)))solstice)))

////outside beat////a mixtape////

COSMIC EQUATION

Then another tomorrow
They never told me of
Came with the abruptness of a fiery dawn
And spoke of Cosmic Equations:
The equations of sight-similarity
The equations of sound-similarity
Subtle Living Equations
Clear only to those
Who wish to be attuned
To the vibrations of the Outer Cosmic Worlds.
Subtle living equations of the outer-realms
Dear only to those
Who fervently wish the greater life

- Sun Ra

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angels and demons at play - sun ra

utopia & visions - don cherry

africanasia part II - claude delcloo

b.t. - arthur jones

legacy - andrew hill

tarik - dewey redman

the will come is now - ronnie boykins

hum-dono - joe harriott/amancio d'silva quartet

rufus 3rd - new york art quartet

lonely woman (ornette coleman) - marzette watts ensemble

humility in the light of the creator - kalaparusha maurice mcintyre

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//love//jam//for//mother//earth//

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love jam for mother earth - ryan trott

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"here is a song i recorded in my parent's basement

after graduating college - just found this and realized

it's probably the best thing i'll ever do in my life!

vocals are first take and mostly improvised." - ryan trott

{{{Charles}{Bukowski}}}

Here's one more selection from the poetry I've been reading over the last year or so: Charles Bukowski (1920-1994). At least a year ago I'd seen a documentary entitled Bukowski: Born into This. Shortly after that I picked up The Last Night of the Earth Poems. I had heard of the man. The things that are said of him are true. To say that he is outrageously rough around the edges would fall very short. Much of what he said and did and wrote hold great potential for blushes and offended feelings. However, reading poems like the bluebird, and having a sense of his backround, I find him endearing despite his many faults. For all his crass, drunken sputterings, he is a very good writer. He had a simple cleverness and made readers of more hard-livin' blue collar folk than probably any poet ever did. His poetry is direct and very prose oriented. The below poem is in fact unlike much of his stuff in that it makes use of literary devices much more liberally. Enjoy

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Gonna Find Me a Bluebird - Skeeter Davis & Porter Wagoner
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the bluebird

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.

then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?

{{{{{-}}}}}}-{{{{{{-}}}}}}-{{{{{{-}}}}}}-{{{{{{-}}}}}
{{{{{-}}}}}}-{{{{{{-}}}}}}-{{{{{{-}}}}}}-{{{{{{-}}}}}

{][}-Sam-{][}-Rivers-{][}

Been meaning to get this up for weeks now. This post is the result of unfortunate news, but please do the right thing and enjoy the content - he's worthy of it. If you don't know already, Sam Rivers died the day after Christmas at the age of 88. If you don't know who Sam Rivers is, you're not alone, but it would do you good to familiarize yourself with the man. Hopefully this post will serve as a decent introduction. I will not go into any depth here. There is just way too much area to cover, and many others who are better qualified have written great articles in the last 3 or 4 weeks since his passing for those interested. The ever rewarding destination:OUT put up an excellent post here, and you can listen to a great hour-long audio biography here. Bottom line: there's more to this guy than meets the eye. His influence on the progression and preservation of jazz music is huge and his output was diverse and original. His pioneering in the nyc loft jazz scene of the 1970's alone speaks volumes (here). Both Josh & I seem to gravitate toward multi-instrumentalists in the realm of jazz (don cherry, eric dolphy, yusef lateef, etc...) and in my humble opinion, Sam Rivers is a monster in this regard. He played soprano and tenor sax, bass clarinet, flute, harmonica and piano as well as others played less frequently. To my ears, saxophone & flute playing was where he thrived most. I have included a handful of my favorite cuts below. They contain original compositions as well as contributions made as a sideman. Session leaders took Rivers on for his traditional slash outward inventiveness. Along these lines, I have ordered the songs to move from a some what traditional tone into a more outward direction. Notice the diversity in his playing. All of these songs represent Sam's original voice. His freedom was boundless. By the way, did I mention that this guy was known as a gentle spirited fellow and a one woman man. He and his wife Beatrice were married 56 years until she died in 2005, and she was his partner and greatest supporter. Classy. Dig in.
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Beatrice - Sam Rivers (from Fuchsia Swing Song - 1964)

Love Song - Anthony Williams (from Spring - 1965)

Conference of the Birds - Dave Holland Quartet (from Conference of the Birds - 1972)

Euterpe - Sam Rivers (from Contours - 1965)

Two Pieces of One: Red - Anthony Williams (from Life Time - 1964)

Paean - Sam Rivers (from Dimensions & Extensions - 1967)

Violence [Alternate Take] - Andrew Hill (from Change - 1966)
----------------------------------------------------------------

{(natural cathedral)}-{(a mixtape)}

dougie fresh here & you know that i know that it's been a long ol' time. please pay it no mind. here's to hopin' that everyone's havin' a stellar summer & that the following mixtape works your hazy, sunshine groove - may it seal the golden deal!
---------------------------------
made up name - black eagle child
dreamboat - ryan trott
when i awake - die jungen
true blue - dirty beaches
weather - velvet davenport
honeybee - emily reo
magic fiesta - mpala garoo
too blue - it is rain in my face
the wedding song - deekie
memory pools - foxes in fiction
satin skies - triptides
stockholm - wet wings
we went wild - lord huron
surface - teen daze
nothing nowhere - sad souls
broken finger blues - richard swift
if the sun stops shinin' (chubby checker) - damien jurado & richard swift
back where i began - pure x
lonely time - the brazda brothers
vision - mountainman
mind drips (neon indian) - jesse woods
bloody boat - colossal gospel
forget - mathemagic
----------------------

IF YOU WALK IN ON THE SUN

----------------------------------------------------

This isn't a Good Night for Walking - Arches

----------------------------------------------------

IF YOU WALK IN ON THE SUN

as it fertility-grasps the buried hand of earth
awakening the unbarren memory of her seeping bosom
her perpetuating loins
with the hazy shake of muffled promise –
be sure to give thanks.

and if your taut, startled flesh
comes swimming crude stroked
to the dank surface of night
and your story goes stuttering
like wounded wings
your visions all sullied dim
with slag and soot
if mourning comes as bone spurs
frosting up from earth’s dizzy body
her fractured lungs wheezing
gasping for the damp, recurring meal –
then go on
set your body faltering down
cover the beached fish muscles over
writhe the sleepless static
mumble wet the dark smoke dirge
wail the body unbroken
and once you’ve stared down
that cold horizon
viridian emerald pear tangerine
limp hands cradling at unseen waters
eyes unscaled
voice unfurled
be sure to give thanks.

...{vintage coverage}...

...here's something new...
dig these old school covers!

---------------------------------------------------
dear landlord (bob dylan) - fairpoint convention
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jealous guy (john lennon) - donny hathaway
------------------------------------------------
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wear your love like heaven (donovan) - eartha kitt
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{(-)}For Japan{(-)}Part Two{(-)}

--------------------------------------------------
Be Still My Soul - Kosuke Mine Quartet
--------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
Drizzling Rain - Masabumi Kikuchi
---------------------------------------------
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Sun In The East - Masayuki Takayanagi & New Direction For The Arts
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In the same spirit as Part One, my focus on the rich artistic contributions of Japan are intended to draw our attention toward their present needs and to cause us to ask the question, "What can I/we do?" In answer to this question, any comments or suggestions are very encouraged. Beyond this, I hope that you enjoy the content.
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I first latched on to Gary Snyder when I started getting serious about poetry - about a decade ago I guess. He's a very interesting man & much more than just a poet. He's accomplished a great deal in his 80+ years. If his work inspires you I would recommend reading up on him a bit. He lived in Japan from 1956 to 1964 I believe, studying Zen Buddhism & poetry. My original intention was to use his poetry exclusively, but after reading thru some of his translations of Kenji Miyazawa, a Japanese poet, science teacher & social activist (1896-1933), I felt compelled to use several of his poems. I'm gonna start out with one from Gary & follow up with three from Kenji:

{(-)}FOR JAPAN{(-)}PART ONE{(-)}

a few haiku from the master as well as two ode's to Japan via some fine jazz compositions (one original & one reworked). for part two i intend to flip this scenario with a poem that is an ode to Japan from a non-native followed by some excellent Japanese jazz - please look for it. lastly, if you're a person who prays, as you enjoy the contents of this post, please pray for Japan. let's encourage one another to support them in this and any other way. doug

------------------------------

Japan - Pharoah Sanders

------------------------------

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Japanese Folk Song (Kojo No Tsuki) - Thelonious Monk

--------------------------------------------------------------

{cold horizons}-{nine}

----------------------------------------------------

hum-dono - joe harriott/amancio d'silva quartet

----------------------------------------------------

{nine}

all the noises in the world
have found there way in
become the noises in your head
and you seem all smothered
you’re surrounded you say
hemmed in by all the things
of the groping void
so that everything
just dulls into an all pervasive nothing
and there you lie
lost & stuck
in a hundred different ways
retreating inward
reaching out
for the slow-motion floating refuge
of the dark womb
of God’s love
to be unalone & silenced
dreaming the nothing dream
growing into the warm bliss
of the soft tissue embrace
entranced by nothing more
than the gentle hum
of the Holy Spirit
& the muffled world to come

-------------------------------

{cold horizons}-{eight}

----------------------------------------------------

Pharoah Sanders - Upper Egypt & Lower Egypt

----------------------------------------------------

{{{eight}}}

along with the world

i watched the protestors in Tahrir Square on the television set

as they bravely huddled together like pigeons

and began to rage against their diminishing cages & coops

they looked so unlike a crowded people all mashed together there

faces as free as a migratory flock

with their unrelenting wings beating in unison

against the current of their cold horizons

i sat there in my looking silence

i watched them fly a great distance

{{{{{{{{{{{{{{-}}}}}}}}}}}}}}

^^^BLACK FOREST^^^

--------------------------------------------

black forest - mal waldron/terumasa hino

--------------------------------------------

traversing the black forest,
nevermind what's behind you…

...a high coo moon

^^^^^^^^^^^^

{cold horizons}-{seven}

{utopia & visions} - {don cherry}

{{{seven}}}

when you rise up, quietly sing the humming wordless song that lights you - strum strum for the dancing curtains of the wintry morning - for if we’re to live for all of eternity - wheels that keep turning - pulling us further & further until they’re worn into nothing but a vanishing memory of time - than we should say so

go out - walk the treeline - feel the sun - cast your shadows – mutter afresh the story and listen – for if this day you can walk as you do - flannel flag flying free in the pink edges of an orange sky that is pink edgedly orange in just this way, never to be repeated - then you should say so

and if i – today - can tow with ease this chain of glinting thoughts & sounds as they unravel from me endlessly in just this way - churning & bobbing within my dome only - here & gone as quick as they came – than i should say so

for if we are immortal as we sleep in our tangled dreams & cotton sheets - if we are fixed in the sky of God’s good pleasure - a fixture of His golden gaze - set free to shine in ceaseless stardusting reverie - if we are loved - not merely tolerated beneath a pact of unspeakable bloodshed (holy & worthy of perpetual praise) but actually & truly befriended – invited – pursued – embraced – wanted – then strum strum - ring the bells - and let us say so!

<{cold horizons}-{six}>

{six}

reaching
for the solitary cloud
of the crystal morning

--------------------------
wayfaring pilgrim - ola belle reed
--------------------------

<{cold horizons}-{five}>

<{cold horizons}-{four}>

{four} such a fond short flash the way we kept the little birds warm all thru the night - new hampshire to virginia and back - if those birds knew just half the words that gave heat to their feet i reckon we’d both be flying by now

<{cold horizons}-{a mixtape}>

{three}

at the prospect of the coming months
i rub my feet together like two sticks
i should probably strip the tree of tinsel this afternoon
toss it’s dead, dry body into the shallow snow beyond the plow drifts
maybe clear a path to the barn
but it’s likely i won’t
i can feel the weight of that tree just looking at it
can feel the labor of it in my heart
once again the cold horizon calls to me thru the curtains
as the old furnace issues another cough
the house creaking

rattling from one end to the other like a shiver in the spine
man is wood tough!
oh God how i wish i was as tough as a tree
strong & upright
i feel like a bent birch
cold & heavy like a snow bank
dark as night
there’s time yet i suppose for me to take up my tree
it would likely do me good to get out
walk the length of the road to the mailbox
let my eyes tear up with wind
take in the cutting air like a winston
sure as sundown, it would do me good
and surely i’ve got a mind to do it
but i’ve minded these things before

-------------------------------

man climbs out of the winter - cotton jones

la chaleur - bertrand belin

january 4th - wixel

raisins & almonds - yusef lateef

migration - the innocence mission

mellow my mind (neil young) - j. tillman

i'm so depressed - abner jay

ramblin' man - hank williams sr.

high time - the grateful dead

young bride - midlake

snow - real estate

things in life - dennis brown

a message from the underground bunkers - psychedelic schafferson jetplane

texas 71 - magnolia electric co.

if i ever needed someone - van morrison

mykonos - fleet foxes

look out the window so they won't see you crying - bobb bruno

solitaire - wilco

Lord, i'm in Your care - the carter family

go down, moses - padang food tigers

<{cold horizons}-{two}>

{two}
abiding in the contemplative silence of what it means for me to love within my own reach – to walk beside the fearsome death loitering in the foreground of all our unspoken queries as we sense the gaze – to live & breathe alongside those who live & breathe in that long lonesome wait for the clapping praise that never seems to come - one good word can carry a woman thru fire – can raise a man above the treeline – how seldom we are free of it – keeping silence I hear it so loud in me – silence is for the brave or maybe the ignorant - i am neither

the static – when it settles - what fortress does He hold out for me that I’ve not yet reached for - not begun to grasp – what refuge reserved – what rest?

<{Cold Horizons}>

hope some folks are up for a bit of poetry during these long winter months. i've recently been inspired to begin a series of poems to get me thru this season. i have a bad habit of gettin' the blues, especially this time of the year. once the holidays have passed, it's a long haul here in the backwoods of new hampshire. perhaps a few of you know where i'm comin' from. adding to this, i've been feeling the need to push myself into a new place with my poetry lately. getting overly analytical & critical (conscious) of what you're writing can be pretty debilitating at times. i've been rereading kerouacs "mexico city blues" collection recently, and just read his mini philosophy on writing called "essentials of spontaneous prose" (here). i've loosely tried my hand at this before and always get stuck when it comes to editing (kerouac is anti-edit) and end up frustrated. for this collection of poetry, i'm goin' for it. if i don't edit - alright. if i do edit - it's cool baby, it's cool. if editing robs my poetry of the purity of essence, than put me down as non-essential. i'm in it to have a good time while attempting to purge myself of the winter blues. hope you guys enjoy looking in on the experiment. if you haven't figured it out yet, i'll be calling the collection "cold horizons." here goes:

{ONE}

taking me by the hand
she leads on to the smooth majestic elbow strokes
meandering knees
& God knows what else
creepy wonders marvelous & alive!
& all this awe purely from the outside
but in me
the shame - oh God
of the small shallow vision that I carry