Landscapes

Twisted Limbs

Broken lines, broken strings
Broken threads, broken springs,
Broken idols, broken heads,
People sleeping in broken beds.
Ain’t no use jiving,
Ain’t no use joking,
Everything is broken.

Broken bottles, broken plates,
Broken switches, broken gates,
Broken dishes, broken parts,
Streets are filled with broken hearts.
Broken words never meant to be spoken,
Everything is broken.

Seems like every time you stop and turn around
Something else just hit the ground

Broken cutters, broken saws,
Broken buckles, broken laws,
Broken bodies, broken bones,
Broken voices on broken phones
Take a deep breath, feel like you’re chokin’,
Everything is broken.

Every time you leave and go off someplace
Thangs/Things fall to pieces in my face

Broken hands on broken ploughs,
Broken treaties, broken vows,
Broken pipes, broken tools,
People bending broken rules.
Hound dog howling, bull frog croaking,
Everything is broken.

 

   Everything is Broken

 

  Bob Dylan

Hard Road

Out here

On this hard road

 knuckled down by callous wind

  staring back at icy crossroads

still payin’ down the cut and run

 

 you turn up your collar

 wondering

  somewhere

 beyond the thin white horizon

 some redemption lies

 like a crocus in  spring

Apple Box

TREES

by: Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)

  •  
      THINK that I shall never see
      A poem lovely as a tree.
       
      A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
      Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
       
      A tree that looks at God all day,
      And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
       
      A tree that may in Summer wear
      A nest of robins in her hair;
       
      Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
      Who intimately lives with rain.
       
      Poems are made by fools like me,
      But only God can make a tree.

Nearer to God

 

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

 

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

 

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground!   I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

 

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

 

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

 

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.
 

The Waking

by Theodore Roethke

Frozen Dreams

Is it a face or bouquet of flowers
there on the threshold?
In the evening the smooth sound
of that imaginary flute throws everything
into confusion:
people’s voices, cars,
bewitched spirits in the dusk.
The eye goes from window to window:
Behold the leaves and birds,
Behold the lurching trains,
the sounds of the siren, the murmuring,
the frozen dreams in one’s hands

 

  author: Rikardo Arregi Diaz de Heredia

 

    title: Frozen Dreams

Until the End of the World

Havent seen you in quite a while
I was down the hold, just passing time
Last time we met was a low-lit room
We were as close together as bride and groom
We ate the food, we drank the wine
Everybody having a good time
Except you
You were talking about the end of the world

I took the money, I spiked your drink
You miss too much these days if you stop to think
You led me on with those innocent eyes
And you know I love the element of surprise
In the garden I was playing the tart
I kissed your lips and broke your heart
You, you were acting like it was the end of the world

In my dream I was drowning my sorrows
But my sorrows they learned to swim
Surrounding me, going down on me
Spilling over the brim
In waves of regret, waves of joy
I reached out for the one I tried to destroy
You, you said youd wait until the end of the world.

 

   written by  U2 or the film ‘Until the end of the World’ by Wim Wenders

The Pig War

In the summer of 1859 on San Juan Island  in washington State USA there was a confrontation
  between the British and American troops that lead to the longest running border dispute between Great Britain and the fledgling  American country.
    One summer day a boar belonging to an Englishman named Griffin from  Hudson’ Bay’s English EnCampment  proceeded to root through the potato patch of one Mr Cutlar a former gold miner turned farmer and herdsman who resided about one mile north
  in the American Camp.
    Mr. Cutlar summarily shot the boar ,an ensuing dispute began over the value of the replacement of said boar. This escalated to a governmental level
  between the two countries which drew in the  ill feelings regarding a property rights dispute regarding the islands themselves. Hence the name ‘The Pig War’.