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Author Archives: urbansonnets
SHOUT-OUT
Oh, and because I forgot to do it in the previous post, I have to give a shout-out to my girl Beth C, who is fighting the best of fights in Montréal, QC. She’s a frequent chat companion of mine on Sunday afternoons, as we both try to put off doing… Continue reading
WRG also does more obviously “black” music sometimes!
1) Provisionally called “Third-Eye Blind” because it’s about the third eye. I wrote this after hearing Amy Winehouse “rockify” basic soul stuff, and I decided to write something in that vein for a female singer. Here’s the e-mail I sent to a frien… Continue reading
A smattering of Old Jams (All things written and recorded by WRG)
The sun and my recent jamming has reminded me of the fact that music trumps all in my heart and mind. Even the sonnets that give a title to this website have their origin in my fundamental love of rhytmic order that is marr(i)ed to lyrical languag… Continue reading
114
So from inside, she sent me on my way,to pave my path between poles of meaningand action, effort, that two-lane bywayon which I’ll amble when the sun’s shining:The night, I’ll keep free, to look at the stars, taking advantage of the clarityof visi… Continue reading
113
And it was curtains on my dreamvision -wrinkly red ones, as a matter of fact,with dusty folds that dampened the crimson,preserving my dreams with a dated tact:Needless to say, I woke up while sneezing – A petite mort as some like to call it;I live… Continue reading
112
My guide, at this point, decided to speak:”Work. Just work. Let the rest sort itself out.Set a routine, and let your forces peakwhen the world has vanished to twist and shout: Follow the rhythms in your heart and brain-the tom-tom triplets in poly… Continue reading
111
I am guided by the light of myself and of others, of course, on my blank road that I draw on earth, vanishing like shelf life: useful in time until I explode: The beauty is this: I explode always – (you can explode and exploit endlessly the effigi… Continue reading
110
Staunched, I step to the sink to wash dishes-the cups and bowls that had fueled my fire-since a life of chores is one of richeswhen not a slave to men or desire:I took the yellow sponge in my brown hand, added the soap and made a bubbly mess,and t… Continue reading
109
And I felt a quick tug fall down my nose-tasted it and realized that it was blood-and so, I applied pressure with the gauzethat my guide gave – head back against the flood:Before I realized that I was leaking, I had spilled all over my writing, de… Continue reading
Divagación
The soft contour of light lifts the sheer curtain That rests behind the closed window, begging for release; Likewise, the new moon, sits obscure beneath the clouds – Hidden from view but plenipotent in its expanse: I walked around the block a thou… Continue reading
urbansonnets 