Search

Joseph E Bird

Let's talk about reading, writing and the arts.

Tag

songs

carnival dreams

you said you’d be pleased
to walk by my side
to breathe the night air
maybe go for a ride

so we walk down the shore
toward the music and light
with your hand in mine
feeling good, feeling right

then we stop for a drink
sipping cola on ice
and watch the wheel roll
and a toss of the dice

the carousel goes ’round
with the kids holding tight
never wanting to fall
but knowing they might.

*

and we’re walking the midway
the music is playing
and I’m wishing tomorrow
that you would be staying

my time here with you
is not what it seems
everything that I hope for
is a carnival dream

*

the smell of food fills the air
and it’s prodding my hunger
and your laugh fills my ear
makes me wish I was younger

i’d ask you to stay
to let go of tomorrow
let’s chart our own course
we’ll beg, steal, or borrow.

but our time is just this
cotton candy this eve
a quick kiss goodnight
and then you will leave

i’ll awake all alone
in the morning’s first light
and remember our time
in the carnival night

*

and we’re walking the midway
the music is playing
and I’m wishing tomorrow
that you would be staying

but my time here with you
is not what it seems
everything that I hope for
is a carnival dream


copyright 2018, joseph e bird
.

simple desires

I want to have pride
like my mother has.

And not like the kind in the Bible
that turns you bad.

I want to have friends
that I can trust.

Who love me for the man I’ve become,
and not the man I was.


copyright Robert Crawford/Scott Avett/Timothy Avett, from the song The Perfect Space

First Aid Kit

Here’s how these things work in the ultra-connected world of blogging.

A couple of weeks ago I posted an audio video of my cousin’s 1968 recording of his song Heather Girl. Across the pond, fellow runner and music lover Saoirse listened to Heather Girl and asked if I had ever heard First Aid Kit.  Good timing on her question. Yesterday they were on CBS This Morning.

Thanks, Saoirse.

she sings

she sings
a soulful song
in a minor key
of trials
and overcoming
and faith
and perseverance.

she sings
and reads
the music
with her fingers
as her guide
sits dutifully
at her feet.

she sings
and her voice
is strong
and her spirit
is strong
and her will
is strong.

she sings
and we marvel,
as if singing
while blind
gives her
special grace
to share.

she sings
and she is
ours
and she is
always there
to sing
for us.

but

she sings
no more
and great
is her pain
and lonely
are her days
in darkness.

she sings
no more
and friends
talk with her
and friends
pray with her
and be with her.

she sings
no more
but she
will have faith
and will persevere
and will overcome
and she will sing.

she sings
and we will
lift her up
and we will
thank our God
for every
remembrance.

she sings
and she
will always
sing
and bring joy
to all
who hear.


copyright 2017, joseph e bird

 

The cabaret was quiet, except for the drilling in the wall.

Remember when you used to sit and listen to music with your headphones on, the 12″ x 12″ album cover in your hands as you went track to track? You’d be mesmerized by the cover art. You’d study the liner notes. You’d follow along if the lyrics were printed on the cover. After a few days, you’d know every song by heart.

No. Most of you don’t remember because that was before your time.

But back to our story.

The festival was over. The boys were planning for a fall.

Something’s up. Then we’re introduced to the ringleader.

He was standing in the doorway, looking like the Jack of Hearts.

Back in the golden age of vinyl, songs didn’t have be under three minutes. And everyone knew that serious music, serious songs, ran at least five minutes. Those were the songs you never wanted to end. American Pie comes to mind.  Chicago’s Ballet for a Girl from Buchannon ran a glorious thirteen minutes.

Backstage the girls were playing five card stud by the stairs.
Lily drew two queens, she was hoping for a third to match her pair.

It was always best if you were alone. Total absorption into the music.

Big Jim was no one’s fool, he owned the town’s only diamond mine.

If you wanted to hear a track again, you’d have to wait. You can’t (or shouldn’t) pick up the tone arm and place the stylus in the same groove that had just played. You’d risk distorting the vinyl and degrading the sound quality. You had to let the grooves cool.

Rosemary combed her hair and took a carriage into town.

You had to let the grooves cool.

You couldn’t wait to play the song again, but you had to. Made you want to hear it that much more.

The hanging judge came in unnoticed and was being wined and dined.
The drilling in the wall kept up, but no one seemed to pay it any mind.

And those songs would tell a story as good as anything you ever read in a book. No music videos, you had to paint the scene in your head. You were the casting agent, the set and costume designer, the director. It was all yours. You just had to follow along.

The story I’ve been telling is a Bob Dylan classic, Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts, more than eight minutes long.  It had hidden in my memory until it came up on my Pandora station during a four-hour trip yesterday. It’s a great driving song.

I won’t tell you what happens.  If you want to know, click the link below. But wait until you can listen without distraction.  It’s just better that way.

She was thinking about her father, who she very rarely saw.
She was thinking about Rosemary, she was thinking about the law.
But most of all, she was thinking about the Jack of Hearts.

 

 

Savannah

new york

you want to be
where the lights are so bright

where life lives on
through the night

and songs fill your heart
with delight

oh Savananh
is that where you’ve gone
my Savannah
i’ll see you at dawn

carolina

i know the sand
and the beaches call for you

the warm sunshine
and soft breezes, too

a time to reflect
and renew

oh Savananh
is that where you’ve gone
my Savannah
i’ll see you at dawn

i’ll pack my bags and be on my way
drive all night and into the day
grab some coffee, put gas in the car
if i could find out where you are

california

where dreamers go to find
what might be

and watch the sun set
by the sea

leave their troubles behind
and be free

oh Savananh
is that where you’ve gone
my Savannah
i’ll see you at dawn

i’ll pack my bags and be on my way
drive all night and into the day
grab some coffee, put gas in the car
if i could find out where you are


copyright 2017, joseph e bird

when you’re here

when you’re here
the world becomes so quiet
and we just can’t deny it
we’re meant for evermore

your voice
sounds like an angel choir
and takes me so much higher
than i ever could before

since you
found me
on that day

,

your touch
sends my heart to racing
when we are embracing
my feelings i can’t hide

please smile
and i’ll know that together
no storm we can not weather
if you’ll be by my side

since you
found me
on that day
,

so stay
we’ll laugh beneath the moonlight
and dance until the daylight
falls gently on your smile

we’ll live
and think not of tomorrow
when parting brings our sorrow
let’s love a little while

,

since you
found me
on that day

your love
is with me
every day


copyright 2017, joseph e bird

the girl from the bakery

tripping down the sidewalk
in the lower part of town
going to the guitar store
my e-string’s come unwound

a tune is humming in my head
for words i’ve yet to write
and then i see you through the glass
all dressed in bakers white

ohhh mercy sakes alive
look what you’ve gone and done
my breathing don’t come easy
when i see you making buns

i slow my steps and strain to look
without giving it a thought
i see you, and you see me
i know that i’ve been caught

maybe i should walk on by
be a gentleman this day
the heck with that, i’ll take a chance
this boy, he came to play

ohhh mercy sakes alive
you be messing with my head
i don’t think i can stand it
when I see you knead the bread

your hair is pulled back in a net
there’s flour everywhere
you glance at me and roll the dough
i barely take in air

you got that look that speaks to me
and yeah, i speak to you
together we can bake all day
have our cake, and it eat, too

ohhh mercy sakes alive
when the rolls comes from the oven
my legs are weak, can’t wait to eat,
but it’s you, oh girl, i’m lovin’


copyright 2017, joseph e bird


Editor’s Note: In his Noble Prize acceptance speech, Bob Dylan said his work is meant to be sung, that it’s not complete as a simple rhyming poem.  Same here with my so-called songs. Of course I ain’t no Robert Zimmerman, but I am, in fact, fooling around with music for these little ditties. Someday I may present them as fully imagined. Probably not, but you never know.

Probably not.

He came to me, this poor man.
Poor in the sense of having nothing.
He was dirty.
His pants were ripped.
He was ashamed of his appearance.
He was ashamed of his life.
I wish I could say he was rich in other ways.
But no. Probably not.

Another stopped me on the elevator.
He studied my face, as if he knew me.
His mind had betrayed him.
It was why he was there, in this hospital.
Reality had left him long ago.
Then he knew. I was Stevie Ray Vaughn.
You might think that such folly is liberating.
But no. Probably not.

A woman on the sidewalk
Said she needed some money.
Fifteen dollars for the bus pass.
Not just the spare change pitch.
She seemed sincere, if a little desperate.
She got her fifteen dollars.
And fifteen minutes in prayer.
It could just be another con job.
But no. Probably not.

Do my pennies make me rich?
Do your dollars make you poor?
Who is wise and who is foolish?
Do we know the way of truth?
Are you righteous in your mind?
Does evil stain your thoughts?
One could say that all is vanity.
But no. Probably not.


copyright 2017, joseph e bird


Note:  These are true stories, and it pleases me to tell of the kindness that others have shown to those in need.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑