Thursday, August 18, 2011

Prayer of an Alien Soul

O Center of the Scheme
Star-Flinger, Beauty-Bring, Shaping Dream!
Now as the least in all thy space I stand
An alien in a strange and lonesome land.
I lift a little voice of pigmy pain;
I hurl it out - up - down - and shall I cry in vain?
Hear thou the prayer that struggles in this song-
Let me not linger long!

I crave the boon of dying into life!
Extend a pitying knife
And let these flesh-gyves part, let me be free!
Are we not kin? Am I not part of Thee?
Am I not a ripple in a cranny of Thy Sea?
What part have I in sequent wretched eyes,
Bleer dawns, dull noons and the budding and the falling
      of leaves?
Why must I drag this chain of years,
Long rusted-red with tears?
Why must I crawl when I have wings to fly?
Behold thy child - The Winged One - it is I!
Was I not made to sing?
Yet here I lisp and twang on one unbroken string!

At times here in the dust
I lift my head, I strive to sing - I must!
The miracle of growing wraps me round
Light! Sound!
Form! Motion! Upward yearning! Outward reaching!
A universal praying, dumb beseeching!
I feel that I am more than flesh and futile,
A being ultra-carnal, super-brutal!
I understand these growing green beseechers,
These hopeful climbers and these ernest reachers!
I understand their yearnings every one,
How each tense fiber hungers for the sun!
I lay my hand upon the sturdy weed
Whose darkling purposes burst the prison-seed,
Who cleft the mud and took its light and dew,
Looked up, reached out, believe in life - and grew!
I know that we are kin;
That hope is virtue and doubt is sin;
And o'er me comes a hungering for a song:
I lift my voice - I falter.  Ah the long
Dumb years, the aching nights and days!
And yet I raise
My unavailing cacophonic cry.
Thine erstwhile singing child - behold! - Tis I!

In this strange, wretched prison of the soul
Shall I not lose my swiftness for the Goal?
It seems I must
At length become too much the kin of Dust.
Ah me, the fever born of Hate and Lust!
Ah me, the senseless unmelodic din!
Ah me, the soul-hope sick with fleshly sin!

And in my prison ancient dreams grow up
To fill with dust my cracked and thirst-betraying cup.
Dreams mantled in the purple of dead glory
That filled the aeons of human story:
Not always have I worn these dusty rags!

The Purpose of my being falters, lags,
And I am sick, sick, sick to live again.
Yet not because of this poor dust-born pain
Do I cry and grope about for Thee.
I hear the far cry of my Destiny.
Whose meaning sings beyond the farthest sun.
I faint in these red chains - O let me 'rise and run!

How long shall leaves grow green and fade and fall,
How long shall Night chase Day and Day flee Night,
How long shall my far Purpose vainly call
Ere I remingle with my native light?
O Center of the Scheme,
Star-Flinger, Beauty-Bringer, Shaping Dream!
Hear thou the prayer that struggles in this song-
Let me not linger long.

- John G Neihardt

Wednesday, August 17, 2011


Okay, so I'm gonna rave. Because every so often I feel some things need to be raved about. I am somewhat obsessive in my interests. Okay, a lot obsessive. I can't even imagine what people like me did before the Internet because I love to feed my obsessions with the bread crumb trail that is the Internet. And along this lovely bread crumb trail, I found some interesting things about a particular person about whom I feel the need to rave. This person is Adele. She's like Rihanna. I don't know (or even really care) what her last name is.

The first reason Adele is rave worthy is because is she is a talent. She is not "talented", she is a talent. There is a difference. I guess I feel talented people are like me. They "can" sing. People who are talents are like Adele where it seems like God made her to be what she is. She can sing, she can write song lyrics and music and she can preform. The talents are the combination that is too much to be coincidence. The talented just got one or some other to console them in their otherwise ordinary lives.

I love her voice. I love the power and control she has. She can actually sing, which is not a prerequisite for musicians in Hollywood, or so it would seem. I feel it is generally agreed that there is no one else like Adele. There just isn't. Deal with it. 

She waves her hands in the air while she sings. People who move while they play the piano or sing have a special place in my heart. Like they feel the music and they just can't stand still because they love it and they need it and when you're around them you can't help but feel it too.

Another thing- she's heavier. She doesn't look like a model. She's actually kind of fat. And I think she's drop dead gorgeous. She has a double chin and I think it's beautiful. I guess I kind of see her as one of those people who is lit up from the inside. Like her body knows that it carries an extraordinary soul inside and she shines with the confidence that comes from knowing who the heck you are.

I love Rolling in the Deep. It's been massively overplayed resulting in mass hatred towards the song. (Why do radio station murder songs like that any way? It's just appalling.) She describes it as her being like "I'm going to be fine without you." There's this fire in her heart and she certainly not her ballad about sitting on the couch crying with a tub of Ben and Jerry's in hand. Heck to the no. And yet it also has a healthy dose of appreciation for all the hopes she had... they had so much potential, they could have had it all and been rolling in the deep, for heavens sake. I guess it's a healing song to me. She's not over him, but she's getting there. It's tinged with pain and regret, but it's also powerful and hopeful in a way.

I also love Someone Like You. This is her "I am so not over you and I don't think I ever will be." song. I mean, the song is about her still not being over him after he has completely moved on. Like, wedding rings and offspring moved on. I don't know how much farther you can move on than that. I think that's universally the most tragic thing that can happen. Still loving someone when they no longer love you. It makes you doubt all the things you thought were true... doubt that you were ever loved. If he did love her, wouldn't it have worked out? How do you have that much love in a relationship and not have it work out? And then it gets worse. (Seriously. How much worse can it GET?) She asks him not to forget her. This is the part where I just wanna bawl my eyes out. "Hey, I know you've got this lovely wife and kids and everything and pretty much haven't thought of me in years until I showed up, but don't forget me... okay?" It's the heinous indignity of love.

So. Why Adele? She's a poet, a talent and a queen among woman. You look at her and you don't doubt that she has been places and done things with her sad doe eyes and a voice with so much joy and agony trapped within it. She has dignity and presence and down to earth- the kind of person that you can see drinking coffee and wearing sweat pants instead of a posh celebrity like Paris Hilton or Lady Gaga. I err in m judgement a lot, but I don't think I'm wrong about Adele. There is something real about her. She's special... just listen to her.

Friday, August 12, 2011


Perhaps there will be more time for this in a time where time does not exist.
I have no time to open closed doors, I will not go there anymore
It is too hard for me to see the people that we used to be
I loved you but you loved me not and love again, my heart cannot
Perhaps I knew you once before, but I do not know you anymore.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011