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A New Soft-Rock Song  --  by John Hessburg.

4/9/2018

0 Comments

 
Picture

LIGHT  FANTASTIC
 
© Copyright 2018-2020.  Lyric & Music by John Hessburg.  All Rights Reserved.
 
 
You are the fountain of all burning stars
You sift the galaxies like sand
And when a comet carves the night
It's just a comma
In your luminous command.
 
You are the keeper of the wind and storm
You breathe the seasons in and out
And when your lightning flares along
From west to east I feel a song
Inside me rise and shout.

 
 
CHORUS:
Hey Lo’, Love your Light Fantastic
Mmm, gonna run with you all morning
And through the long night
I crave your colors
Until your New Day shines.

 
 
You shape the valleys and the mountain walls
Your summits pierce the alpenglow
I'm never more alive than when
I dig my doubtless fingers in
Your shining sides of rock and snow.
 
You are the painter of the western sky
You splash your seas with living fire
And when another day is done
I sing your names into the sun
Heart climbin’ like a choir.
 
 

Hey Lo’, Love your Light Fantastic
Mmm, gonna stride with you all afternoon
And through the long night
I crave your colors

Until your New Day shines.
 

 
You say to let the children laugh and play
You gather all their mothers’ sighs
So it’s no mystery it seems
How every lover’s living dreams --
Your spark gleams in their eyes.
 
That spark rejuvenates and crowns with flame
The poets, painters, singing souls,
And newlyweds all lost in space
Rapt in wholly flushed embrace
That’s how your Spirit rolls.

 
 
Hey Lo’, Love your Light Fantastic
Mmm, gonna rest with you as evening falls
And through the long night
I praise your power

Until your New Day shines.
 

( Sung slowly, a capella, sotto voce… )
 
You are the keeper of the wind & storm
You breathe the seasons in and out...



Picture

Our warm thanks, once again, to the talented team at Pixabay for these images of alpine & island Light.
Top photo of ice climber by Felix Broennimann, Germany.  Beachside palms by "Mustang Joe," Canada.
Curacao sunset by David Mark of Alcoa, TN.  Hats off all 3 photogs for securing their "Decisive Moment."

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Seigneur de tous, nous aimons ta Lumière ... aujourd'hui, demain et pour toujours.
Herr von allem, wir lieben dein Licht... heute, morgen und für immer.
Señor de todos, nos encanta su Luz... hoy, mañana y siempre.
Senhor de toda a gente, nós amamos sua Luz... hoje, amanhã e sempre. 
Signore di tutti, noi amiamo la tua luce ... oggi, domani e sempre.
Bwana wa wote, tunampenda Nuru yako - leo, kesho na milele.
יהוה כל, אנו אוהבים את אור היום, ... מחר לנצח.
Κύριε όλων, αγαπάμε το Φως σου ... σήμερα, αύριο και για πάντα.
Tuhan, kita mengasihi Lampu anda  ... hari ini, besok dan selama-lamanya.
우리는 모두 주님, 당신의 빛을 사랑...오늘, 내일 그리고 영원히.
Chúa tể của tất cả chúng ta yêu, ánh sáng hôm nay, ngày mai... và mãi mãi.
सभी का भगवान, हम आपके प्रकाश से प्यार करते हैं ... आज, कल और हमेशा के लिए।
Наш Бог на небесах, мы любим ваш теплый свет, сегодня и навсегда.
所有的上帝,我们爱你的光芒......今天,明天,永远。



0 Comments

4 Restive New Poems by Geoff Garwick...

3/6/2017

1 Comment

 
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                         LIVING the SCREAM
 
                                                       By Geoffrey Garwick

 
Felicitations to Edvard Munch, Norwegian painter, for building wealth, fame and his beloved estates of Ekely and Ramme; and for being banned as “degenerate” by the Nazis – who tried to imply at his funeral that he approved of them.
 
 
On the jeer-stained bridge to no day,
Mouthing off, swallowing the possibly
Krakatoa light over Oslo’s Ekeberg Hill,
Where slaughterhouse hugs his sister’s bedlam;
Bugged by cardboard, technicolor munchkins,
Extracting death’s cowardly canines,
Dance around its fallen hovel.
 

Rinsing fragments of mint-flavored grit,
Chewing on it.  Chewing on it.
Eschewing wit, but still they bit.
They munch and munch and munch.
 

On porous death’s raggedy corpse --
Inwards spilling out, Moebius warps,
Love, beauty, guffaws, music -- joys apprenticed,
Rot’s root canal is drilled by dwarf dentists.
 

Charon’s toothless boss leaps off the Golden Gate,
(Or maybe Brooklyn’s Bridge?) as we nip, nip, nibble.
Flossing Tartarus from that shock-brained wail,
Our every breath robs Cerberus’ kibble,
Scratching time’s heads, folks quip, quip, quibble.
 
 
Little digits plying choirs of pliers...
Though the children died, each descant they sang
Pried painfully out -- one more deathly  fang --
Forgetting the Lidocaine, playfully,
Then we the billions of merciless hygienists
Swarm over fey fate in a Dada gang.
 
 
The Peanut Gallery swarms the scyther’s soul,
What time is it now kids? yells groaning Sheol,
The frozen life:  poppy, absinthe, syphilis,
Grow into chitin for Ramme's chrysalis.
His lover Tulla’s bullet gives the finger --
Middle, nitrous, tricking death to linger.
Pain tempts us all to jumped conclusions…
Yet when tots yell back, death reaps contusions.
 


© All 4 Poems Copyright Geoffrey Byron Garwick.  All Rights Reserved.

© Photo of the iconic painting "The Scream" by Edvard Munch, provided courtesy of Pixabay.




SURFACE TENSION

Sleek pebble stands
As pond hurtles
Past it.
Ripples leave
The crash slyly.




RICE RAIN

Throwing a hefty
Seventeen syllables
May grunt like a
Sumo match.



AUTUMN TANGENT

First snow gem
Glides shyly to my skin --
This glancing flutter may become
Warming rain or drift-sculpting blizzard.

Either way, Sistinely, the touch has been made.
So, if a hexagon shard melts on finger or arm,
Then close-reflected in the air-borne mirrors,
Eve-Adam grazes Lilith-God and
Life, oncoming winter and all,
Is, first of all, a flesh wound.

While the partners may be
Enchapeled in frost-fused crystal
For a newly risen sparkling,
Interlacing thaw drip and ice,
From confusions of finger-thin branches
This mighty now, this flimsy might,
Traces languid channels on my hide.



© All 4 Poems Copyright Geoffrey Byron Garwick.  All Rights Reserved.




1 Comment

FAT  TUESDAY  SONG:  a poem by John Hessburg.

6/2/2016

2 Comments

 
Cruised into work one morning and out of the blue found this zinger of a poem, "Bad Influence Girl," by Janet Rogerson, posted on social media.  Set aside all morning e-mails, relishing her wild new poems.  Faux-twerking the Mardis Gras in New Orleans, this bit of satire was propelled to life by the sass and sauce of Janet's 1st stanza.  Look her up on Google+, amigos.  She's a happy hurricane slicing up the doldrums...
 

A bad influence girl

is sampling a department store. She takes my hand,
leads me into traffic just as it starts to breathe again.
She runs, pulling me through five lanes
throwing her head back laughing
like she’s just turned sausages to gold
and is wearing a string of them around her neck.....


_________________________________________________________________


FAT TUESDAY SONG
(for Mardis Gras)


Just what the planet needs right now...
The free world sorely needs --
Legions more -- Bad Influence Girls
And dancing global warming feeds...
Hot trance, a hive of hand-swept curls
No blushes on their knees, the girls stand
Tall, tossing gilded sausage garlands
Off imperial balconies to boot
The carnal cool parade, Le Carnaval
de Joie
That presses past, a steady grinding
Tide like sheep and goats in a stockyard chute,
Sleepy-eyed and grinning, neatly
Groomed for the abattoir.

One dire "Badder the Better" clone
Girl perched above, furls her tie-died T shirt high,
Serene and zaftig, swept off in some Samba zone
She flings with blase' joy more jewelry of meat,
Flesh trapped and shredded from this world,
Headed for the next.  (Now pause, repeat.)

Semi-precious?  Rare as Mardis Gras beads,
New necklaces of afterbirth about
To be reborn as pearls are
Raining down to meet the needs
Of blank-eyed shuffling reveler boys
And girls embracing the longish Night...
Oh here they come, inurred to joys,
Yo Mama here they come
Unblessed and numb, insentient to Light.




© Copyright 2016-2020, John Hessburg / The Diction Aerie.  All rights reserved.

© "Bad Influence Girl" 1st verse / Copyright Janet Rogerson.

2 Comments

"SCARS at the YMCA":  poem by Geoffrey Garwick

3/8/2016

2 Comments

 
© Copyright Geoffrey Byron Garwick.  All Rights Reserved.
 
 
My God, there are a lot of ways
To carve into a person.
In the locker room you see them --
Hacked, whittled, head-to-toe,
Back to front, sewn left, middle, right.
 
The remnants some seamster joined
Glisten with shower, sweat, tears.
Recall that these ridged meat fabrics
Are the ones surviving.
 
The Impersonal Trainer squints,
Stitching these outward signs
Into pieces of motley quilts:
Puce, onyx, pink designs.
 
Time not only will erode us,
It slices and dices
Like the flying fingers,
And heavenly droning patter
of those State Fair barkers
Who whiz their miracle knives
for the crowd's delight,
Dissecting bushels of veggies.
 
The randomly knit logic of
Flashing blades and hapless flesh
Flays carrots into edible sticks
And helpless skin to herringbone.
 
Incising the athletic Y
From stem to sternum,
From delts to pecs to abs,
For final workouts and glimpsing
All that intimate embroidery.
 
We run our laps.
We toga drape our towels.
We lift our weight.
We limp under glass-dark rowels.
Life maps our skin;
We laugh, shrug, cry our howls.
 
 


2 Comments

"MID-SEASON":  a winter-rupting poem                   by Geoff Garwick of Minnesota. 

3/4/2016

1 Comment

 
© Copyright Geoffrey Byron Garwick.  All Rights Reserved.
 

What is the price of winter –
All those summers dead and gone?
Half the buffet sits emptied,
The still sunlight’s gold, but wan.
No warmth left to be mirrored
In the ice-wrinkled lies of dawn.
 
Then, just when I’m a loyal thrall of gloom,
Some damned, scarlet-blurting cardinal
Wings to punctuate the tree-streaked blank of sky.
Or a six-yeared granddaughter whirls past,
Doing a roundoff with – count them –
One, two, back handsprings.
 
Where’s the consistency of theme or mood?
I want a refund, or, at least a recount.
Better yet – more thyme on my cold curry.


1 Comment

ELEGY for DIZZY:   "WayneBo the Rainbow Boy" -- a folk-rock ballad for a friend of 50 years --             by John Hessburg, Editor.

12/19/2015

2 Comments

 
Picture
Nerve center of fine arts & dialectics in Dinkytown USA -- WayneBo's pad for 14 years -- The Alamo. The 'Mo was a near-legend in Southeast Minneapolis during the 1980s & 1990s -- Dinkytown's revered House of Chill Repute.
© Copyright 2015-2020, Lyric & Music by John Hessburg. All Rights Reserved.

WAYNEBO the RAINBOW BOY

Some souls are like rainbows, they last just a while
You never know where they start
They arrive on a breeze & depart when they please
But they always gladden your heart.
 
Ain’t easy growin’ old in a culture this cold
Folks are so mobile & fast
Wayne filled his cup only half growing up
He made the innocence last.


(CHORUS)
Oh WayneBo the Rainbow

WayneBo the Rainbow
WayneBo the Rainbow Boy
He was clever & curious, a little mysterious
His pot o' gold was a wry kinda free-flyin’ joy

WayneBo the Rainbow Boy.


When
WayneBo was young his spirit was stung
By forces & faces he never could share
His heart grew wary & he never did marry
That loyal cat Gusto was his only heir.

For 50 odd years he danced with his fears
Toy action figures were satires of Self
No need to sulk while Godzilla & Hulk
Delighted our boy from their shelf.

(CHORUS)

His hair was unkempt, his aroma fresh hemp
His jeans they were Holier Than Thou
He was Mad Hatter sweet from his smile to his feet
Maestro of the Here & Now.

Wayne's luminous brain never let him grow vain
No time for drama, no braggin’, no bling
A grin lit his face when he said he got grace
From “TV Church” Sundays -- watching wrestling !

(CHORUS)

In his warehouse called “Spectrum,” no boss to correct him
Years with no windows, his work was his toy
Comic books galore, in piles on the floor
A New Never-Land for an Eternal Boy.

Ah remember when, back at Ol’ Seven-Ten
And a house that we called Alamo
Those late-night bull sessions, we partied like Hessians
And life had a carnival glow.

(CHORUS)

( Slow a capella, tempo rubato chant… )

Some souls are like rainbows, they last just a while
You never know where they start
They arrive on a breeze & depart when they please
But they always gladden your heart.


2 Comments

"I Need a Brand-New Thrill":  a blues tune                by John Hessburg.

7/3/2015

2 Comments

 
© Copyright 2015 - 2020  /  Lyric & Music by John Hessburg.  All Rights Reserved.

Life aint nothin' but bones 'n souls
And joy is just a riddle
Me, I wanna spray-paint a Strad violin
To look like a cow-punk fiddle.

TV shows me a million grins
And every bloody one is bland
I'll trade you seven deadly sins
For one lyric that gets banned...

          CHORUS:
          There's just so little time to live
          But so much time to kill
          So help me God I'm ready
          I need a brand new thrill.

Fame & fortune intoxicate you
But oh that glory fades
Me, I'd rather park at a red-line curb
And dodge the meter maids.

I know a man who wheels & deals
Pushing to be nouveau riche
Me, I walk a Doberman to the zoo
Just to let go of the leash...
 
          CHORUS:
          There's just so little time to live
          But so much time to kill
          So help me God I'm ready
          I need a brand new thrill

Some guys are looking for Princess Grace
Some for the devil's daughter
Some like to set their skin on fire
Diving into winter water.

Some folks love to ski off cliffs
Some are jumpin' out of planes
Me, I like to drive about 45
In the left-hand freeway lanes...

          CHORUS:
          There's just so little time to live
          But so much time to kill
          So help me God I'm ready
          I need a brand new
          Need a brand new thrill
.

2 Comments

"FOREVER  RIVER" --  lyric for a folk-rock tune           by John Hessburg.

6/9/2015

2 Comments

 

© Copyright 2015 - 2020  /  Lyric & Music by John Hessburg.  All Rights Reserved.


I said I know a place
Of solitary grace & pleasure
We climbed a narrow trail
I promised to unveil a treasure
When you saw the high cliff
And the ivory water falling
You were like a child with eyes aglow
Catch the river spirit
Can you hear it calling?


CHORUS:
Ah your step & swirl
Little dancing girl
I love to see you curl & sway
Trace a pirouette
Maybe I'll forget
That all this world is only wind & clay
Forever River dance away.

 
The falls & silver pool
A moment of renewal was ours
We swam into the spray
Washed the world away... soul showers
When the clouds divided
And a sudden sunlight touched you
I could see a fire you held inside
Pretty city daughter
Taste the wild water...


CHORUS:
Ah your step & swirl
Little dancing girl
I love to see you curl & sway
Trace a pirouette
Maybe I'll forget
That all this world is only wind & clay
Forever River dance away.


Ah your step & swirl
Little dancing girl
I love to see you curl & sway...

2 Comments

"Inaccessible Blue" --  lyric for a jazz melody            by John Hessburg.

5/25/2015

0 Comments

 
INACCESSIBLE  BLUE


©
Copyright 2015 - 2020  /  Lyric & Music by John Hessburg.  All Rights Reserved.



Sky high
I need to fly into your pale embrace
Deeper than life you are the womb
Sky high
So faraway in perfect emptiness
Say, do you really have the room
For a traveler such as me
Who is resting on destiny
And living it up for a song
About laughing at gloom


CHORUS:
Love teacher how I bless you
I reach but can't caress you
You're so Inaccessible Blue



Sky high
Your little finger stirs the galaxies
So won't you lend me a hand
Sky high
I'll run my fingers through your soft celeste
Then maybe I will understand
Why you planted this longing so deep
That I'm calling for you in my sleep
But you never will show me your face
In this place where I stand



CHORUS:
Love teacher how I bless you
I reach but can't caress you
You're so Inaccessible Blue



Sky high
I feel your warm breath flowing down on me
Deeper than love you draw me near
Sky high
If I could glide into your quiet heart
You'd roll away a world of fear
Oh I wait for you every night
Then I praise each day's new light
You're a dawning, a promise
Of everything bright & clear


CHORUS:
Love teacher how I bless you
I reach but can't caress you
You're so Inaccessible
You're so Inaccessible
You're so Inaccess...
Sybil, Sybil, Sybil, Sybil...Blue…




© Copyright Lyric & Music by John Hessburg.  All Rights Reserved.


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