Songs of the season... I love Mary Chapin Carpenter--have since 1990, when I bought her CD, Shooting Straight in the Dark--though I lost touch with her music for about fifteen years, only rediscovering it about six years ago. She has a definite gift for songwriting, for fusing music and lyric into moments and memories. And heres a piece for New Years Day. As many of you know, New Years (of any variety, Western, Eastern, Northern, Southern) is not my favourite holiday. To put it mildly. Ive posted fairly sharp opinions on the subject in the past, though I must say, Ive mellowed a trifle--a mere trifle. I still, though, feel nothing but anger when I read or hear vapid, copy-paste wishes for health, happiness, success, wealth, blah, blah, blah, frickin blah. Just quit it. Please. Dont wish things for someone unless you can provide said things yourself. If you cant give the person youre wishing a clean bill of health for the coming year, dont wish it for the person. If you cant give the person youre wishing an endless supply of cash, dont wish it for the person. Otherwise, frankly, youre just wasting oxygen. And I still have no use for resolutions--just as Ive no use for getting in shape for a party or a wedding or whatever. One doesnt need an event--and one definitely doesnt need the artificial and arbitrary restarting of a calendar--to do what needs to be done. Just frickin do it! Nevertheless, whenever it might be that we make the decision and commit to change, we do dwell in possibility, the first step on a new path. But nevertheless... Bah! Humbug! _________ New Years Day We are sitting at a table in a bar in Baltimore It’s the last night of December And the room is nearly full And the front door pulls a draft in every time it opens wide And you are telling me a story From another time and life And the waitress brings our order And we’re tucked in mighty close And I feel like we belong among The living and these ghosts And I know that I am dreaming As I memorize each part In the telling lies a reverie In the details lie the heart Like the folds of summer dresses Like the scent upon my wrist Like the way you played guitar Like a boxer punches with his fist And taken or just lost to me It’s better now to say I dwell in possibility On New Year’s Day There’s a jukebox or a bandstand And we’re on another round And the night’s just getting started Or the night’s just winding down And your stories are not clouded yet by the ale Or by the gin They just make me feel as if I’ve known you All my life again Like the folds of summer dresses Like the scent upon my wrist Like the way you played guitar Like a boxer punches with his fist And taken or just lost to me It’s better now to say I dwell in possibility On New Year’s Day And this is what it looked like When we started walking home The night sky bleached to silver Against the city’s bones In dreams or in our waking It’s just enough to say Love and grace and endless flowers Be ours on New Year’s Day And the folds of summer dresses And the bangles on my wrist And the way you played guitar Like a boxer punches with his fist And taken or just lost to us It’s better now to say We dwell in possibility On New Year’s Day youtube/watch?v=bZsq24uSnx8
Posted on: Thu, 01 Jan 2015 05:00:43 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015