.; Mister Lamb who would generously give anyone the wool from his last sweater.
In addition to Admiration, Friendship – if we are fortunate; into most hearts, there happens a ‘Once Upon a Time’, one True Love. And so it was for D. G. Him of youth, whence his hair glistened with color. The luck lady, bursting with youthful potentials. Though sadly; before womanhood could fully blossom or age naturally dye the hair, she died in a car crash. Understandably; D. G. would never love another, as he loved her. Later, various relationships came – went for him. Once a Girlfriend gave D. G. an alternative, ‘either your dogs go or I’. To date; D. G. remains a happily devoted Bachelor, always seen with a dog. The animal type that is, mutty and raggedy as himself. For many a day, D. G. will not a shave or bathe. His age now has turned those days into weeks.
As his Friend, I use to try and at least help keep his place clean. That was until, the fleas and roaches won. D. G. would bomb, spray… still the creepy crawlers sustained. Having either became insecticide resistant or fervent. Might this be from the steady crumbs, left out food, unkempt- unwashed pets…? D. G. consistently, would not clean up! Hello, even Bachelors can utilize a broom and soap.
Over the years; I naturally worried about his frail, slowly aging self. It had been nearly 25 years since he last agreed to visit a Doctor. For that reason; betweenst our phone calls, I periodically stopped by to check on D. G. There he was – characteristically unshaven, grubby. The usual odor from his residence reeked with extreme fetid smells. This day he sat, flicking some cockroaches inside an encrusted soup can. Had these infectious insects become his Friends? Ultimately I realized, D. G. was beyond help. For, “One can not help those whom do not want help”. ‘One can’t help those whom won’t help themselves first’. Nonetheless, my concern for him consumed my imagination. Fear, learning he died alone, roaches feasting on his remains. Like the horror story we hear about the Old Lady with numerous cats. She died alone, her carcass a banquet for the felines.
Over the years, no one could convince D. G. to improve himself or his residential conditions. Now he is greatly older and often I want to call the ‘Elderly Abuse line. Report him for ill-treatment of self. By chance, this year the health department intervened. D. G. was evicted from the rented dwelling. Sadly, he chose to move into a run–down, moreover crime ridden neighborhood. (Whose population will certainly intensify for lack of roach motels). Of course his dog resides with him! In fact, I spoke to D. G. the other day; asked why he didn’t enter an ‘Assisted Living’ place as we discussed. His answer, “I may be old, but I’m not stupid”. His new Neighbors are caring. However they as well; can not talk, hard-headed D. G. into going to a Doctor. Soon to be 76, trouble walking, blind in one eye, a hack- cough, D. G. has the nerve to tell me he is having trouble holding his urine.
Nevertheless; he is a person to be admired. Aside from his humor, despite his unhygienic ethics, there is a man with compelling principles. Values he nonchalantly, taught me. Standards that continue to guide me, like a Lighthouse in the dark. A constant compass point in my life. Many of us have at least one regret, we wish we could back and change. For D. G., his remorse came during his teenage time. At the beach - underneath a viaduct he strolled. Where two youngsters were raping a 16 year old, wheel chaired girl from his school. D. G. said he went initially to help her. Instead, in the process he got excited. End of story. Kids will be kids, has never been his slogan or excuse. The essential factor prevails; D. G. is genuinely remorseful for his involvement. While on the subject, some reason or the other; I asked D. G. his opinion concerning molestation. To this day, I clearly recall what he said; “Child molesters steal fruit before ripeness, stripping more than the flesh, they forever shred their victims childhood.”
The finest lesson I gather from D. G. is ‘the moment of truth’. He told how during his early years of bar hopping, while sitting on a bar stool - a voice inside him spoke, “You can either sit here until you become an alcoholic or you can get up, do something with your life”. D. G. has not been in a bar since. Most people see pink elephants, D. G. heard a voice. This voice he says is the moment of truth that speaks to everyone sometime in their life. You can listen to the voice or do nothing.
Yes, most people admire someone. However; if that person is additionally your Friend, wow! What a gem, what a treasure. For me, that person is D. G. ‘Warts and all’; nevertheless to me, he is a person to be admired, he is a Friend. And yes, I am Blessed to know him.
*Remember, you can comment anonymously; after all I go by the name Nom de plume ‘The Poetress’. Sure we ask for that crazy verification to be typed in, but that’s just to keep the ‘tin man’ away. So:
Whom do you admire? Is that person a Friend? What is your worst regret?
It can never be bought or borrowed or sold
A gift to be cherished,
True friendship is a treasure beyond compare
~author unknown
I am grateful to have this in my life. His name is D. G. Age to date, 75. Children: None. Race – irrelevant. His humor - a bonus! For example, he would take a ‘Beware of DOG’ sign and cross out the O. Yea, Beware of D. G.; Mister Lamb who would generously give anyone the wool from his last sweater.
In addition to Admiration, Friendship – if we are fortunate; into most hearts, there happens a ‘Once Upon a Time’, one True Love. And so it was for D. G. Him of youth, whence his hair glistened with color. The luck lady, bursting with youthful potentials. Though sadly; before womanhood could fully blossom or age naturally dye the hair, she died in a car crash. Understandably; D. G. would never love another, as he loved her. Later, various relationships came – went for him. Once a Girlfriend gave D. G. an alternative, ‘either your dogs go or I’. To date; D. G. remains a happily devoted Bachelor, always seen with a dog. The animal type that is, mutty and raggedy as himself. For many a day, D. G. will not a shave or bathe. His age now has turned those days into weeks.
As his Friend, I use to try and at least help keep his place clean. That was until, the fleas and roaches won. D. G. would bomb, spray… still the creepy crawlers sustained. Having either became insecticide resistant or fervent. Might this be from the steady crumbs, left out food, unkempt- unwashed pets…? D. G. consistently, would not clean up! Hello, even Bachelors can utilize a broom and soap.
Over the years; I naturally worried about his frail, slowly aging self. It had been nearly 25 years since he last agreed to visit a Doctor. For that reason; betweenst our phone calls, I periodically stopped by to check on D. G. There he was – characteristically unshaven, grubby. The usual odor from his residence reeked with extreme fetid smells. This day he sat, flicking some cockroaches inside an encrusted soup can. Had these infectious insects become his Friends? Ultimately I realized, D. G. was beyond help. For, “One can not help those whom do not want help”. ‘One can’t help those whom won’t help themselves first’. Nonetheless, my concern for him consumed my imagination. Fear, learning he died alone, roaches feasting on his remains. Like the horror story we hear about the Old Lady with numerous cats. She died alone, her carcass a banquet for the felines.
Over the years, no one could convince D. G. to improve himself or his residential conditions. Now he is greatly older and often I want to call the ‘Elderly Abuse line. Report him for ill-treatment of self. By chance, this year the health department intervened. D. G. was evicted from the rented dwelling. Sadly, he chose to move into a run–down, moreover crime ridden neighborhood. (Whose population will certainly intensify for lack of roach motels). Of course his dog resides with him! In fact, I spoke to D. G. the other day; asked why he didn’t enter an ‘Assisted Living’ place as we discussed. His answer, “I may be old, but I’m not stupid”. His new Neighbors are caring. However they as well; can not talk, hard-headed D. G. into going to a Doctor. Soon to be 76, trouble walking, blind in one eye, a hack- cough, D. G. has the nerve to tell me he is having trouble holding his urine.
Nevertheless; he is a person to be admired. Aside from his humor, despite his unhygienic ethics, there is a man with compelling principles. Values he nonchalantly, taught me. Standards that continue to guide me, like a Lighthouse in the dark. A constant compass point in my life. Many of us have at least one regret, we wish we could back and change. For D. G., his remorse came during his teenage time. At the beach - underneath a viaduct he strolled. Where two youngsters were raping a 16 year old, wheel chaired girl from his school. D. G. said he went initially to help her. Instead, in the process he got excited. End of story. Kids will be kids, has never been his slogan or excuse. The essential factor prevails; D. G. is genuinely remorseful for his involvement. While on the subject, some reason or the other; I asked D. G. his opinion concerning molestation. To this day, I clearly recall what he said; “Child molesters steal fruit before ripeness, stripping more than the flesh, they forever shred their victims childhood.”
The finest lesson I gather from D. G. is ‘the moment of truth’. He told how during his early years of bar hopping, while sitting on a bar stool - a voice inside him spoke, “You can either sit here until you become an alcoholic or you can get up, do something with your life”. D. G. has not been in a bar since. Most people see pink elephants, D. G. heard a voice. This voice he says is the moment of truth that speaks to everyone sometime in their life. You can listen to the voice or do nothing.
Yes, most people admire someone. However; if that person is additionally your Friend, wow! What a gem, what a treasure. For me, that person is D. G. ‘Warts and all’; nevertheless to me, he is a person to be admired, he is a Friend. And yes, I am Blessed to know him.
*Remember, you can comment anonymously; after all I go by the name Nom de plume ‘The Poetress’. Sure we ask for that crazy verification to be typed in, but that’s just to keep the ‘tin man’ away. So:
Whom do you admire? Is that person a Friend? What is your worst regret?
Monday, July 17, 2006
Musicians jam, Writers’ pen ideas read, Composers arrange compositions, Choreographers choreograph, Singers sing … Altogether; they creatively capture the far-reaching essences of life. As if their authentic intent and purposes were for each person’s, individual delight. Moreover; variety appears to be the relish for each ensemble. Hence, Artists are no different. Akin to some books, lyrics… art has additionally become fairly contentious over the years. There’s the art dung stink. News was a ‘buzz’ about Hillary Clinton being knee high in that rubbish. Fortunately, we can frequently rely on the artsy bungalows made from dozens of labeled, tinnish metallic silver. Shucks, likewise; there’s the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota. “Thousands of bushels of corn, grain, grasses, wild oats, brome grass, blue grass, rye, straw and wheat” are harvested yearly for this event! World’s Only Corn Palace
Thence today; a Family member sent me a link that takes the cake. Well, at least the flour from the cake. Whom does this Cake Walk honor go to? Several ‘crummy’ Artists who know how to make the dough. Therefore, let’s offer them a toast! However; nothing too buttery, cause they can jellify the heel from a loaf of bread. In fact, a few may call these Artistes half baked, nonetheless; they rather we refer to them as toasted. I agree, given that these crusty people are known for their Toast Art! Take for example the unveiling in Melbourne 2002; of the famous housewife, Dame Edna Everage. This toast portrait “uses the most pieces of bread ever used in an artwork, placing it in contention for the Guinness Book of Records”. And ‘believe it or not’, another Artist was commissioned by Ripley's. Toast Art, its jammin’- so spread the word about The ToastMan .
Thence today; a Family member sent me a link that takes the cake. Well, at least the flour from the cake. Whom does this Cake Walk honor go to? Several ‘crummy’ Artists who know how to make the dough. Therefore, let’s offer them a toast! However; nothing too buttery, cause they can jellify the heel from a loaf of bread. In fact, a few may call these Artistes half baked, nonetheless; they rather we refer to them as toasted. I agree, given that these crusty people are known for their Toast Art! Take for example the unveiling in Melbourne 2002; of the famous housewife, Dame Edna Everage. This toast portrait “uses the most pieces of bread ever used in an artwork, placing it in contention for the Guinness Book of Records”. And ‘believe it or not’, another Artist was commissioned by Ripley's. Toast Art, its jammin’- so spread the word about The ToastMan .
Sunday, July 16, 2006
I hear you; you’re all ears on this corny subject. Sounds cornish; just give me a hen and a slice of cornbread, why don’t you. Well, who unsanitarily saturated your Corn Flakes? I’m not going to bore you with a maze of corn poppin’, tidbit kernels of puns. Instead, I want to share the following stanza from the poem Verse, by Nizar Qabbani. (We encourage our Readers to post their opinion on why the Author refers to Arab children as “Corn ears”.)
"Arab children,
Corn ears of the future,
You will break our chains,
Kill the opium in our heads,
Kill the illusions.
Arab children,
Don't read about our suffocated generation,
We are a hopeless case.
We are as worthless as a water-melon rind.
Dont read about us,
Dont ape us,
Dont accept us,
Dont accept our ideas,
We are a nation of crooks and jugglers.
Arab children,
Spring rain,
Corn ears of the future,
You are the generation
That will overcome defeat."
The full poem can be read at Oldpoetry.
About the Author:
“Qabbani was a committed Arab nationalist and in recent years his poetry and other writings, including essays and journalism, had become more political. His writing also often fused themes of romantic and political despair. Qabbani's later poems included a strong strain of anti-authoritarianism. One couplet in particular -- "O Sultan, my master, if my clothes are ripped and torn it is because your dogs with claws are allowed to tear me" -- is sometimes quoted by Arabs as a kind of wry shorthand for their frustration with life under dictatorship.” PoemHunter.com
"Through a lifetime of writing, Qabbani made women his main theme and inspiration. He earned a reputation for daring with the publication in 1954 of his first volume of verse, "Childhood of a Breast," which broke with the conservative traditions of Arabic literature. But it was not until he resigned from the Syrian diplomatic service in 1966 that Qabbani reached full flower. After the Arab defeat in the 1967 Arab-Israeli war, he founded the Nizar Qabbani publishing house in London, and his became a powerful and eloquent voice of lament for Arab causes." Cornell University Library
Final Thought:
It is unfortunate; that as of April 30, 1998 – society lost such a politically talented Poetic, Writer.
Best links about Nizar Qabbani:
Wikipedia®
Nizar Qabbani
"Arab children,
Corn ears of the future,
You will break our chains,
Kill the opium in our heads,
Kill the illusions.
Arab children,
Don't read about our suffocated generation,
We are a hopeless case.
We are as worthless as a water-melon rind.
Dont read about us,
Dont ape us,
Dont accept us,
Dont accept our ideas,
We are a nation of crooks and jugglers.
Arab children,
Spring rain,
Corn ears of the future,
You are the generation
That will overcome defeat."
The full poem can be read at Oldpoetry.
About the Author:
“Qabbani was a committed Arab nationalist and in recent years his poetry and other writings, including essays and journalism, had become more political. His writing also often fused themes of romantic and political despair. Qabbani's later poems included a strong strain of anti-authoritarianism. One couplet in particular -- "O Sultan, my master, if my clothes are ripped and torn it is because your dogs with claws are allowed to tear me" -- is sometimes quoted by Arabs as a kind of wry shorthand for their frustration with life under dictatorship.” PoemHunter.com
"Through a lifetime of writing, Qabbani made women his main theme and inspiration. He earned a reputation for daring with the publication in 1954 of his first volume of verse, "Childhood of a Breast," which broke with the conservative traditions of Arabic literature. But it was not until he resigned from the Syrian diplomatic service in 1966 that Qabbani reached full flower. After the Arab defeat in the 1967 Arab-Israeli war, he founded the Nizar Qabbani publishing house in London, and his became a powerful and eloquent voice of lament for Arab causes." Cornell University Library
Final Thought:
It is unfortunate; that as of April 30, 1998 – society lost such a politically talented Poetic, Writer.
Best links about Nizar Qabbani:
Wikipedia®
Nizar Qabbani
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Now we’re talking my language! Unfortunately, a language several people don’t understand. Maybe because I’m an old Bluer. For instance, has any Reader ever heard of J. Blackfoot? I’ve only found one album by him. The best song I like of his is Storyteller from the CD Reality. “Cupid shot his arrow in the sky, hit my friend and not I…don’t make me a storyteller…”
However; if you want a fantastic education on the Blues - N'awlins Style - checkout the CD “Goin’ Back To New Orleans” by Dr. John. Inside the CD cover insert, Dr. John renders some excellent historical details, for each song from the GNO (Greater New Orleans) era. The total CD insert is a Lagniappe!
Listen to a few songs from this CD at Amazon.
My favorite is Cabbage Head!:
The first night that I come home
So drunk I could not see
Found a horse in my stable
Where my horse oughta be
Come here my little wifey
Explain this thing to me
How come a horse in the stable
Where my horse oughta be?
You blind fool, you crazy fool
Can't you never see?
It's only a milkcow
You're granny sent to me
I've traveled this world over
Ten thousand miles or more
But a saddle upon a milkcow's back
I never did see before…
*Rumor has it that Dr. John’s Official Website can be found here!
Now who says the blues are bad! Not when you’ve got R&B! So kick your heals and get those shoes a tappin’!
Then, when you're done chillaxin’, hook us up if you found any good old blue songs,!
Thanks!
However; if you want a fantastic education on the Blues - N'awlins Style - checkout the CD “Goin’ Back To New Orleans” by Dr. John. Inside the CD cover insert, Dr. John renders some excellent historical details, for each song from the GNO (Greater New Orleans) era. The total CD insert is a Lagniappe!
Listen to a few songs from this CD at Amazon.
My favorite is Cabbage Head!:
The first night that I come home
So drunk I could not see
Found a horse in my stable
Where my horse oughta be
Come here my little wifey
Explain this thing to me
How come a horse in the stable
Where my horse oughta be?
You blind fool, you crazy fool
Can't you never see?
It's only a milkcow
You're granny sent to me
I've traveled this world over
Ten thousand miles or more
But a saddle upon a milkcow's back
I never did see before…
*Rumor has it that Dr. John’s Official Website can be found here!
Now who says the blues are bad! Not when you’ve got R&B! So kick your heals and get those shoes a tappin’!
Then, when you're done chillaxin’, hook us up if you found any good old blue songs,!
Thanks!
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
How would you like to create your own Nation? Kinda like the game Risk, except the object is neither to ‘conquer’ the world nor to ‘win’. So where’s the fun then? Being in total control! Name your own Nation anything you want. Be any kind of Government you want from masochistic to docile! Vote on Legislative issues the way you want… Join the United Nations, the world's major governing body. Well, guess what!?! You can actually do this - on the web - for free! Check out NationStates
“NationStates is a free nation simulation game. Build a nation and run it according to your own warped political ideals. Create a Utopian paradise for society's less fortunate or a totalitarian corporate police state. Care for your people or deliberately oppress them. Join the United Nations or remain a rogue state. It's really up to you.”
"NationStates is a nation simulation game created by Max Barry and based loosely on his novel "
I made up a Nation for the 'Female Members' of my Family. Our National Motto is ‘COW’ (Mothers and Daughters Carrying On Womanhood). Our Nation is here MilkaWay . After filling out a series of fun - political mumbo jumbo - questions, a humorous introductorily page was generated. Ironically, this sentence was included: “A small private sector is dominated by the Book Publishing industry.”
Let me know, Total control – yea or nah?
“NationStates is a free nation simulation game. Build a nation and run it according to your own warped political ideals. Create a Utopian paradise for society's less fortunate or a totalitarian corporate police state. Care for your people or deliberately oppress them. Join the United Nations or remain a rogue state. It's really up to you.”
"NationStates is a nation simulation game created by Max Barry and based loosely on his novel "
I made up a Nation for the 'Female Members' of my Family. Our National Motto is ‘COW’ (Mothers and Daughters Carrying On Womanhood). Our Nation is here MilkaWay . After filling out a series of fun - political mumbo jumbo - questions, a humorous introductorily page was generated. Ironically, this sentence was included: “A small private sector is dominated by the Book Publishing industry.”
Let me know, Total control – yea or nah?
https://www.gofundme.com/the-traveling-one-movie
"The pen is mightier than the sword." - Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton
