Steal Away, Dandy (song)

Steal away dandy


A plate of cold deviled eggs looking back at me
like that old devil moon.
And I hold a beveled glass full of Beaujolais
and a runcible spoon.
    An ice cold Grüner
    In a frosted schooner
Is your potation of choice on this island Earth
where we all stand marooned.

    When the stereo blasts “O Fortuna”,
    It's a wonder you didn't leave sooner:
    Steal away, Dandy,
    Don't let those French doors hit you too hard.

At the end of the drive there's an Uber-mensch
with a smile and a lift.
As he hands you an ale and an allen wrench,
it seems a natural gift.
    Ill at ease with the notion
    Of Eternal Devotion,
With a gesture you're moving at speed to the beach
As a swallow is swift.

    Still the stereo blasts “O Fortuna”,
    Bottles empty and I should have seen sooner:
    Steal away, Dandy,
    Don't let those French doors hit you too hard.

I've heard Arnold once heard it, and Sophocles,
both long withdrawn from the world.
That sound you don’t catch catches you:
a kaleidoscope tumbling curl.
    There is one wave in seven
    Lofting hell-bent to heaven.
Washed by sea wrack and sand and you envy the grit
In the heart of the pearl

    You wonder what Life means to teach you
    When the rescue lines cannot  quite  reach you:
    Steal away, Dandy,
    Adrift a few yards too far from the shore.

(Hey now hey now:
don't dream it's Dover….)

~~~

Note: The attentive reader might well deduce that this set of verses is meant as a pastiche/homage to the lyrics of Walter Becker and Donald Fagen, aka Steely Dan. And that attentive reader would be entirely correct. With the recent passing of Walter Becker, I found myself drawn to listen to his first solo record, 11 Tracks of Whack (1994), and realizing just how much of the Steely Dan sound should properly be credited to him. I also, at some point, discovered that the first two lines of this thing had formulated in my mind. So I set to work to write a full set of lyrics "in the style", and here they are. There is a melody to all this that exists in my head, drawing from the lope of "Home at Last" with a dollop of Fleetwood Mac's "Hypnotized".  Should we ever meet, I will venture to sing it, unaccompanied, but will forebear for a price.


Tent

IMG_20170813_212937_processed


An emptied tent in an open field
On a slanting brushland
beyond the dunes
This is my heart
This is my heart

A peg wrenched loose by a skewing pole
And a wrinkled door flap
flotsamed by gusts
This is my heart
This is my heart

Dust cast off crusts and a shredded rug
Of a homely pattern
shunted aside
This is my heart
This is my heart

A bowl with a dried on smear of broth
And no table under
no spoon nearby
This is my heart
This is my heart

Look at this: spare and indelicate
An envelope fabricked
of yearning air
Enter my heart
Enter my heart

An emptied tent in an open field
Vacancy draped atop
unyielding earth
This is my heart
Enter my heart

Empty   my heart

~~~

© 2017 George M. Wallace; all rights reserved.

Photo by the blogger.


Vitriel

Vitriel

 

Removing the mirror leaves two spaces empty:
The space before, a space behind,
And yet a third: the space between
What is seen and what is there to be seen.

Behind the wall that stood behind the mirror
Another absent mirror stands implied.

Before the wall that stands disclosed
Where once a mirror tossed transverted vistas
Back to its observer in its obverse world
Essay it as you saw once in a film:
Extend a gloved hand or hesitant finger
To probe through absences of images of what was where to find a way to there
By a push and a press
At the melting emptiness
With palms and inner knuckles then a wrist
A sleeve an elbow soon enough a shoulder and
In one membranous pop perhaps yourself.

Be still as limpid sheer reflective water
Be sure as you are still as you approach
The tensing surface of that vacancy
In transit toward
Another side an other side aside
Astride a sliding shine of faceted glass
And as
Silvered glass may pass for mercury
Hermetic ceilings lower in suspense
A wingèd heel extends its healing wing
And then is flown.
Persistent vision’s memory insists
Though silvered glass might pass that you will not.

The mirror would not yield if it was there
Its emptied place yields less
The vacant wall yields least of all

~~~

© 2017 George M. Wallace; all rights reserved.

Photo by the blogger.


Lenticular

Lenticular


A lens of air and vapor held in air
shaped by air
suspended in air
Perceived from earth by way of light
through air
through albumen

through surging ions and shifting envelopes
Earth and æther
Either/Or
Auroral order overboard
A cloud

Unknowing
Wand'ring lonely
An unhoused king of importunate space
Inflowing
Faded finery
Adherent arcing tortoise carapace

Wing of swift, wing of swallow
Your shining copper shield, Achille
Nothing strikes right
In this striking light

A lens of air and vapor
held in air
Perceived from earth by way of light
through surging ions
Earth and æther
Swiftly swallowed
Albumen

A strike a stripe
a lens
all blends
Lenticular

~~~

© 2017 George M. Wallace; all rights reserved.

Photo [we know: not in fact a lenticular cloud] by the blogger.


Power and Light
[Updated! With Video!
And Exclamation Points!]

Powerandlight

The Knoxville Gay Men's Chorus will  be celebrating its 5th Anniversary with its Spring Concert on Saturday night, May 20. In amongst songs made famous by Simon and Garfunkel, Madonna, Cindy Lauper, and the Pointer Sisters, the concert will include the premiere of a new piece composed by Dave Volpe: "Power and Light". In 2014, Dave was the composer of "Nebula of Angels", which was commissioned and premiered in Walt Disney Concert Hall as part of the 35th Anniversary concert of the Los Angeles Gay Mens' Chorus.

This fool provided the text for "Nebula of Angels," and when Dave Volpe received the Knoxville commission he graciously requisitioned another pile of words, in a celebratory/anthemic vein, and it was this fool's pleasure to oblige. I have yet to hear a note of the music Dave hath wrought this time, and I will not be in Knoxville when the final product is rolled out, but here, for whatever delectation they may provide in the absence of Dave's music, are those words as I compiled and piled them.

~~~

POWER AND LIGHT
 

Out of our watery refuge

And into the unsettled air

The earth and the fire await us

In their time
 

Adrift in the wake of that secretive sea

An inner spark lights the fuse for flight

Striking a match, the heart is still grounded

Stoking our personal flame

and generating
 

Power and Light

Power and Light

The club and the fist are no match for the bliss of

Power and Light

We are sowing Power and Light

Power and Light

Power and Light

The lift and the laughter lasting hereafter

Power and Light

Warm and glowing Power and Light

Under the star-shadowed nightfall

And into each uncertain day

The labyrinth lies before us

Every time

At risk in a mist amid pitfalls and traps

Our inner spark lights the fuse for flight

Passion and voice, as beams in that darkness

Arcing like coals to the torch

and resonating
 

Power and Light

Power and Light

The leap from the shoot to the trunk to the fruit

Power and Light

We are sowing Power and Light

Power and Light

Power and Light

Exploring, divining the glory that’s shining

Power and Light

We are showing Power and Light
 

Our lives will not be silent

We will never shun the fight

For hearts and hopes and love and freedom

Standing striding echoing on

Tracing, replacing all that is gone

More than before reaching up and beyond

Renewing the world with the force of a song

Refilling the world with

Power and Light
 

Power and Light

Power and Light

The club and the fist are no match for the bliss of

Power and Light

Warm and glowing Power and Light

Power and Light

Power and Light

The lift and the laughter lasting hereafter

Power and Light

We are sowing Power and Light

~~~

© 2016-2017 George M. Wallace; all rights reserved.
Photo by the blogger.

~~~

Update - May 23, 2017:

A good soul in Knoxville has uploaded video of the premiere performance. Behold!

 


a musical box

Musical box

slow light
draping
the spiked cylinder
the gears’ teeth
the spinning vane
the torquing key and vertiginous spring
from whence this once
and once again
springs Lohengrin
or Brahms perhaps
some music anyway
some old and toothsome sound
come round
again and still again
unlocking still
and yet again
the unlocked stillness
teething sweetly
teasing out the inner ear

[jocular cochlear jiggery pokery]

tricking and trickling
out from the
tight grained
tight wound
spring loaded
shine varnished
mite box of musings

or muses
what use is
a box without

soul love
and slow light

 


indifference, like shells

Blue

O rare and clarifying day, 

    good day:

Your raiment of the moment washed in blue

Illumes a softened, sadder rumination

Among despairing men

Who watched each hair go grey.

 

Whichever course they plot they face the sun

In unimpeding drifted winter air

Lashes, squinting eyelids: unavailing

Against that ageless burst

Frigid, Promethean.

 

Out many miles from shore a sudden shower

A sodden shudder weeping on the sea

Mere meters wide

    a drenching isolation

A pure vertical rain

Repeating every hour

 

This shined and shattered shaft of splint’ring light

That draught of water from a cloudless sky

Alludes to sullen shoulders wracked with sobbing

A smudged and doubtful map

Disperses lines of flight

 

O rare and clarifying day,

    good day:

Your raiment of the moment washed in blue

Aloft a soft'ning shy manifestation

Engrained with faded care

Dispensing with dismay.

 

 

© 2017 George M. Wallace; all rights reserved.


A Figure of Speech


A figure of speech4

1

The figure standing always on the beach

Even when there is no sand

Even when there is no sea

Even then there always is the beach

An even sheen of water without water

An even shine of sand    without sand

The line and the limit    always there the line and limit

The shifting line   the long withdrawing sigh    the boring advancing roar

This far no further no no no   no further no  no further

Futile     unavailing   still and all

And always still   so still   the figure stands

 

2

The figure standing always on the beach

Does not disturb a grain of the never present sand

Does not divert or shift a wave adventuring out of the never present sea

Does not assert a space on the ever present beach

No grain is moving nothing ever moves

No wave is breaking nothing ever breaks

The shift and the sheer  always suggested the shift and sheer

This slicing light   the spark and the kindling   the dim implicit flame

More light is need need needed   kneading light

Futile    unavailing   still and all

And always still  so still   the figure stands

3

The figure standing always on the beach

Informed by light takes nothing from the sand

Refined by shadow cares not for the shimmer of the sea

Above the beach the sky   the sky is a desert sky

Above the sky the clouds   the clouds are jungle clouds

Above the clouds the light     the light like words made light

A plane like paper     spread like parchment     clothing the limit

Sprinkling glints      brazen Klimtische gold    a span of flattened wrinkles

One sees these things by hearing them   by picturing pictures of words

Futile     unavailing   still and all

And always still   so still   the figure stands

 

And an absent unseen seer evocates

The figure standing always on the beach

 

~~~
[Photo (which is unconnected to the poem) by the blogger.]

© 2017 George M. Wallace; all rights reserved.