I Wake And Feel The Fell Of Dark, Not Day

I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.

What hours, O what black hours we have spent

This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went!

And more must, in yet longer light's delay.

With witness I speak this. But where I say

Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament

Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent

To dearest him that lives alas! away.

I am gall, I am heartburn. God's most deep decree

Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me;

Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse.

Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see

The lost are like this, and their scourge to be

As I am mine, their sweating selves, but worse.

From The Major Works by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Identity

Photo by Brian Aris

Photo by Falcon Stuart

Photo by Falcon Stuart

Photo by Falcon Stuart

Photo by Falcon Stuart

Top: Chrissie Hynde, Debbie Harry, Viv Albertine & Siouxsie Sioux
Bottom: Poly Styrene & Pauline Black [Photographer unknown]

I Live Off You

Poly Styrene

Rest In Peace

"Poly Styrene, best known as the frontwoman with 1970s punk group X-Ray Spex, has died. Styrene was receiving treatment for an advanced form of breast cancer when she passed away yesterday." ... Story continues here: Poly Styrene Dies Aged 53 (The Guardian)

Quote Of The Week

"There is a theory which states that if ever anybody discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened."

They'll Never Keep Us Down

Hazel Dickens

Rest In Peace

"Hazel Dickens, a clarion-voiced advocate for coal miners and working people and a pioneer among women in bluegrass music, died on Friday in Washington.' ... Story continues here: Hazel Dickens, Folk Singer, Dies At 75 (NY Times)

Dig: A profile of Hazel Dickens (YouTube)

Buy: Hazel & Alice - Pioneering Women Of Bluegrass

Buy: Hazel Dickens - Few Old Memories

Sonnet 20

A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted

Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;

A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted

With shifting change, as is false women's fashion;

An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,

Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;

A man in hue, all 'hues' in his controlling,

Much steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.

And for a woman wert thou first created;

Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,

And by addition me of thee defeated,

By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.

But since she prick'd thee out for women's pleasure,

Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.

Quote Of The Week

“Faith is the surrender of the mind; it's the surrender of reason, it's the surrender of the only thing that makes us different from other mammals. It's our need to believe, and to surrender our skepticism and our reason, our yearning to discard that and put all our trust or faith in someone or something, that is the sinister thing to me. Of all the supposed virtues, faith must be the most overrated.”

"Music Is The Brandy Of The Damned"

Dig: Record Store Day (official site)

My Great Great Etc. Uncle Patrick Henry

There's a fortune to be made in just about everything
in this country, somebody's father had to invent
everything — baby food, tractors, rat poisoning.
My family's obviously done nothing since the beginning
of time. They invented poverty and bad taste
and getting by and taking it from the boss.
O my mother goes around chewing her nails and
spitting them in a jar: You shouldn't be ashamed
of yourself she says, think of your family.
My family I say what have they ever done but
paint by numbers the most absurd and disgusting scenes
of plastic squalor and human degradation.
Well then think of your great great etc. Uncle
Patrick Henry.

From Absences by James Tate.

50 Years Ago Today...

"A baby-faced, not yet 20 year old Bobby Dylan starts earning his keep in NYC 50 years ago today warming up the Gerde's Folk City crowd for the great John Lee Hooker. Dylan was one of thousands of performers to take the stage for Mike Porco at Folk City. Very few moments have stood the test of time. Mike Porco looked after Bobby like his own son. In fact, he was wearing hand-me-downs from Mike's real sons for this gig. He also gave him two bucks for a haircut. He never got the haircut." [from Gerde's Folk City At 50]

Dig: Gerde's Folk City (Friday Night Fever)

Quote Of The Week

"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words."

Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

Joey Ramone

May 19th, 1951 – April 15th, 2001

Rest In Peace

"Friday, April 15 marks the 10th anniversary of the passing of Jeff Hyman, better known to the rock world as Joey Ramone. Though that milestone may be a sad one, signs of his musical impact abound." ... Story continues here: Joey Ramone's Brother Reflects (Spinner)

Prince Of The City

Sidney Lumet

Rest In Peace

"Somehow it has always felt right to me that Sidney Lumet's first film was 1957's 12 Angry Men, with all the elements that Lumet loved best. It was a dialogue-driven set piece by writer Reginald Rose that was perfect for a director who loved words. There was its powerful ensemble of actors, with Henry Fonda's lone dissenting juror facing off against Lee J. Cobb's rage. An unseen defendant's life hinged on a moral dilemma, with the jurors' debate an examination of social class and cultural perceptions as much as one man's guilt or innocence." ... Story continues here: Sidney Lumet: An Appreciation (LA Times)

A Coney Island Of My Mind #6

Photography by Lee Greenfeld © 2011

Quote Of The Week

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me lay an invincible summer."

Play Ball!

If you want to hear how people scream.

Go and see the latest baseball team.

When you want to hear how people scream.

Go see New York's latest baseball team.

Such loyalty, sincerity. Hard to believe.

Although they're last, not one of them have no regrets.

They believe in the New York Mets.

They're cheering, 'We want a hit!' 'We want a hit!'

From the crack of the bat, there's noise in the place.

Especially if a Met can get on first base.

Download: "The New York Mets" by Duke Of Iron