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Up in the Morning 3:070:00/3:07
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Borderline 5:150:00/5:15
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Strong Love 3:560:00/3:56
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John Riley 4:200:00/4:20
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Skull Hill 3:300:00/3:30
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Song of the Turtle 5:060:00/5:06
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The Crow 5:240:00/5:24
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Midnight in the Rain 7:300:00/7:30
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The Rowan Tree 7:000:00/7:00
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0:00/5:36
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Son of David 3:220:00/3:22
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Good to Go 3:120:00/3:12
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Wake Up the World 3:410:00/3:41
Thursday, July 25, AD 2024
Louisville, Kentucky
Latitude: 36 50’ 28" N Longitude: -84 51’ 01" W
469 feet above sea level
Sunrise: 6:40 Sunset: 8:58
Is any among you afflicted? let him pray. Is any merry?
let him sing psalms. -James the Apostle
Back to Work
Our father, strength of the sky, in hope
that your reputation be clean, your movement noted,
your pleasure accomplished on the ground as it is
in the sky; see that everyone has enough to eat today,
and pick us up, put us back to work as we have done
for everyone in our way. Don't lead us off into deep water
to see what we'll do but snatch us away
from disaster and from rot.
Words & Music, Sincerity & Roots
The First Street Sessions
Video - Front Porch Friday 4/17/20 - Skull Hill (click it)
Pumpkin Seed Relief
So light, I had to look
to see if you were still there
Lying on my third finger--
a tiny football,
No laces, gray green.
I left you on the desk, my
beloved object,
Had to go back for you
before I did the dishes.
Then, I forgot you until
after the news hour
When I came down to make
popcorn and drinks.
I put my hand in
my pocket
And, there you were,
smooth with potential.
I noticed you again the next afternoon
while my wife spoke of her progress.
You felt safe there and I rolled you
between my fingers.
Till the End of My Days
I snuck into the kitchen where the clarinet bit me.
I'll hobble till the end of my days.
From Whence the Trouble Comes
And, we go on with patches of blue.
Pine nods. Bird passes.
My sleepy head searches the scriptures,
Searches the sky and my rolled-in-fat heart.
Assistance is required from those who have been given much
And conspire to keep, multiply, consolidate
By sermon, by theft, by law, by terror,
By advertisement, pleading manifest destiny,
Hoarding the gift of the Elohim,
Stealing the sweat from the brows of the poor.
These ideas come to me, influenced, I admit
By Woody Guthrie, the rafts of plastic in the sea,
Children starving in a world of plenty,
And John the Apostle who knew from whence the trouble comes.
Let Him In
Our cat, before dawn, began to speak
In a voice like a baby practices speech so I got up
Opened the door to everyone's relief.
I slept again till the daylight came, then opened a can of food.
My other would come soon, open the window to let him in.
Prepared, I tidied the kitchen, then went
To let the Self-Image-of-the-Creator in
To sit and breathe with me awhile.
I Slept Past Noon
I slept past noon after driving in late--
No traffic, not much conversation.
Everything had been said, so we travelled
Tired but awake, alert to the routine,
Buoyed by the magic of music from magic devices.
My companion was up early to sing in the choir.
I came out to a day in mid-motion--
Branches, bugs, tufted seed.
Alive with Sparrows
There are white flowers now, bark fallen from limbs,
A few violets; holly bush nearly bare,
A pocket full of apology, and one of hope,
Strength of sunlight against my back.
There are jet planes too, but no bombs yet
Where fine old houses wait, humans pass
Leafless shrubbery alive with sparrows.
Free
Peas, lettuce, radishes, and carrots,
Spinach seed too between disasters;
My sleepy head, face out of focus:
I need a friend to clarify my look,
Make my appearance sharp and effective--
Among the gentle and industrious, one of them,
Free to plant, to water, and to wait.
