song, where are you?

 

This was written on the train between Famalicão and Braga. I had a period of writing poems where the form was defined by the duration of this journey, which is a journey that I really love. 25 mins duration, beautiful minho landscape, and sexy passengers to dream about when neglected by the muse. I would write the poem, in a frenzy, during the train ride. And then polish it up at home afterwards. So, condensed energy. That was the form. The subject is Song. Of course.

 

Song, where are you?

Are you the morning melody on the tip of a blackbird’s tongue?

Are you the happiness that fills a silent room?

Where do you wait song, when I wait for you?

 

 Song, you are ancestor, deep and wide.

The ancient sound of suffering confronting joy;

You are as vast as Notre Dame.

You are a choir in the Sistine chapel,

Hold the history of ancient Greece and ancient Rome in your soul,

Sing the Lord in polyphonic refrain.

 

 You are Apollo full of grace and light!

 

 You are the Velvet Underground and John Cale’s viola,

The strange tale of Waldo Jeffers and The Gift,

The Memory of a Free Festival.

You are Orpheus stilling the Gods.

 You were my consolation in teenage heartbreak,

You made my mother so happy when you returned to my bedroom!

The weeks of silence renounced, my turntable started spinning:

 

Be my woman girl; I’ll be your man

Be my woman girl; I’ll be your man

Be my woman girl; I’ll be your man

Every Sunday dollar in your hand…

 

Song, I love you.

 

I love your A-sides which are like the conscious mind and hit bound,

And the unconscious world of the B-side, all art and experimental;

The workshop and soul of the A.

 

Song you are magic!!

 

You are trance lost to the glory of the stars!!

 

Incantation, the loop of Om, plainsong;

A vehicle to transport the soul from dark to light.

Song! You are aural alchemy, seduction and desire:

You are Marilyn Monroe in her prime

Naked through chiffon, impossibly perfect.

 

You are rail-tracks and hobos,

Freight trains and stories of hardship and loss:

Come to me song, embrace me now

Take me into your power, transform me,

I’m ready to walk into the deep lucid mind of song

I’m ready now song

I’m coming home to you, song,

I’m coming home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In July 2009 I was very fortunate to start an Artistic Residency in the Monastery of Tibães. I will be there until Spring 2010 at least, working steadily on my new album, and several other ideas that orbit around the album itself. This will include photography and film, performance and art installation – all kinds of stuff.

I will be having a lot of friends around helping out with recording, and playing instruments, taking the photos and filming and stuff. So this blog will serve as a document of all things monastic – my reflections and thoughts about the residency, and the work in general. It may include ruminations about creativity itself – but all of this is meant to be a conversation really. So please come around, read, praise, cajole me, and get involved in this magical wee (virtual) world I’m creating. You never know, it might lead to tea in the (real) cloisters one day.