The Cross Over of A Gregorian Chant and AC/DC?

The Cross Over of A Gregorian Chant and AC/DC?

The fact that they “hated” punk tells me that they are punk rockers. Punk rockers typically don’t traffic in half-hearted opinions. What could be more punk that to hate punk?

But if you are a music lover, it’s good to move above and beyond genres and just listen. If it sounds good to you, then it’s good music. And it’s also fun to try to figure out why you think all the things that sound good to you are similar.

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Poetry about Texas

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Poetry about Texas

This short book is a Texan’s reflections on home through the lens of T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets; or reflections on Four Quartets through the lens of Texas. It is available on Amazon for $6.99.

“Jagged, hopeful men 

High on the dream of independence declared

At Washington-on-the-Brazos

Built and built again

A hardscrabble Capitol of whiskey-breath 

Poker games and livestock

By the dusky molten bronze River

Singing low, they dug deep”

Excerpts from Four Texas Quartets:

“It is told by our Storytellers

That before the age of barbed wire 

A steer driven from deep down in Texas as far as Kansas 

Would sometimes turn around 

Walk back along the trail and eventually 

Arrive where he started”

A Thought or Two on Sailing Beyond The Sunset

A Thought or Two on Sailing Beyond The Sunset

Sailing Beyond The Sunset is, for me, a complete poetic experience. It contains my memories, as illuminated by the poets who have guided me and helped me to see: Blake, Tennyson, BH Fairchild and always, above all, Eliot. And then my little attempt to bring it all together in a way that is fitting for me, but hopefully, also, accessible to others. I have no idea if the latter part of that is successful. But I am very satisfied with the first part.

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Reflecting on Postscript by Seamus Heaney and Leaving Tulsa by Jennifer Foerster

Reflecting on Postscript by Seamus Heaney and Leaving Tulsa by Jennifer Foerster

I’ve been blessed to see wild swans in County Sligo, Ireland with my four-year old daughter.  She was four at the time. I thought then of Yeats’ wild swans at Coole, of course, but that was before I had read this poem by Heaney.  Certainly Heaney is in every way Yeats’ successor. I think other poets of lesser stature would think twice before mentioning wild swans, just out of deference to the great Yeats?  On that same trip, we also saw wild river salmon, jumping upstream. You have to be patient, of course, but my four-year-old was, and these are the moments that can, as the poet says, blow your heart wide open

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