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Showing posts from September, 2011

The Saturday Song Salute

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I'm starting up a new series for my blog called The Saturday Song Salute. Every Saturday (duh) I will pick a song that I feel is truly remarkable and should be heard by all. My choices will span across all genres and there will be no rhyme or reason to them. I will include a Youtube video (or some other method of listening) along with lyrics to accompany each song. Okay, enough with the opening statements, allow me to introduce my very first pick: Today I salute Jackson Browne for his song "For Everyman", a song inspired by the friendship with David Crosby, a sailing expedition through the South Pacific, and an overall longing to escape from reality and the creation of a better life. I could set this song on repeat and listen to it all day long: (lyrics) Everybody I talk to is ready to leave With the light of the morning They've seen the end coming down long enough to believe That they've heard their last warning Standing alone Each has his own ticket in

Bend

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bend poem by Mick Tomlinson we will recognize that steep mountain pass as a barrier to our love, and we'll tremble, and the distance between us will resemble oceans of bravery conquered only by ships and the heavens above and love will listen from far away as the roots of summer dig into the earth and the stars form bouquets in the sky, and your beautiful silence will sing out across the desert of middle Oregon where we will meet often, naked beneath the sunlight. shadows will fall away, childhood will return as we leap into a leaf-piled romance, covered with laughter and love, consumed by heartfelt celebration.

Playgrounds

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I have been distracted. Actually I'm being distracted on several fronts, but each one feels like a jump rope session on a Saturday afternoon. "Blue bells, cockle shells, easy ivy over". A group of young kids have gathered along the brick ledge of the southwestern side of the school yard again. Their lives are simple and carefree, their voices still full of that childish charm that goes missing as we get older. Times are hard everywhere else, but here on this playground time represents something so much better. I want to be part of it. I want to feel every rope skip, every kick of gravel from each sneaker as it leaves the ground. To these kids, a home doesn't represent a credit card yet. To these kids, the playground represents a lifetime of learning, and the rope is their foray into life. A perfectly timed entry is all that's needed... tap, tap, tap, tap... matching rope smacks to heartbeats before leaping in. "I like coffee, I like tea, I like the boys and