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{sunday} Adam Mead ~ Untitled

[there must be one thing you can’t have in order to be alive] by Jon-Michael Frank

there must be one thing you can’t have in order to be alive  

watching flowers open on youtube  

I mean, my life is wasted on my life 

requirement is simple  

it takes a wound to 

return to yourself  

the new sky  

is the same as the old one 

its achy maw  

its barbwire grip  

people are whatever they are next to 

that won’t remember them 

a dumb desert  

a broken open sign

whatever I love best

reminds me of something else

Happy Sunday.

Carlo Domeniconi – Koyunbaba, Suite for Guitar Op. 19 (Score video)

Carlo Domeniconi (born 20 February 1947) is an Italian guitarist and composer. Although his compositions include a wide variety of genres and instrumentation choices, he is best known for his works for solo guitar, and particularly the Koyunbaba suite. Domeniconi’s style is characterized by his adoption of multicultural influences. His works explore and borrow from a wide variety of national traditions, including Turkish, Indian, Brazilian, and many more. Guitar: Stephanie Jones

*The score shown in the video sometimes can be different to the audio

T. Wendell Peek ~ eclipse

The lunatic is on the grass. 
The lunatic is on the grass. 
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs. 
Got to keep the loonies on the path. 

The lunatic is in the hall. 
The lunatics are in my hall. 
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor 
And every day the paper boy brings more. 

And if the dam breaks open many years too soon 
And if there is no room upon the hill 
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too 
I’ll see you on the dark side of the moon. 

The lunatic is in my head. 
The lunatic is in my head 
You raise the blade, you make the change 
You re-arrange me ’til I’m sane. 
You lock the door 
And throw away the key 
There’s someone in my head but it’s not me. 

And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear 
You shout and no one seems to hear. 
And if the band you’re in starts playing different tunes 
I’ll see you on the dark side of the moon. 

“I can’t think of anything to say except… 
I think it’s marvelous! HaHaHa!” 

All that you touch
And all that you see
All that you taste
All you feel
And all that you love
And all that you hate
All you distrust
All you save
And all that you give
And all that you deal
And all that you buy
Beg, borrow or steal
And all you create
And all you destroy
And all that you do
And all that you say
And all that you eat
And everyone you meet (everyone you meet)
And all that you slight
And everyone you fight
And all that is now
And all that is gone
And all that’s to come
And everything under the sun is in tune
But the sun is eclipsed by the moon

{sunday} Leon Williams ~ Steamed.

Copulation in English by Mohja Kahf

We are going to dip English backward
by its Shakespearean tresses
arcing its spine like a crescent
We are going to rewrite English in Arabic

and all the languages of our blood
We are going to give English the makeover of its lifetime,
darkening the rims of its eyes with Hindi antimony,
making it blush Farsi roses

We are going to make English dizzy
until English vomits its history,
Norman, Saxon, Celtic, down
to its Druid dregs
We won’t stop playing with English
We are the new bullies in the schoolyard
and we like the merry-go-round of nouns and adjectives
and onomatopoetics and objective correlatives

We will bewilder English in the Aramaic of Jesus
Elohim, elohim

We know its biblical heart better than it knows itself
and hold the blades of these lilies of the valley
against its jugular vein

We are going to make English love us
and kiss us and explore us with its tongues
Then we will play hard to get
and English will have to phone
and leave message after message of desire on our machines
English will have to learn what to say to please us:

English has never tasted anything this purple,
seen mangoes this bursting, trickling down its poems,
pomegranates spraying the tart red seeds
over its stories like white linen
English has never smelled cardamom this ecstatic
or breathed rhetoric this thick with love

English will come to us hoarse with the passion
we will have taught English to have
and English will never be the same and will never regret us
Although, after this night of intense copulation,

we may slaughter English in its bed and redeem our honor,
even while pregnant with English’s bastard

Happy Sunday.

One hour of sad cool jazz.

x00:00 The Dave Brubeck Quartet – Fujiyama
05:04 Paul Desmond and Jim Hall – Glad to Be Unhappy
10:52 Bill Evans Trio – In Love in Vain
15:51 Brad Mehldau – Waltz for J.B.
21:56 Benny Green – Summer Nights
26:56 Wayne Shorter – Infant Eyes
33:50 Wynton Marsalis – The Very Thought of You
39:27 Art Pepper – Lost Life
45:25 Duke Ellington – Prelude to a Kiss
50:09 Chet Baker – You Don’t Know What Love Is
55:02 Chet Baker – For All We Know

The Art of iPhonism

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