Sunset Shadow — Image by kenne
“And the days that I keep my gratitude
Higher than my expectations
Well, I have really good days”
— from the song “Mother Blues” by Ray Wylie Hubbard
Archive for the ‘Ray Wylie Hubbard’ Tag
Sunset Shadow 4 comments
Ah, Where Have They Gone . . . Leave a comment
Ray Wylie Hubbard — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“Ah, where have they gone, the amblers of yesterday? Where have they
gone, those loafing heroes of folk song, those vagabonds who roam from
one mill to another and bed down under the stars? Have they vanished
along with footpaths, with grasslands and clearings, with nature?”
— Milan Kundera
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Lodge Between Rainer Maria Rilke and Ray Wylie Hubbard Leave a comment
Somewhere between reading Rainer Maria Rilke and listening to Ray Wylie Hubbard’s CD, “The Grifter’s Hymnal,” the following just flowed out — as usual, no rewrite, you get what you see.
THE BODY SLOWS ME DOWN
The body slows me down,
but the blood still flows,
the soul hasn’t slowed
fostering a deep and
necessary intimacy with life.
The body slows me down,
but I count my blessing
without a 60-cycle hum,
freed from habitual
trains of thought.
The body slows me down,
but the poets still, please
with a taste of bittersweet chocolate,
burning through the words
manifested in music.
The body slows me down,
but my mind leads the
way to an enigmatic mystery,
seeking a Rilke Maria’s moment
freed by Ray Wylie’s applause.
The body slows me down,
but I keep running
from the ghosts that
keep on coming
around the bend.
The body slows me down,
but its dividing outline
is no longer there
providing a membrane
between inner and outer worlds.
The body slows me down,
but I can still hum
Polk Salad Sally,
framing cosmic image
descending from invisible heights.
The body slows me down,
but I still use my imagination
to inspire conscious thinking,
allowing “the damn fox
do what a damn fox does.”
kenne
“The days I keep my gratitude higher than my expectations, I have really good days.”
— Ray Wylie Hubbard
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It’s All About The Music; The Performance; The Story 3 comments
The days
I keep my gratitude
higher than my expectations,
I have really good days.
— from “Mother Blues” by Ray Wylie Hubbard
Ray Wylie Hubbard at the Rhythm Room, Phoenix, Arizona (October 30, 2014) — Images by kenne
I live with a women
that loves to gamble,
Me, I can take it, or leave it —
mostly leave it.
But, life is all about
give and take,
my coochy coochy, coo —
give and take.
There’s a night club in sun city
called the Rhythm Room,
home of a mean blues harp player
twenty-two years out of Chicago.
Got a Rhythm Room email —
Ray Wylie Hubbard, October 30th,
this trick and treat time
will be only a treat.
I’m gonna give my women
a deck of cards
at Wild House Pass Casino
and count my blessings.
Ordered our tickets
and off to Phoenix —
she at the helm,
I listening to iTunes radio.
She gets in gambling time
before driving down
Indian School Road —
“Look at that line at the door.”
Doors opened at seven,
house packed an hour
before D.L. Marble give us
some Sonoran Rock ‘n Roll.
Sitting behind mama Marble,
we couldn’t help but feel
kinda special on another evening
at Corritore’s Rhythm Room.
We were ready for some
down home country blues,
Lighten Hopkins style
with sprinkles of Townes and Hayes.
Here we are just north of the border,
our table just been cleaned,
must be time to order
some of that mescaline.
“I’m gonna holler and I’m gonna scream
I’m gonna get me some mescaline
She brings me roses and a place to lean
A drunken poets dream.” *
Ray walked onto the stage
to the hollering and screaming,
a love fest sing along —
loving the music, loving the story,
Loving the man —
It don’t get no better!
— kenne
Click here to watch a great full concert video done three years ago. The Rhythm Room show was pretty much the same —
“If it ain’t broke, don’t break it!”
* Hayes Carll
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Born A “Tweener”, I’m Lodge Between Rainer Maria Rilke and Ray Wylie Hubbard 4 comments
Somewhere between reading Rainer Maria Rilke and listening to Ray Wylie Hubbard’s latest CD, “The Grifter’s Hymnal,” the following just flowed out — as usual, no rewrite, you get what you see.
THE BODY SLOWS ME DOWN
The body slows me down,
but the blood still flows,
the soul hasn’t slowed
fostering a deep and
necessary intimacy with life.
The body slows me down,
but I count my blessing
without a 60-cycle hum,
freed from habitual
trains of thought.
The body slows me down,
but the poets still, please
with a taste of bittersweet chocolate,
burning through the words
manifested in music.
The body slows me down,
but my mind leads the
way to an enigmatic mystery,
seeking a Rilke Maria’s moment
freed by Ray Wylie’s applause.
The body slows me down,
but I keep running
from the ghosts that
keep on coming
around the bend.
The body slows me down,
but its dividing outline
is no longer there
providing a membrane
between inner and outer worlds.
The body slows me down,
but I can still hum
Polk Salad Sally,
framing cosmic image
descending from invisible heights.
The body slows me down,
but I still use my imagination
to inspire conscious thinking,
allowing “the damn fox
do what a damn fox does.”
kenne
“The days I keep my gratitude higher than my expectations, I have really good days.”
— Ray Wylie Hubbard
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