A few videos and some poetry around the world of rock music. A break from the trance, and world. Some of my favourites, I hope you enjoy,
Blessings
Gwyllm
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The Linkage:
8th Circuit upholds ban on in-class Bible distribution
A Boycott Of Israel: Something Has Changed
Out-of-body experience recreated
Druids and witches honour executed girls spirit
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Music Videos That I like….
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club-Weapon Of Choice
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Some of our Local Heroes….
The Dandy Warhols- Bohemian like You
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Wonderful Sense of Humour….
The Flaming Lips – Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots [Live]
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BRMC again. Great Band!
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club – We’re All in Love
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Poetry: Jim Carroll
Paregoric Babies
Clocks blue seconds fold over me
slow as swamp dreams I feel
heavy like metal shade pre-dawn thickness
I sit
in my chair of nods shivering
from a sickness I took years to perfect
dark paddling in the wave membrane
the moneky woman’s dream steams
are places of shy creatures, head infants
I had born on a whim and abandoned…my eye
drips the strain in the sweet March air, frozen
pure as my blood refuses to flow…
stilled, sweat that shines the breath of my poem
—
Fear And Trembling
To play Segovia
upon waking
is the highest I
might ever aspire to might
even shoot down the pain
dreams these hands
shake colorless they
can’t foreget and
in that way just can’t defend
sun stirred
in coffee
by condensed air spoons
and
on the bathroom floor on the porcelain there
blue blood
from the terrace the reservoir
evaporates in the violet tubes of
morning air, chokes miniature landscapes…
none of these processes fail me
only the flower
too distant to imagine even…
though you sleep through…
sunken eyes radiate the bed
empties the frost
from the bars and windows
pouting torn bending image
I watch the children you breathe dissolve
I see the plain girl the plain print gown
then I figured out what was real
blue blood
remember? I noticed the morning and its sound
I noticed the scar
on your wrist as
the palms rise
to catch each tear
—
The Blue Pill
I took the blue pill this morning
I got new angles on the trees across the driveway
Timmie the bear
does his little roll on the rug
and at night
a sound gathers the tiny ambulances
from their homes
it is distant and hollow
a little like the sound
of a perfetly tuned ocarina.
—
Love Poem (Later)
for Rise
The little bonus
of my hand on your breast
makes a bus seem so useful
when some rain begins to open.
then cloud waves cracked sun shafts
when the sky began to whistle
and I was thinking about it all night
just watching it move from my eye to my hand.
it’s not very meaningless
the changes one makes lying down
it’s almost the way a mountain feels
when it becomes a star