Haiku: ‘Memory’

Photo by Thirdman on Pexels.com

Forty years ago
Time does not remove the pain
Where are our heroes?

Copyright Francis 2020

Steely Dan: Pick a Song — Ticket 2 Ride

https://youtube.com/watch?v=-jtqDbH4a3E%3Fversion%3D3%26rel%3D1%26fs%3D1%26autohide%3D2%26showsearch%3D0%26showinfo%3D1%26iv_load_policy%3D1%26wmode%3Dtransparent

Pick one song from each album and list why. I accept that challenge. Let’s roll. Can’t Buy a Thrill – “Do It Again” gets the nod. Some have called this a strong Latin beat, the percussion obviously drives this song and provides the framework for the electric piano and expressive guitar solos. The album […]

via Steely Dan: Pick a Song — Ticket 2 Ride

The unappreciated greatness of Steely Dan — Why Evolution Is True (Reblob)

The article below just appeared in the Boston Globe, written by Ty Burr, and it’s about how some young people are coming to appreciate the music of their elders, which they call “dad rock”. Oy! Click on the screenshot to read: The intro: One of the more satisfying cheap thrills that comes with getting old […]

via The unappreciated greatness of Steely Dan — Why Evolution Is True

Poem ‘Subliminal’

Subliminal

They put it up on billboards.
It made the headlines,
the tickers scrolling in Times Square
and TV screens back home.

It was like hearsay going viral,
became banal talking points
in satellite drivel,
a tsunami of information
which hid the pearl of truth.

This notion that everyone
who has ever lived
could be alive again today,
our eight billions souls
matching totals for the past;
all of us primed, exposed
for some terrible judgement.

How many saw the subliminal flash,
I’m not sure;
reputedly like an ad,
the split second image of cola
that wets your thirst,
though not on screens – in the sky.
A judgement? No ceremony, no glitz,
no alarming lord riding the clouds.

But word quickly got around,
between lines of copy,
in the things not said.
Tickers in Times Square
stuttered, then stopped;
people draining away
like water down plug holes.
Wi-fi was gone,
it’s just something else
we can’t grasp in the air.
The only tickers now
are the clocks, our watches,
while we keep one eye
on the sky

poem and image © copyright df barker 2012