Friday, 2 February 2007

Battle of Evermore

This one's for you, Steve

Led Zeppelin IV 1971

"Battle of Evermore"

Queen of Light took her bow
And then she turned to go,
The Prince of Peace embraced the gloom
And walked the night alone.

Oh, dance in the dark of night,
Sing to the morn-ing light.
The dark Lord rides in force tonight
And time will tell us all.

Oh, throw down your plow and hoe,
Rest not to lock your homes.
Side by side we wait the might
Of the darkest of them all.

I hear the horses' thunder
Down in the valley below,
I'm waiting for the angels of Avalon,
Waiting for the eastern glow.

The apples of the valley hold
The seeds of happiness,
The ground is rich from tender care,
Repay, do not forget, no, no.
Oh, dance in the dark of night,
Sing to the morning light.

The apples turn to brown and black,
The tyrant's face is red.

Oh the war is common cry,
Pick up your swords and fly.
The sky is filled with good and bad
That mortals never know.

Oh, well, the night is long
The beads of time pass slow,
Tired eyes on the sunrise,
Waiting for the eastern glow.

The pain of war cannot exceed
The woe of aftermath,
The drums will shake the castle wall,
The ringwraiths ride in black,
Ride on.

Sing as you raise your bow,
Shoot straighter than before.
No comfort has the fire at night
That lights the face so cold.

Oh dance in the dark of night,
Sing to the mornin' light.
The magic runes are writ in gold
To bring the balance back.
Bring it back.

At last the sun is shining,
The clouds of blue roll by,
With flames from the dragon of darkness
The sunlight blinds his eyes.


Desiree, from 'Only a Movie' Family, 1973.

Seam Crooked Sam, a poem, by Don Van Vliet

Seam Crooked Sam

The mule kicked off a new one
and the stockings ran up Seam Crooked Sam
bandana frock stuffed with smoke
and ears out flopped like bowlin' pins
hog troughs hocked and wallered in cool mud bins
and patent leather hooves
split in twos
rooms for rent down t' Ben's
Frendsa danced in a frenzy
choked a juke bird with froth glass ferns
and turpentine urns her sawdust daily keep
and whiskey creeps down her neck naked front
and red leatherette
peen button set where her fanny sweat
raised her wrist-a-fan and a mouse coughed cotton
through a screen door cracked sand
rooms rent only to friends
Hat Rack Hotel
architecture tincture of red Arkies pinched the southern belle
and splayed his cracked nail hand
grey fedora - snappy band
and the camel walls yelluh like damp dead chickens
beak down the hard wood floor
and the music - O the music
harp man blew his best lung white shirt
his feet worked like a monkey out the door
and Dora robbed a baby through a dark bebop
licorice lenses fogged in hot sorrow
through the floorboards at the general store
yuh foods still in the hot hand oven
apple pie cooked through a seed bruised stem eye
sticky in the window of Momma Frame Broke
rope bell dinglin'
"Children, I won't call yuh once more."

By the painter and poet once known as Captain Beefheart,
Who deserves more recognition as a poet.

Pink floyd, San Tropez

A languid ballad from Meddle, 1971, -Just peachy.

Time for a Work-Out

Red Rose Pictures present a film by Mitchell Rose
This team's short movies combine dance, grace, pathos, and humour: Poetry in motion