Whispered words of a wanton wisdom
Of Life, Of Death and sentences in between…
We say the words expected and accepted,
Words of comfort and of ease…
Does this mean the words are magic?
Do they come redolent with the powers
Of their meanings, of all their meanings?
A Simulacrum of their conscious reality?
I don’t know.
I sit on this rock and temper the stream…
Shouting words of encouragement.
Copyright Dale Beck 2018.
On being too old to keep up with the modern world,
‘You don’t have to keep up dear, you just have to keep open’ Anna madrigal in Michael Tolliver Lives by Armistead Maupin.
I am have been very fortunate. At my age, 58 in two weeks time, I should by rights, have been ghettoized in a musical dead-end. Kids from the 50’s would tell us in the 70’s that music began and ended with Elvis and blue -Suede shoes… 60’s teens were back at home with their Beatles and Stones, to riff on a line from Bowie. So, by this equation, I should be shining my fading vinyl of Slade or Bowie and telling my kids… Modern Music is rubbish. Well, there was a period of the 80’s when I felt I had lost the thread of modern music, apart from Talking Heads, Simple Minds and Cocteau Twins… I pretty much missed the 80’s. I found salvation by going to University as a mature Student. Going back to education meant I was once more exposed to the music that other people were listening to. This Took me over the hump into the early 90’s. Here again I lost the direction of music. I had to work in the ministry. No music was allowed. Then again I broke out started working in the theatre and mixed with young people again. Here, my fellow actors introduced me to REM and Nirvana. Amazing revelations. Then my children grew up. They started to listen to new metal and Indy music. So once again, I was exposed to the NEW. Each time I almost became stuck in a ghetto of the past, someone threw me down a live-line. In the late 90’s I had d.j. friends exposing me to dance music, trance and trip-hop. In 2000, I got a computer, and all music was suddenly available. Nowadays all music is available all the time. No excuses, you should never become stuck in a genre… You don’t have to keep up… Just keep open.
I just called my beloved, Len.
I name I have rarely used… It’s not that common in the modern world.
But It was the name of my Granddad. A man even my mum never met.
So it’s official. I have turned into my Nan.
I’m used to vowel aphasia ….
I speak with a vowel impediment.
My vowel movements are legendary.
But Now I have consonant constipation as well?
Luckily, my language disembowelling
Does not stretch to the written word.
So we should be safe here.
Len you never send me flowers…
I know .
I’ve got my coat.
Copyright Dale Beck 2018.
Ouroboros, where to begin and where to end,
The cycle is a circle, from our line of sight…
But, It is really a spiral, trust me on this,
We move in all dimensions, space and time.
- Is a fingernail, a scratch of light in the sky
- is a crescent, a scythe slashing across virgin black
- is a half , a pizza cutter breaking black to blue
- is a hump, latinised: for science is sorcery
- and then it is remade whole and wholesome.
The return reverses but goes in order.
So much for sequences.
Mother moon, she breeds and bleeds,
Sacred as a Goddess, primordial and primeval,
A bloated belly. A dragging sensation.
But yet this is lunacy. A scream in the night.
White light an electric fork.
Bathe me in your sweet and sacred light Lilith
Take the child I raise to your pure light.
copyright Dale Beck 2018
This is not what i wanted but it is what I have. I was trying to explore the different cultural ambiguities of the moon, which throughout time has been both pure and mad, maternal and dangerous.
I may have to come back to it when I can recast the fragments, and re-read the runes.
My love, I’m a Fool for you,
Always, and only for you,
I create pillars in the sky,
To see if I can still fly,
But you are my eternal reality.
I marvel at conjuring tricks,
Wily words of wonderous awe,
but I never waiver from the path,
I am a tinderbox for your love
And You are my eternal reality.
My love, I am a fool for you,
And only for you, always!
I am beholden by word of God,
A promise never to be broken
I am your eternal reality.
copyright Dale Beck 2018
As the mainstream charts have no relevance since 2000, and my initial choice indie charts turns out to be either grime or Adele, I’m going for a third option. My own personal selections from each years releases nearest to February 19th.
In the end that was the most satisfying list to make… Always is when its your own taste.
Hope you found this entertaining.
from sublime to the ridiculous
let me hear you say yeah!
loved the original… enough said.
Stadium Trash music
actually better than the u2 track… See how far you have fallen Bonio and Sedge?
You can begin to see why the charts stopped being relevant.
some truly awful songs in this decade, I think you will probably see why I turned my back on mainstream music in this decade.
It took 20 years, but finally got a song I’d actually choose. Just shows February is not a good month for pop songs.
These are the no.1’s in the UK for all my birthdays in the 1960’s, with the exception of Maria, which is just my personal choice from that year, for obvious reasons.
19th feb. 1962
If you want to research the birthday no.1’s of your own life I used this site:
Thanks for listening