Wednesday, October 27, 2010

KBYD October 27, 2010

Playlist:

Gebbie Street - DZ
You Are My Sunshine - Ray Charles
Waikiki 71 - Myth & Tropics
One Man Brawl - I Am Kloot
Homeless with a Smile - Death To The Strange
Frozen Heart - Smoke Fairies
Radio Waves - O. Children
Everybody Does It - Little Volcanoes
I Know What I Am - Band of Skulls
For Your Love - The Yardbirds
Hot Smoke and Sasafrass - BubblePuppy
Journal of ardency - Class Actress
L.A.F.S - I Am Austin
You Taste Like the Tropics - Bush Tetras
Afuera - Jaguares

Show archive [mixcloud.com]


Poems:

THE CANONIZATION.
John Donne

FOR God's sake hold your tongue, and let me love ;
Or chide my palsy, or my gout ;
  My five gray hairs, or ruin'd fortune flout ;
With wealth your state, your mind with arts improve ;
    Take you a course, get you a place,
Observe his Honour, or his Grace ;
Or the king's real, or his stamp'd face
    Contemplate ; what you will, approve,
    So you will let me love.

Alas ! alas ! who's injured by my love?
What merchant's ships have my sighs drown'd?
  Who says my tears have overflow'd his ground?
When did my colds a forward spring remove?
When did the heats which my veins fill
Add one more to the plaguy bill?
Soldiers find wars, and lawyers find out still
Litigious men, which quarrels move,
Though she and I do love.

Call's what you will, we are made such by love ;
    Call her one, me another fly,
    We're tapers too, and at our own cost die,
And we in us find th' eagle and the dove.
        The phoenix riddle hath more wit
      By us ; we two being one, are it ;
So, to one neutral thing both sexes fit.
  We die and rise the same, and prove
Mysterious by this love.

We can die by it, if not live by love,
    And if unfit for tomb or hearse
  Our legend be, it will be fit for verse ;
And if no piece of chronicle we prove,
  We'll build in sonnets pretty rooms ;
      As well a well-wrought urn becomes
The greatest ashes, as half-acre tombs,
And by these hymns, all shall approve
  Us canonized for love ;

And thus invoke us, "You, whom reverend love
  Made one another's hermitage ;
You, to whom love was peace, that now is rage ;
Who did the whole world's soul contract, and drove
    Into the glasses of your eyes ;
    So made such mirrors, and such spies,
That they did all to you epitomize—
Countries, towns, courts beg from above
A pattern of your love."


William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
      COMPOSED UPON WESTMINSTER BRIDGE, SEPT. 3, 1802
        Written on the roof of a coach, on my way to France.

    EARTH has not anything to show more fair:
  Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
  A sight so touching in its majesty:
  This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
 Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
  Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
 Never did sun more beautifully steep
 In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
  Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
  The river glideth at his own sweet will:
 Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!


The Rock in the Sea
Archibald MacLeish

Think of our blindness where the water burned!
Are we so certain that those wings, returned
And turning, we had half discerned
Before our dazzled eyes had surely seen
The bird aloft there, did not mean?—
Our hearts so seized upon the sign!

Think how we sailed up-wind, the brine
Tasting of daphne, the enormous wave
Thundering in the water cave—
Thunder in stone. And how we beached the skiff
And climbed the coral of that iron cliff
And found what only in our hearts we’d heard—
The silver screaming of that one, white bird:
The fabulous wings, the crimson beak
That opened, red as blood, to shriek
And clamor in that world of stone,
No voice to answer but its own.

What certainty, hidden in our hearts before,
Found in the bird its metaphor?

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