10/27-28/21 ENTER THE EVENING A shadow crept across early evening. As I was retrieving the mail I stopped in my tracks and looked up. A thousand wings whispered across the autumn sky in undulating murmurations of velvety simplicity. None collided with the other but danced a ballet in perfect synchronicity across heaven. The tinted hues of sunset; royal purple and brilliant orange painted against a dark blueing background. Even the cricket at my foot that stopped its chirping and, propped up against my shoe, seemed to look up in amazement. A pair of local chipmunks scurried about in the chilled air foraging for nuts and berries to store for winter - oblivious to the magic in the sky. In one step I had travelled from the reality of a chaotic and stressful day into a calm, quiet and peaceful evening.
Canada Geese mate for life. This pair refused to tell me how long they’d been together but based on their observed behavior – I’d guess they weren’t newlyweds. LOL
RAMBLINGS ON SUFFERING (6/21/19)
Of all living things
the most fortunate are
those who escaped….
I saw a still-born hippo
floating in a pool,
it’s legs reaching to the sky
as it’s grieving mother swam, circling around it.
Why did the opossum cross the road?
Did it not see the car speeding onward?
Now just another memory of life
flattened on asphalt.
There’s a black man hanging from a tree, like my savior,
with a sacrilegious cross burning in the yard.
The sounds of wailing through tears
mocked by fleeing hooded jeers and laughter.
And I’ve seen a black man stopped by police
because of the color of his skin
Unjustly harassed, searched and thrown against the car
only to find nothing.
My dear Ophelia, drifting underwater
what was your last thought
watching the last air bubble, wobble
and rise toward a liquid sky?
To a woman: Did you feel free
the moment you jumped
from that high blue bridge
and flew toward the earth?
The broken red wings of your spirit
spilling through your cracked skull
onto the pavement one summer morning.
Your twisted body, lying there
in front of me behind the wheel,
on a street called North when you went South.
The subject of a undisciplined and indiscriminate passerby
who just had to wiggle out of her red van,
before the police arrived, get up close
and take a photo with her cell-phone.
The mosquito gorging itself
on the blood-feast of its host
takes no notice of the hand that will kill it.
The fly for all it’s many eyes
still cannot see
that it feeds, mostly, on shit.
Does the flower feel pain
as each of its petals fall until
all that is left is a withered stem?
Does the tree feel pain
when its limbs are stripped from the trunk
during the storm or when
this living thing is cut down
by the chainsaw massacre of deforestation?
I’ve seen wild mice care for the injured young in a nest disturbed.
I’ve heard the piercing, shrieking squeal of injured rabbits.
I’ve seen the Killdeer risk its life to distract a predator
and I’ve looked into the sad, fearful eyes of an unloved dog.
I’ve seen a deer hit by a car get up and limp away
only to die by the side of road while looking back
as if to apologize for disturbing traffic.
I’ve seen a butterfly with a broken wing
clinging to hope while wishing it were back in its cocoon.
I’ve seen the fish
stranded too long on the beach
its glassy eye blinded by sunlight
its gaping mouth filled with sand and
its scales sticky with death
In Alaska, I found a cassette tape
by the side of the road
the middle of nowhere
the wilderness, no one around for miles
wet and muddy, its case cracked
I don’t know what made me
pick it up and take it home.
I let it dry, cleaned it, rewound it and carefully placed the tape in a new case.
My proud first attempt at restoration.
Then I put it in the player and pressed “PLAY”
I was assaulted by the sounds of thrown objects
hitting something and someone,
cursing, screams, cries, anger, hatred, vicious argument,
begging and pleading.
There were no names.
and the sound of a crying child hiding in a corner whimpering “please stop”
Threats and the dull sound of fists hitting flesh
meting out punishment where once there was love.
I sat listening. Frozen. Unable to move.
As the sun set I cried.
I’ve smelled living death
The stink of blood mixed with piss
as the cancer-fill man stood naked by the toilet.
His unbathed pasty flesh clammy with sweat.
He is too weak to bathe himself so I have to help
as I try to disguise my gagging reflex;
and I wonder if this is what the mortician sees, feels and smells.
And I’ve smelled the death of a slaughterhouse
the mindless cruelty and knock of a thudding blow
to the head of a cow with a stunbolt
the still live animal lying helpless, it’s throat now slit,
blood gushing in rivers onto the dirty, stained concrete floor,
the twitching limbs of a dying years supply of hamburgers and steaks.
I’ve even smelled the death
of a carcass in the hot summer sun
at the dumping grounds of livestock no longer “live”.
Cattle, horses, pigs, sheep, goats piled indiscriminately
the rotting remains, not yet destroyed
lying in an open trailer to a buzzing soundtrack
the pungent waves of nauseating stink
this unmovable feast for flies and their maggot young
The bodies juices oozing
from the rusted corners of the container.
I’ve heard the uncontrollable impulsive
wailing of the living that accompanies
the release of the recently dead
Maybe I’ve seen too much
Maybe I’ve heard and smelled too much.
Maybe I’ve even said too much.
But of all the things that have touched me –
Have I let them move me?
Or do I stand in shock,
immobilized by the glare of oncoming lights
that are driven by forces beyond my control?
I sometimes wonder
if the luckiest child is
the one never born
into this world of suffering –
and of those already born;
if the most fortunate ones
have already escaped
the suffering that is yet to come.
purple martins majesty
live in mansions
run, run away
a honking, snapping terror
the goose is loose
fishes in reflections
one stiff leg
flock of pigeons
flying over — blue skies
poop on my head
excited sparrows chirp ’round
screech owl hatches wood duck
I’ve been thinking lately about thinning out my music collection (now several thousand CDs strong). I’ve been thinking about what I want to keep and what would I consider a master work. I’m going to introduce you today to a recording that fits the description of Masterwork for me. I bought this recording on a whim. I had never heard of this artist before and came upon his music by chance. I liked the cover art. The name of the artist was intriguing because it didn’t seem to fit the category of jazz that it had been saddled with and it also didn’t fit the record label it was recorded on. The description which was so general as if the writer wasn’t even sure how to categorize this music made me want to investigate this music. While each track has it’s own title – I will not be singling out song titles in this review because one needs to look at them as a series of movements in the larger work. To focus on titles would do a disservice to the overall recording.
Dhafer Youssef is an Oud player, vocalist and composer. His music is probably the most perfect fusion between jazz, muezzin, quranic and sufi musical styles and influences. The EPK (electronic press kit) that was released for this album had Youssef talk about his experience with observing birds in flight. For example, how a flock of birds hovering in their aerial ballet have a perfect ebb/flow, rhythm and pulse like a murmuration of starlings. The overall rhythm and pace of the album is expertly crafted with energetic and quiet points that are perfectly timed. In fact listening to the entire album in one sitting is an audio equivalent of a massive murmuration.
While listening I find myself at times quietly inspired then lifted up in elation to the point of ecstatic release. The instrumentation is an absolutely wonderful surprise. A real delightful feature is Youssef’s imaginative yet sensitive playing of the OUD (for those not familiar with this instrument: one might call it an anscestor of the lute and then later, guitar). Piano playing by Kristjan Randalu lilts through the entire album adding snippets of melody. I was surprised at the masterful contributions by trumpeter Nils-Petter Molvaer and electric guitar and effects man Elvind Aarset (both on the ECM label). The drummer Chander Sardjoe is a study in both minimalist accents and a strong backbone of support. The delightful contributions by Aytac Dogan on the zither-like kanun add such beautiful dressing on this feast for the ears. And not to be left out is the surprising use of clarinet, which I have never, NEVER heard used this way. The Clarinet is played by Hüsnu Senlendirici who plays with soul and adds a sense of life that would be sadly missing if it were absent. The musical cast is rounded out by the Bass playing of Phil Donkin which adds the appropriate bounce and lift. I would be completely incompetent if I didn’t mention the voice of Dhafer Youssef which starts low and builds; rising in registers. His voice (singing in arabic) starts mixing tones on overtones and is at times hard to distinguish between voice/clarinet/guitar ending in a climax, a musical grand release, a staggering work of stunning beauty.
In a world that is constantly on the move where music is more of a background soundtrack to the journey – this album definitely sets itself apart by becoming a destination. A place to stop,close your eyes, be quiet, listen and feel. I would strongly encourage you to purchase the downloads or (if you’re like me) the CD. It is one of those things that while purchased actually becomes priceless. A Masterwork in its own right.
Here is a video of a live performance of track 3 from the album titled Blending Souls & Shades (to Shiraz) the instrumental lineup is different (sans trumpet and clarinet) from the album but the song is still quite powerful. Enjoy.