DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE — Music Themes

___________________________
RIVER — Ibeyi Lisa-Kaindé — Naomi Diaz
3min. 46sec.

__________________________
DEEEP RIVER BLUES — Doc Watson
2min. 38sec.

__________________________
LISA OF THE LIGHT chose DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE as the Music Theme for this week
***
GON’ LAY DOWN MY BURDEN, DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE  — The Carper Family — Red Tail Ring — The Foggy Hogtown — Bluegrass Jamboree
4min.

____________________________________
The Wonderful Willow has chosen the Music Theme for next week.  It  is THE EIGHTIES!  Hmmm, it was an era, but were you even born yet?  Do you remember life before birth?  What do THE EIGHTIES! signify to you?

____________________________________
Kuwômôyush k’hpáyash — Joanne Shenandoah
Peace and Power
3min. 28 sec.

________________________________________
When I was a child, no matter how far away we traveled, my Mother would always gather us children and return to Prairie Creek to renew herself.

Prairie Creek was a deep slow-moving black water river filled with alligators and sometimes choked with invasive hyacinths, gorgeous with their purple blooms and glossy green leaves. Prairie Creek was always changing, always beautiful, much like my Mother.

Mother loved this ancient river, not to swim in, not even to trail hands in, and never to get too close to the banks.  In those days alligators particularly liked dogs and children for snacks.  Alligators, over sixty years ago, were also bigger than they are now.  Mother loved Prarie Creek, partly because the river was dangerous, with its water moccasins and gar fish and alligators, and alligator snappers (turtles), but also there were good eating fish, beautiful birds, wonderful plants and trees.

After good rains the water was clear and we could see the waving grasses and sandy bottom. During drier times the water was a deep dark red with tannic acid.  Mother took us children in the row-boat, when we were small, and would drift and fish.  Or more usually she would row up river and drift back.   She loved that it was soothing, but also that she had to stay alert.

Sometimes Mother would  go alone at night to gig frogs, particularly dangerous as alligators, and most other predators, do most of their hunting at night, too.  The next day she would fry frogs legs.  I could never eat them as they looked too much like Little People, to me.
***
RIVER DANCE — Departum — Lisa Gerrard , Marcello De Francisci
4min.

Angie Fotopoulou
__________________________________________
Perhaps Prairie Creek renewed us children as well as Mother?
CHILDREN OF THE RIVER — Secret Garden
3min. 58sec.

__________________________________________
For my Mother the times she seemed most happy were in Grandfather’s row boat on Prairie Creek or sitting by a small fire at Little Bear Lake.   These few moments, of her too short life, were when I was allowed to see her True Self.
***
BOAT ON THE RIVER — Styx
3min. 14sec.

_______________________________________
I was qualified as a Life Saver, just before I turned twelve, yet I longed not to save my own life, but to stay forever beneath the deep water where no one could find me. I wanted to sleep forever with my green eyes eternally open watching green water flow, never again closed and vulnerable; my long hair tangled with water grasses, holding me, keeping me invisible, unreachable. Safe.
OPHELIA —Kula Shaker
3min. 09sec.

“…I will lay beside the river now,
Forever and a night
Forever and a night…”
________________________________________
I was taught as a child, when we lived “Out West” that if I should become lost, to go downhill until I found water, then to keep following the current down hill. I was not told that it is possible to be lost on the RIVER as well. Nor was I told that a RIVER might be more than a RIVER.
***
LOST ON THE RIVER –The New Basement Tapes — Rhiannon Giddens — Bob Dillon, Rhiannon Giddens, Marcus Mumford
3min. 48sec.

___________________________________________
Much of the water in the world is now contaminated, not only with natural parasites and toxins, but also with human introduced chemical run-off and tailings from man-made industrial enterprises including factory farms, mining projects, radioactive waste and petro-chemicals and coal industry wastes, as well as with human bodily effluvia, medical waste, and even kitchen and household wastes of seven plus billion people.  In some monstrous cases the water has been deliberately poisoned.
***
DIRTY FILTHY SOUTH — Rising Apalachia — Leah Song — Chloe Smith — Scott McKibben Photography
3min. 43sec.

This song and video offer a lyrical analysis of our southern regions and the onslaught of environmental abuses laid onto sacred lands. The lyrics touch on the Gulf coast oil spill, Mountain top removal, and fracking, and beg the question WHY is this south is so “filthy Dirty”. This video is filmed in Lake Verett, LA, thanks to Eye of the Crow videography, and was designed in conjunction with the Gulf Restoration Network at http://www.heathygulf.org. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to learn about land restoration, and preservation.   Rising Appalachia
______________________________________
In the end, not my Mother, not her dreams, not her memories, not even her beloved sanctuary BESIDE THE RIVER survived.  Beautiful Prairie Creek is no longer pristine, it has been dammed and some areas are permanently flooded.  There are subdivisions with paved streets, street lights,  and two car garages, all THINGS Mother aspired to possess.  She achieved that aspiration, for a while, but it was as sweet as bitter ashes.
BITTER ASHES — Blood of Angels — Nox Arcana — Michelle Belanger
3min. 48 sec.

Standing here stripped of everything
I have lost my faith it’s all bitter ashes
Standing here as the waters rise
All my memories swirling down the gutter
______________________________________
TO BE WASHED IN THE RIVER IS A SYMBOLIC CLEANSING OF THE SOUL
***
“Won’t do me no good washin’ in the river …”
BARTON HOLLOW — Civil Wars — Joy Williams — John Paul White
4min. 14sec.

______________________________________
The RIVERSIDE has been built up with civilization and the rivers themselves savaged by humans, even as we humans savage ourselves.
BOAT TRIP TO NEW ORLEANS — Twelve Years A Slave (OST) — Hans Zimmer
5min. 15sec.

_______________________________________
WHAT ELSE IS HAPPENING DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE?
LISA OF THE LIGHT:  Music Theme – Down By The Riverside
JOHNNY: 
MAGICAL MADDIE:    ♪”Down by the riverside” – Music Themes  
ANTANYA OF THE FOG:
WONDERFUL WILLOW:
_______________________________________
Now I shall pass over the RIVERSIDE out into the deep RIVER and
JOURNEY AWAY  —  Whale Rider (OST) — Lisa Gerrard
3min. 35sec.

_______________________________________
.
.
_______________________________________

YOUR BLIND FEET RETURN

.

RETURN  ⓒBearspawprint2015

RETURN ⓒBearspawprint2015

We see
.
Your blind feet
.
Return
.
We are dry
.
No memory
.
We are empty
.
Fiery anguish
.
Life forbidden
.
Mother speaks
.
Words unwanted
.
Dead turtles rattle
.
Dancing bones
.
Blessed circle
.
Garbage in dirt
.
Hearts desiccated
.
Blood red dust
.
Fools shuffle hop
.
Choking sacrifice
.
Unwanted
.
My Mother
.
Is me
.
We see
.
Your blind feet
.
Return
.
.
Bear … 02.03.2015
ⓒBearspawprint
.
.

There Was No Sky

.
.
There was no sky
Above the day
Above the night
I learned to fly
.
Silent snow and mountains
All around
All around
All around
Silent snow and mountains
All around
.
Babies cry
Cougar screams
Mother dreams
.
Lemon thorns
Escape
Mother’s tight
Squeezed eyes
Sweet blossoming
Orange trees
Buried upside down
Frozen in the ground
Broken roots lash
Disguised as
Sleeping hands
Fear locks the door
.
There was no sky
Above the day
Above the night
I learned to fly
.
Silent snow and mountains
All around
All around
All around
Silent snow and mountains
All around
.
There was no sky
Above the day
Above the night
I learned to fly
.
Lemon thorns
Escape
Mother’s tight
Squeezed eyes
Sweet blossoming
Orange trees
Buried upside down
Frozen in the ground
Broken roots lash
Disguised as
Sleeping hands
Fear locks the door
.
Babies cry
Cougar screams
Mother dreams
.
There was no sky
Above the day
Above the night
I learned to fly
.
Silent snow and mountains
All around
All around
All around
Silent snow and mountains
All around
.
There was no sky
Above the day
Above the night
I learned to fly
.
.
Bear … 01.27.2015
ⓒBearspawprint2015

BRUN  —   Vedergällningen  —  Garmarna

Pater Noster, Bali Ha’i and Mother

My Mother had an exceptional opera quality contralto that she used occasionally as a young teen.  Mother sang solos, by invitation, in large Atlanta churches, during and just after WWII. She never needed microphones or other enhancement. When she sang, a cappella, the Pater Noster with Doxology, her long dark deep red hair glistening in sunlight  streaming through stained glass, even the  most   calloused, hardened veterans, and harshly bitter, destroyed elders would shiver and weep.

Mother married at sixteen. When she was nineteen I was born. Her magnificent voice was silenced, except to sublimate her longings into entertainment for her children.

Bali Ha’i, recorded the year I was born, is a song my Mother used to sing. Though she longed to travel across the oceans and visit exotic islands, she also longed for personal expression.  She never did have the opportunities or circumstances for either.  The lyrics of this beautiful song express longing for more than a particular geographic place. The Lord’s Prayer, or Pater Noster, we all know.

Bear … 12.12.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint2014

_________________________________

OUR FATHER, which art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy Name.
Thy Kingdom come.
Thy will be done in earth,
As it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive them that trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
The power, and the glory,
For ever and ever.
Amen.
PATER NOSTER, qui es in cœlis;
sanctificatur nomen tuum:
Adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua,
sicut in cœlo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie:
Et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris:
et ne nos inducas in tentationem:
sed libera nos a malo.
Quia tuum est regnum, et potestas, et Gloria,
in saecula.
Amen.
_________________________________
Pater Noster — Peteris Vasks
Latvian Radio Choir-
Sinfonietta Riga-
Sigvards Klava

________________________________
Bali Ha’i

Most people live on a lonely island,
Lost in the middle of a foggy sea.
Most people long for another island,
One where they know they will like to be.

Bali Ha’i may call you,
Any night, any day,
In your heart, you’ll hear it call you:
“Come away, Come away.”

Bali Ha’i will whisper
In the wind of the sea
“Here am I, your special island!
Come to me, come to me!”

Your own special hopes,
Your own special dreams,
Bloom on the hillside
And shine in the streams.
If you try, you’ll find me
Where the sky meets the sea.
“Here am I, your special island
Come to me, Come to me.”

Bali Ha’i,
Bali Ha’i,
Bali Ha’i!

Someday you’ll see me floating in the sunshine,
My head sticking out from a low flying cloud,
You’ll hear me call you,
Singing through the sunshine,
Sweet and clear as can be:
“Come to me, here am I, come to me.”
If you try, you will find me
Where the sky meets the sea.
“Here am I, your special island
Come to me, Come to me.”

Bali Ha’i,
Bali Ha’i,
Bali Ha’i!


Bali Ha’i — Bloody Mary solo: Juanita Hall
Columbia Masterworks Record# ML 4180 (green label) from 1949.
Composer: Richard Rodgers.
Lyricist: Oscar Hammerstein II.
__________________________________

wretched mother

.
wretched mother
mother of misery

it is because
your daughters

were your
daughters born

first and last
as daughters

you believed
cursed as yourself

did understand
that you hid

your true self
away behind shadow

personalities
acceptable for

volunteer hospital
gray ladies and

lovers and husbands
pretend men for

your pretend woman
the mundane horror

you wished to be
sympathized as

treatable simply
by twelve steps

so easy
for which you

had such contempt
that you cursed

yourself acquiring
more pain more

curses to hide that
there was no help

no cure for
the affliction

of your madness
your genius of

understanding
too easily

your suffering despair
for your desire to be

liked and wanted
and loved and

forgiven for
being born

too late to
take back

to undo your birth
cursing your own

mother’s womb
for bearing you

destroying your
mother’s life

your birth
revealing

your father’s
perversion

and your innocence
you never recognized

hidden by longing
hunkering behind

flames and smoking shadows
obscuring your outline

occluding the vision
of those around you

in a murky world of
pain and misery

your sons your
daughters grew

drinking smoke and
eating shadows

watching
chimeras dance

holding hands with
devils you married

the lullabies
you sang of your

unloved heart
knowing both that

you were the queen
of most loveable

and loved for
your illusions

and unloved
untouched

in your true self
save by tormented

captive children
while you danced

with your lovers
your jin husbands

drinking gin
cursing your self

cursing your children
cursing your nothing gods

cursing your death
cursing your salvation

wretched mother
mother of misery
.
.
Bear … 06.30.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint 2014

Symetry of Theft

.
.
Is jealousy of creation a part of  human nature?
Is it innocence to assume that all flowers
Are for the plucking? Is it righteous to
Reach out and take take take take take
Calling the self both messenger and author?
.
Is it human nature to pluck the best?
To hunt through the ordered gardens and the wilderness
Gathering the prettiest and the most significant,
Plucking the flowers from their context
And claiming, “Now this is mine.” ?
.
Why not take all the best that you can perceive?
Why not take what moves your soul? Take take, take take .
Take what brings some comfort.  Take take take take.
Why should the intensity of your wanting
Not be justification for thieving actions?
.
If there is beauty in the wild,
Is that Wildness available for the plucking?
Are there no consequences for your taking taking
Taking taking taking taking taking.
There is always balance in nature.
.
There are always consequences.
The flattery of your wanting is insufficient.
The Universe cares not for flattery.
When beauty flows into your heart,
Does that make you the author or the audience?
.
You vandalizing thieves who have destroyed
With your careless critical trampling;
You flattering greedy plagiarizing soul cannibals;
You deceive only yourself that you are the art,
Yourself the artist and the gardener.
.
You trolling gatherers of art’s life blood,
Think that there is no price to pay. Wrong.
Restitution is always made. Balance is a contract
With the Universe, made before the birth of beauty.
Think on symmetry when you claim what is not yours …
.
Da! Da! Da!
.
.
.
Through all strata of creation balance is maintained.
Bear … 04.23.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint
.
.

UGLY

.

.

In a fit of pique,
That lasted
From her birth
Until her death,
My mother destroyed
All of the affection,
All of the care,
All of the reminders,
Of her despair, 
That she could find.
She destroyed much else.
Those few bits of herself
And her love
That survived,
Did so by being
Unknown,
And so,
Lost to her grasp.
I was not real,
Only a representation
Of failed dreams.
I was not real,
Only an unredeemable
Wasted effort.   
When I have
Occasionally
Seen the odd surviving
Image of myself,
I am amazed. 
I was not ugly
As I remember myself, 
Long ago.
As I danced
I could dance
Beauty into being.
I would generate an
Aura of Beauty
That deceived everyone.
Anyone who saw this
Dancing illusion 
Would believe that Beauty
Existed and I could
Hide my essential
Inescapable ugliness
Within that beautiful illusion.
I danced a magic spell
To mesmerize all judgment.
I did not recognize
My Self
As my own illusion.
.
.
Bear  01.01.2014
.
.
.