The Graduate….

Tonight, Rowan graduates from High School. We had a gathering of friends for him yesterday, and it went nicely. Sweet people, and a wonderful time. My thanks and love go out to you all.
It has been a long haul for the lad, but he came out of it well, finishing on the honor roll and with premiering a one act play this past week that has never been performed in the US… (Picnic on a Battlefield – originally from Spain)
We have been blessed with these last 4 years. It has gone quickly but there is a sweetness to it all.
Life goes swiftly, and so much has occurred… this one is for Rowan, and all that he brings into the world by his presence.
Bright Blessings,

On The Menu:

Rachid Taha – Bara Bara

The Poems of Paul Éluard

Rachid Taha – Rock El Casbah

Rachid Taha – Bara Bara


The Poems of Paul Éluard

She is standing on my lids

And her hair is in my hair

She has the colour of my eye

She has the body of my hand

In my shade she is engulfed

As a stone against the sky
She will never close her eyes

And she does not let me sleep

And her dreams in the bright day

Make the suns evaporate

And me laugh cry and laugh

Speak when I have nothing to say

To Live

We both have our hands to give

Take mine I shall lead you afar
I have lived several times my face has changed

With every threshold I have crossed and every hand clasped Familial springtime was reborn

Keeping for itself and for me its perishable snow

Death and the betrothed

The future with five fingers clenched and letting go
My age always gave me

New reasons for living through others

For having the blood of man other’s heart in mine
Oh the lucid fellow I was and that I am

Before the pallor of frail blind girls

Lovelier than the delicate worn moon so fair

By the reflection of life’s ways

A trail of moss and trees

Of mist and morning dew

Of the young body which does not rise alone

To its place on earth

Wind cold and rain cradle it

Summer makes a man of it
Presences is my virtue in each visible hand

Only death is solitude

From delight to fury from fury to clarity

I make myself whole through all beings

Through all weather on the earth and in the clouds

Through the passing seasons I am young

And strong for having lived

I am young my blood rises over my ruins
We have our hands to entwine Nothing can ever seduce better

Tahn our bonding to each other a forest

Returning earth to sky and the sky to night
To the night which prepares an unending day.


A few grains of dust more or less

On ancient shoulders

Locks of weakness on weary foreheads

This theatre of honey and faded roses

Where incalculable flies

Reply to the black signs that misery makes to them

Despairing girders of a bridge

Thrown across space

Thrown across every street and every house

Heavy wandering madnesses

That we shall end by knowing by heart

Mechanical appetites and uncontrolled dances

That lead to the regret of hatred
Nostalgia of justice

Head Against The Walls

There were only a few of them

In all the earth

Each one thought he was alone

They sang, they were right

To sing

But they sang the way you sack a city

The way you kill yourself.
Frayed moist night

Shall we endure you


Shall we not shake

Your cloacal evidence

We shall not wait for a morning

Made to measure

We wanted to see in other people’s eyes

Their nights of love exhausted

They dream only of dying

Their lovely flesh forgotten

Bees caught in their honey

They are ignorant of life

And we suffer everywhere

Red roofs dissolve under the tongue

Dog days in the full beds

Come, empty your sacks of fresh blood

There is still a shadow here
A shred of imbecile there

In the wind their masks, their cast-offs

In lead their traps, their chains

And their prudent blind-men’s gestures

There is fire under rocks

If you put out the fire

Be careful we have

Despite the night it breeds

More strength than the belly

Of your wives and sisters

And we will reproduce

Without them but by ax strokes

In your prisons
Torrents of stone labors of foam

Where eyes float without rancor

Just eyes without hope

That know you

And that you should have put out

Rather than ignore
With a safety pin quicker than your gibbets

We shall take our booty where we want it to be


Rachid Taha – Rock El Casbah



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