For reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6kVY3EWg8fI
Darkness
April 15, 2022 by at 3:00 am
From the Dominican Office of Tenebrae (‘Darkness’) for Good Friday, A.D. 2009, at Blackfriars, Oxford.
The text for this portion of the service is the Benedictus, or Canticle of Zechariah. Though this canticle, comprising Luke 1:68-79, is part of the Church’s morning prayer every day of the year (at the hour of Lauds), it has a special resonance on these days.
Because of the compassionate kindness of our God,
the dawn from on high shall break upon us
To shine on those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death,
to guide our feet in the way of peace.
Korrektiv’s poet-trumpeter Chris Cook goes viral on TikTok for his covers of popular songs
January 26, 2021 by at 10:48 am
Just give me one thing that I can hold onto
April 8, 2020 by at 4:03 pm
From Fiona Whelan Prine…
Our beloved John died yesterday evening at Vanderbilt Medical Center in Nashville TN. We have no words to describe the grief our family is experiencing at this time. John was the love of my life and adored by our sons Jody, Jack and Tommy, daughter in law Fanny, and by our grandchildren.
John contracted Covid-19 and in spite of the incredible skill and care of his medical team at Vanderbilt he could not overcome the damage this virus inflicted on his body.
I sat with John – who was deeply sedated- in the hours before he passed and will be forever grateful for that opportunity. My dearest wish is that people of all ages take this virus seriously and follow guidelines set by the CDC. We send our condolences and love to the thousands of other American families who are grieving the loss of loved ones at this time – and to so many other families across the world.
Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for the outpouring of love we have received from family, friends, and fans all over the world. John will be so missed but he will continue to comfort us with his words and music and the gifts of kindness, humor and love he left for all of us to share.
In lieu of flowers or gifts at this time we would ask that a donation be made to one of the following non profits:
thistlefarms.org
roomintheinn.org
nashvillerescuemission.org
The Secret of Phantom Lake
August 4, 2018 by at 2:06 pm
(To the tune Identikit, by Radiohead)
Our country club was one tennis court
in the middle of a marsh,
and a large, rectangular pool
doubling a small, moon-shaped lake,
whose surface was always as black
as cannonballs stacked in the sun.
The girl was saved from drowning
in the deep end under the diving boards,
as I ran back and forth along the edge,
dripping dry, nothing to assuage
my guilt choking on action
even as it tried to swallow inaction.
Anger, that dispels all phantoms
and then creates more of its own.
To have a will as clear as water
without urine and chlorine.
Next morning, steam rose from the lake,
—pieces of a ragdoll mankind,
that we can create, that we can create—
as witnessed by reeds and cattails.
Dreams
January 16, 2018 by at 12:21 pm
It is, of course, common internet knowledge that bitches love mixtapes.
But dudes like mixtapes too. I know, because The Wife made one for me early on in the whole “she loves me/she loves me not” stage of things. Side A was titled “From love’s first fever…”; Side B, “…to her flame.” (A nice tweak on Dylan Thomas.) First song on Side B was “Dreams” by The Cranberries. (This was before it got used in every film trailer ever.) It was enough to give a young swain hope that he was not a swain in vain.
Anyway, it’s part of our history, and I was sad to hear of lead singer Dolores O’Riordan’s death.
Does Anything Rhyme with “Nobel”?
June 6, 2017 by at 9:19 am
Happy Feast of Saint Rita
May 22, 2017 by at 10:50 am
Here’s a little bit from the oratorio I helped with, performed last year in Dallas.
CHORUS
Good Friday. Day of evil deeds
The lamb is slaughtered, pierced and hung
The heavenly choir stills its tongue
And weeps as the Almighty bleeds
Now love reveals its awful cost
And silence meets the anguished cry
I am abandoned, Father, why?
Now God is hid, now man is lost
TOMAS
I woke last night to nothing
No light or sound had stirred me
Nor lover’s touch, I was alone
Nothing woke me, as I said
And nothing found me when I woke
Nothing waited for my waking
Just as nothing waits upon my dying
But death – now death is something
The only certain thing in life
And only pain can hope to match
Its claim of universal reach
Do I sound glib? It’s how I cope
For nothing fills the hole that God has left.
And what is to be done? Why, nothing.
Redound thee unto mine own personage…
March 14, 2017 by at 9:09 am
Omicron for Christmas
We’re dreaming tonight of a place we love
Even more than we usually do
And although we know it’s a long road back
We promise you
We’ll be home for Christmas
If we pass the test
Travel bans and Omicron
Have made us feel less blest
Christmas eve will find us
Feeling Covid-19
We’ll be home for Christmas
After we quarantine
Omicron for Christmas
You can count on us
Please get your booster and wear your mask
And do not ride the bus
Christmas eve will find us
In our quarantine
We’ll be home for Christmas
When the CDC declares we’re clean