Tag Archives: dawn

Wake Up: sonetto rispetto

Wake up! The dawn is rapping at the shutters!
There is no time to lose, nor waste away;
you must begin to clear out all this clutter
that gives you an excuse to sleep all day.

Believe this: if the end is really coming,
you won’t hear marching feet or feel the drumming.
Defeat will slip in silent, like a thief.
Your struggle will be pointless and kept brief.

Remember that you asked for this convenience:
demanding automation of all things,
expecting everything be had for free.

Forgive the mindless drones; they know no lenience,
nor any song except the one they sing.
You know the words: we wrote them, you and me.

01 JUN 2017

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Morning Breath: awdl gywydd

Through the mist of dawn it slips,
on its lips a whispered sigh
that echoes through the damp air.
Almost not quite there, it flies

between the slow waking trees
whose rough knees, still stiff with night,
begin their conversation, too –
with morning’s blue everywhere.

11 JAN 2017

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At Dawn: alba or aubade

At dawn
the mist still lingers on the lawn:
the shortening shade, like Avalon,
seeks wisps of cloud to linger on
but soon surrenders, and is gone.

At dawn
the world, by inches, cracks its eyes:
and in the place of lullabies
begins to sound the hue and cry,
its hustle-bustle of disguise.

At dawn
the sweet and tender touch of light
begins the slow ascent of sight
and sends to shadows, warm and bright,
the last reminders of the night.

At dawn
again, I hear the sigh
of breathing, gentle and nearby,
and thank the earth and sea and sky
for life and love and you and I.

05 JAN 2017

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New Day: a choka

A new day is born:
look, how the world starts again;
its still form awakes
from an evening’s slumber
and shakes the sleep from its eyes.

In the quiet hours
before its hum becomes roar,
the whole of life breathes:
a low, gentle rush of air
that fills creation anew.

28 APR 2011

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At Dawn When I Awoke

At dawn, when I awoke, the rain
was but a mist that damped the lawn;
and then its whitewash strength increased
to rinse the night, ’til it was gone.

Its purpose served, it too then waned,
as greys began to blue
and dried the puddles left behind
to just a drop or two.

Yet on the breeze I taste it still —
its cool and fragrant kiss,
that lingers in the morning air;
good days begin like this.

The wrens, at first asleep, or shy,
now venture from their shade
and low, take up their favorite tune
and start to promenade.

07 DEC 2004

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Time Out in the Morning

Some people like Mozart in the morning to get their brains going (at least, that’s one of the prevailing theories, that in particular Mozart’s quartets and quintets are counterpoint that causes your neurons to fire in an order conducive to enhanced synapse activity – on a par with getting a processor accelerator for your PC, which is what the brain is, albeit its artificial intelligence we as OEM installations tend to think is less artificial than other types of intelligence). Oh, how I go on …

Anyway, while some prefer Mozart, I think it’s essential to swing a little early on, and yet find something that will jerk you (gently, of course, it is the butt-crack of dawn) out of your alpha-state. For this delicate task, I have found there is nothing better than a little Dave Brubeck – in particular, his quartet’s classic albums Time Out and Time Further Out. The former, of course, is almost immediately recognizable; the latter is more than more of the same, and I in particular like the Maori-influenced selections. Not quite as culturally-savant as, say, Jazz Impressions of Japan … when I saw Bru in 1994, he and his current group played some selections from that overlooked gem … quite wonderful indeed.

Something is missing from the stereophonic records of the present … something that, if you listen to older rock records, and most jazz from the 50’s and 60’s, you’ll find in spades. That is, of course, STEREO separation. Different instruments on the right and the left, without bleed over; you know, the kind of recordings where if your left car speaker is out, you don’t hear half the tune (only, for example, the “spangle-lang” of Elvin Jones without the cascading sheets of ‘Trane). The Beatles albums had this wonderful feature; most great psychedelic era bands knew how to use it (although not always judiciously). It gives your brain something to think about, separate chunks to process, different paths to interact with. And there is, as a result of this ONLY REASON TO RECORD IN STEREO, something that is so definitely, desparately and sadly lacking from most modern recordings — space.

Oh, but I digress (actually, how can it be a digression when it is the tangent that is more satisfying than the main course) …

Morning, ya’ll…

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