A QUOTE TO START THINGS OFF WITH

A QUOTE TO START THINGS OFF

An Inning of T-ball is the most exciting 3 hours of sports - David Letterman




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I tell my kids on a regular basis that people are more important than things. I tell them this, because I believe it is true. Like most true...

Three Dave's No Waiting

Saturday, February 13, 2016

Songs from my cassette collection Volume I

It has been a while since I have participated in Six Word Saturday at Show My Face.  So I have two for the price of one.  


We Bought a Jeep on Monday

It has a working cassette player.

We have not owned a cassette player for sometime and once I noticed that we now did.  I pulled out my 200 or so cassettes from under my bed and have started listening to them again.  I forgot about a lot of the music down there and have decided to post lyrics from songs occasionaly here and if possible videos of said songs at Dave Out Loud.  

Today's song comes from Steve Scott a poet/musician whose 1983 album love in the western world contained this gem.



This Sad Music

The whales are dying now,

hurling themselves upon the beaches
black dice reckoned under the sun's watchful gaze

There's sweat on the preacher's brow

as he talks about damnation.
The whales are in love with no one
They wanted to die without explanation

He mops his brow and quotes Malcolm Muggeridge

on - quote -
"the collapse of western civilization"
- end quote -
and the book he waves in the air
is as black as whaleskin

He urges people to "make their decision"

and the whales have made their decision

An awful silence surrounds them

Like a ruined castle they lie
still, passive, beyond explanations

Beads of sweat on the preacher's brow

like small clear animals clinging to a rock face
or like tiny transparent whales
flinging themselves from the boiling seas of his eyes
into a slow, certain dying

The sad music in their brains, a piper's lament

from that old castle in the mist-thickened night

"FIFTEEN THOUSAND CINEMAS ACROSS THIS LAND,

DEPICTING EVERY SEXUAL ACT KNOWN TO
THE HUMAN IMAGINATION!" shouts the preacher

His voice is a door slamming shut

the sea's noise is a vast intake of breath
a gesture in a room to break the silence
now the whales have broken the silence

They are the color of the preacher's harsh words


The white foam rushes to embrace them

like mother and father
The whales do not want to know, and now

There are people sprawled on the beaches

chained together by "HUMAN IMAGINATION"
All the music has bled out of them,
drained from the ends of their fingers
splashed from the loudspeakers of their wallets

And at the end of the service, people walk forward

Perhaps it is "the collapse of western civilization"
that moves them
or the sad music of their slow, certain dying
that guides their feet

And at the end of this poem

a strange light comes off the bodies of the whales
gathering up the shadows like driftwood
and splashing them against the far walls

you would think the shadows would make

the words there hard to read
However, I find it's at a time like this
I see the writing clearest of all

(c) Steve Scott 1983

Click here to watch the video at Dave Out Loud.

Click here for more Six Word Saturday

Also posted at Home School Dad #HSD=YBD

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