tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post6988411897382786102..comments2024-01-28T03:56:39.351-08:00Comments on TOM CLARK: Safe -- For Now (Temporary Respite) Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-80116769524889868672013-06-18T05:45:30.240-07:002013-06-18T05:45:30.240-07:00Many thanks friends, this is Old Time now.
Hazen,...Many thanks friends, this is Old Time now.<br /><br />Hazen, personal was how it was and is meant, my brother.<br /><br />This part of the Hopkins brought by Daniel, the blest native son, brings us back to beginnings, where hope used to lay:<br /><br />The world is charged with the grandeur of God.<br /> It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;<br /> It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil<br />Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?<br />Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;<br /> And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;<br /> And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil<br />Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.<br /><br />But now in the hour before the dawn, when things are darkest, where O where has that warm-breasted bird flown, now in the hour of our need, when we call out from the valley of despond and only the spooks seem to be monitoring, from the dread tech corridors of the East, with their cowardly ratfink encrypted searches.<br /><br />And for all this, nature is never spent;<br /> There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;<br />And though the last lights off the black West went<br /> Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —<br />Because the Holy Ghost over the bent<br /> World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.<br /><br />Daniel, I too have been memorizing a poem these past few nights. It has a bronze bell and a black horse in it, and it speaks from the universality of suffering, straight to the shattered heart. More about that soon, insh'Allah.TChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05915822857461178942noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-10347916156700424652013-06-17T10:10:45.739-07:002013-06-17T10:10:45.739-07:00Those ears stuffed with money and we're rowing...Those ears stuffed with money and we're rowing as if we had some port to head to.Mose23https://www.blogger.com/profile/01100756913131511440noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-72645711176564005552013-06-16T10:59:15.142-07:002013-06-16T10:59:15.142-07:00"Generations have trod, have trod, have trod
..."Generations have trod, have trod, have trod<br />And all is seared with trade, bleared, smeared with toil,<br />And wears man's smudge & shares man's smell, the soil<br />Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod..." <br />(I'm just now learning this poem, Tom, by heart, having known few in my life up to now (73) and deciding to learn the great ones, and suddenly see these photos and video, of my own birthplace, Oakland, but a very different one in the 1940s and 50s perhaps, or not, and with its own rusted and busted exoticisms... all blessings on thee, DanielDaniel Abdal-Hayy Moorehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04866700467301416342noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-63655049506033619272013-06-16T10:14:25.918-07:002013-06-16T10:14:25.918-07:00The subtle, nearly hidden, graffiti'd "Th...The subtle, nearly hidden, graffiti'd "Thanks for being here" is appropriate when in the midst of decay, the body's remembrance of life, or some semblance of it.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-65414086091519732962013-06-16T07:19:02.449-07:002013-06-16T07:19:02.449-07:00Rock solid, steady-as-she-goes, the idylls of a go...Rock solid, steady-as-she-goes, the idylls of a gone world: then boom, a death threat scrawled on your foreclosed house. “It is thought to be controlled chaos . . .” And it bears resemblance to the crisis management so beloved of smallish minds in high places, yanking on the levers of history, manufacturing a landscape for Locos Only. Thanks Tom. You are indeed on a roll. I take this one “real personal.” Keep on rollin’.Hazenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13417573435195561519noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-69449613394494534152013-06-16T06:23:06.176-07:002013-06-16T06:23:06.176-07:00View of West Oakland from Daly City-bound BART tra...<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21274934@N00/2896989600/in/photolist-5pZQ5y-ejLCHw-7uvv73-4c1Srq-ifqDa-51MQBN-9Zh5f-bxnYgc-841jxq-8yGBHc-g9D1a-5vzJ8d-tWA6h-8Y4FuB-FSQJU-E5AgG-azbpH6-epk399-epk6dC-9bHtoE-5unE5T-aze4tA-aaGwGh-8BdDW8-azbqng-azbq6c-aze4b5-87tD3H-aANBw5-6uQHDH-772YDj-azbqhg-azbqjx-7jVhhj-6jD7s-2dZuKB-4D7P9s-cgJDq-cgJCy-CnSdt-aBAFqG-azbpoz-hSqB5-ch3EK-cgJDX-aze4NL-aze4Lo-azbpqK-azbpZn-azbpwT-aEDZPk" rel="nofollow">View of West Oakland from Daly City-bound BART train, between Oakland West Station and the Trans-Bay tube: 64-second video clip by Dave Glass (Dizzy Atmosphere), 28 September 2008</a>TChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05915822857461178942noreply@blogger.com