slow and groovy

one

Not by the sun’s arithmetic
or my own
can I make the days
go fast enough.
Yet there are those
who beg God daily
for an extra hour.
I wish for them no solitude,
no time apart from what they love,
and let them have their extra hour.



two

In becoming part of someone else
    you lose yourself
          and
that’s the very least that happens.
Lucky are the ones who gain a language
or stumble on a system not yet tried
while they’re giving up
what little independence
there is left in life.



three

What I’ve gained
from being with you
(besides a belly
and a deeper beard),
I couldn’t say –
but any need for knowing
anyone but you
    is what I’ve lost.

Caught in the Quiet: two

Mohsen namjoo - Pavane

Seasons in the Sun, by Jacques Brel and Rod McKuen, recorded December 29, 2013 10:47:18 AM

Few folks have been more popular and more dismissed than Rod McKuen. This is a song he wrote for a Frank Sinatra album, and it was later recorded by both Nina Simone and Johnny Cash. I know it won't be everyone's cup of tea, but it was fun to sing, fun to play, and a nice chance to play the clarinet. 

For what it's worth, I discovered McKuen's writing while browsing books in a Goodwill in El Paso. I appreciated the simplicity, I could hear songs on the page. It was no surprise to find out later that he was a prolific, successful songwriter.

Love's Been Good To Me (by Rod McKuen)

To You [Rod Mckuen]

Majordomus covering Neil Diamond's classic song.

Alan Capdehourat/Vocal
Toko Souza/Acoustic Guitar
Newman Rickert/ Acoustic Guitar
Cleon Bressiani/ Percussion


Girl You'll Be a Woman Soon- Majordomus

97 - Rod McKuen - Amor Amor

All i really need is you

Diamonds and Rust - Joan Baez cover

Some of us live in big white houses
some of us live in small
some of our names are written on blackboards
some are written on walls.

Some of our daddies work in factories
some of them stand in line
some of our daddies buy us marbles
some of them just buy wine.

But at night you can’t tell Sunday suits
from tattered overalls
then we’re only children
children one and all.

Some of us take our lunch in boxes
some in paper sacks
some of us kids join in the laughter
some hear it at our backs.

Some of our mothers sew fine linen
some can’t sew a stitch
some of our mothers dress up poorly
some of them dress up rich.

But at night you can’t tell party dresses
from hand-me-downs too small
then we’re only children
children one and all.

Some of us learn our lessons poorly
some of us learn them well
some of us find an earthly heaven
some of us live in hell.

Some of us go right on a-preachin’
without making too much sense
some of us hide behind the wall
some behind a fence.

But at night you can’t tell picket fences
from bricks that tower tall
then we’re only children
children one and all.

Some of us grow up tall and handsome
some of us grow up plain
some of us own the world in ransom
some of us just our name.

Some of our people die in misery
some of them die in peace
some of our people die for nothing
but dying doesn’t cease.

And at night you can’t tell fancy coffins
from boxes in the hall
then we’re only children
children one and all
children, children, children one and all...

slow and groovy

Shelley Jacobsma