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Music Reviews: Father John Misty, Courtney Barnett, Ghost & J. Cole

I decided to try something a little different this time, so instead of a text review, I did an audio one.  Here's my take on four albums I listened to twice:

For those that prefer Soundcloud, here's the Soundcloud version:

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Things To Remember #003 & #008

With this one, we're all caught up to date with the poems.  I'll be posting one each week, or in cases like this when the poems are short, two!  I've been writing a series of poems for a long time called "Things To Remember".  Usually one to two lines and quippy in nature.  Here are two of them I felt like run the gamut from thoughtful to snarky; maybe not in extremes, but enough to touch each side. 

Thing To Remember # 003
Your twenties are horrible because you're going through the five stages of grief
Mourning the fact that you don't rule the world.

Things To Remember # 008
Two wrongs don’t make a right, but four rights get you back to where you
         started from.


The horizon so close
But a fingernail’s breadth
Struggling to attain
To claim
Something once unreachable
At dawn the ascent
The first blinding rays
Creeping to greet you
From the other side

No one before has ever dared
Shake hands with the sun
For years it stood
A monolith indomitable
An oppressive caster of shadow
Now the horizon is but a few feet tall
As you ascend its wall
Destiny is but a grip and pull distant

You reach
You haul yourself up to find
After light and triumph leave you glare-blind
That once your sight returns
A new something inside burns
When you glimpse the real horizon
For the first time
And the emptiness inside is left a choice
As are you:
Or wither.

No Free Lunch

There's always a dodge
Always a hustle
Always a way to forestall the eventual
To shirk the inevitable
Stick with me, kid.
I'm an old hat at drawing interest.

What you need to accrue is a crew
Get folks on your side
Get them believing in what you're telling
Buying into what you're selling
Perception is nine tenths of reality
Possession is nine tenths of the law
If you've got 'em, you've got 'em.

The trick is to always leave before the bill
Never make the same place twice
And you can eat forever.
You've got a lot to learn, son
And to unlearn.
If you wanna avoid the eventual, you gotta forget the conventional
Dispense with the...
What?  Those lights?
Just act like you belong.
The person they're looking for doesn't exist.
We're gonna drink our drinks, and...

You're lucky, son.
We got to you before he did.
Though, if we hadn't,
We would have.

What's the d…


Two hands working toward one goal
Constructing love in silent prayer
Wordless are the multitudes
The water baptizes; refreshes
The slick scours the iniquity away
Whether calloused or soft
Scarred or serene
One hand will always wash the other

Fatal Exception Error

We used to believe we could find the future of music in a five second drum loop
              from 1969
We used to believe the world would end whenever it was numerically
We used to believe the moon was made of green cheese
We used to believe in happy endings
In work ethic
(We used to be brought up to believe that someone would be there to kill my
              snakes for me)
It was all so clear once upon a time
Things were so much simpler "back then"
Everybody knows the good guy gets the girl and the bad guy gets a grave
It's the immutable law of the universe
The strong shall live and the weak shall die
The poor are pavement for the rich high rise
Anything we at the top do to anyone else is consequence free
Money heals all wounds
Reality is begging to be tailored to the needs of those with the power to shape
The closer we get to a custom-built life experience, the more we'll be able to
And this existenc…

Needle To The Groove

The music was beautiful
Which was why it drove her insane.
Notes wafted from the gramophone
With grace and precision,
Each keystroke sounding like the end of a glass microcosm

When pace briskened,
These tiny apocalypsi made her cover her ears and scream at the sheer magnitude.
All rational thought evaporated in this fever.

There was no post-traumatic trigger at work
No subconscious snare
No plausible reason why something so soothing
Should drive her to such a place.

She'd never even heard of Ravel's "Gaspard De La Nuit"
Yet now it was forcing her into a psychotic episode.
And all she could think of was the crystal-smashing pain it caused
And that no one would come along to bring her back to sanity.

On and on she danced the dance
Led by her partner Monsignor Lennox-Gastaut
Spasms wringing the last
Of a life otherwise livable
Unto the surface of the Earth like a sponge
To soften the dirt to ease her own burial

Wide-eyed, the silence reigns.