Where the menu includes a variety of
poetry, art, music,& film
"Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life"
Pablo Picasso
And for those who like H.P. Lovecraft
Hey There Cthulhu: The Photomontage Video
ANDRE MASSON: THE MOON
Trénet - La Mer (live Olympia)
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
WILLIAM BLAKE
Tom Waits, Russian dance
Original poetry
Musings on Poetry, Art,
Music & Films
at Left Panel
Alabama Song by Kurt Weil
PICASSO
DEATHS HEAD
VISIONS OF EXPERIENCE
Nick Cave-O'Chidren
from the album Abattoir Blues and
The Lyre Of Orpheus
Edith Piaf La Vie En Rose
CORVUS CORAX- DULCISSIMA
The Tiger Lillies -Bully Boys
- SHE SAID -
by Gordon Coombes
don't go beyond your station
she said
as the train stopped -
after all these years
she said
finally you are silent -
read only comic books
she said
while watching television -
never rely on anyone
she said
as she walked away -
in the end we are alone
she said
as she hung up the phone -
- COFFEE & MUFFINS:
HAVE A MUFFIN SHE SAYS -
by Gordon Coombes
the cold rain pounds
against the window
and she says have a muffin -
the brown leaves are blown
to the ground
and she says have a muffin -
the darkness surrounds us
our island of light fading
and she says have a muffin -
the shadows of a thousand crows
pass over
and she says have a muffin -
the universe is winding down
as the sun goes NOVA
and she says have a muffin -
the love we had for each other is dying
just a convenient lie to get by
and she says have a muffin -
death squads patrol the city streets
the madmen have taken over
and she says have a muffin -
empires rise and fall
millions on the tv screen are dying
and she says have a muffin -
thousands roam the streets homeless
and she says have a muffin -
another friend fails in their ambition
as she strikes them off her guest list
and she says have a muffin -
take solace in your success
forget about the rest she says
as she bites into another hot buttered muffin -
a thousand mushroom clouds boiling
above the earth
and she says have a muffin -
missiles rain down upon us
and she says have a muffin -
planes crash into skyscrapers of steel & glass exploding
while she says have a muffin -
friends are rungs on the ladder to success
ditch any who stand in your way she said
and offered her guests coffee and muffins -
And no tea & sympathy from me
she added -
---------------------------------------
JAMES ENSOR
BANQUET OF THE STARVED
Books I like to re-read : Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac, Joyce Cary's THE HORSES MOUTH, Hemingway's A MOVEABLE FEAST,the
Bible, the Qur'an , Bhagavad Gita, Upanishads, & Tao Te Ching & The Tao Of Pooh -
Food I eat daily: curried chicken & rice
HENRI ROUSSEAU
BOHEME
And here's some of my favourite music:
Classical Music includes The Usual Suspects : Bach, Mozart, Beethoveen, Brahms , Eric Satie , Ravel, Debussy, Chopin,
Rachmaninov, Gregorian Chant, various opera & Mahler, Copland,Sibelius, Grieg ,especially violin & cello Conciertos
influenced my writing
- I will also be presenting art & music
which I find inspiring
Poetry & art should be as detailed
& moving as
a laundry list - no less
& no more & yet make one laugh
-ancient sage
YVES TANGUY: I CAME LIKE I PROMISED
ON ART & THE SOUL
Visions of Innocence
" Nature is not only all that is visible to the eye...
it also includes the inner pictures of the soul."
-Edvard Munch-
Bruce Cockburn- Lord of the Starfields
at the cafe
by fernand leger
Amazed - INTRO
by Gordon Coombes
Amazed by monks meditating
in Nepal in the Himalayas
beneath the shadow of mount Fuji
in the shadow of Cape Smokey
in the mountains of Cape Breton
hanging out over the Atlantic Ocean
as the fog rolls in
as the chilling winds of winter
blow steadily for weeks on end
& the snow drifts curve like a wave about to crash
pushing up against the walls of the Monastery -
Balancing Act
------------------------------------------
- The Blank Slate -
August 10, 2007
By gordon coombes
So there seemed little hope
'til I found an empty page
pure & virginal
upon which to write
a blank slate waiting for inspiration
for strange flights of the imagination
finding an empty canvass waiting
for invisible brush strokes shading
light & dark colors & shadows
mysterious spaces left untouched
finding the perfect stone revealing
an object of desire
hidden within
melancholy trees birds taking wing
faces of pain & joy
beauty bursting through the uncarved stone
in the eye of the humbled artificer
words forced to take shape
as the poet's dreams will allow -
---------------------------------------
No Time To Waste
October 5, 2007
by gordon coombes
- Lao Tsu -
Lao Tsu in the distance
walks across mountains
and into clouds
disappearing -
- sea of saffron -
by gordon coombes
sons of the Buddha
a sea of saffron robes
rising against
crashing waves of bullets -
- Crimson Lotus Blossoms -
by gordon coombes
My Buddhist friend
whom I call the Ancient Sage
says we are all in the middle of a storm
keep your composure
keep your seat
keep your mind focused
the lotus blossom opens
its delicate leaves
it captures moonlight
it captures a sweet breeze
it captures the shimmering crimson drops
of the sons of the Buddha -
Guillaume Apollinaire- bandaged head
wounded in WWI
Writers I enjoy reading :
Apollinaire ,Baudelaire, Hans Arp,
Elizabeth Bishop,Rainer Maria Rilke, Gunter Grass, William Blake,
Thoreau, Burns, Robert Lowell,
Allen Ginsberg ,Kerouac,
Bukowski,Dylan Thomas,
Emily dickinson ,Whitman,
Poe, Yeats,Joyce,Hemingway, Hart Crane
William Carlos Williams , Gerard Manley Hopkins ,
Vonnegut, Rumi,Neruda ,Lorca, Philip k. Dick etc.
------------------------------------------------
William S. Burroughs
against the good
by goya
Aphorisms & Haiku II:
Stonefish & Tiger-lilies
by Gordon Coombes
Free the guilty hang the innocent
Love your enemies hate your friends-
an elephant paces the floor
outside my room
knocks on the door-
Tulips sprout in the toilet bowl
paintings hang from trees
clouds drift through my head-
cars sitting idle at night
on these quiet streets
of what do they dream-
Her eyes were tiger-lilies
her face was a mirror
walking around inside her head
I discover it is a house of mirrors-
paddling through shimmering glass
canoeing across reflected blue skies
& drifting clouds-
On a sunny day there are tropical fish
swimming in the sky-
birds etched trapped in stone
dream of taking flight-
--Continued in list of poems---
YVES TANGUY: DEATH WATCHING THE FAMILY
“ When once the itch of literature comes over a man, nothing can cure it but the scratching of a pen. ”
Samuel Lover
“ Hang the bard, and cut the punster,
Fling all rhyming to the deuce,
Take a business tour through Munster,
Shoot a landlord — be of use. ”
Richard D'Alton Williams - Advice to a Young Poet
GEORGIA OKEEFE
Driving Nowhere
yerka
as the fog rolls in -
August 12, 2007
by gordon coombes
1
cars pass along the low road
more pass on the higher road
red & blue lights along the horizon
disappear in the thick atlantic fog
which swallows all remaining lights -
til the farmer arrives turning on the light
which floods out through the barn doors
releases the horses to wander around their corral
the big red horse moves towards the fence
eyes me wishing to speak to me
or just looking for a treat
or someone to stroke his head -
2
a Chinese flute is playing
such sad high fragile notes
as the fog rolls in
someone is teasing a tabla drum in the distance
as the fog rolls in from the grey atlantic
someone is strumming a sitar
as the fog rolls in
someone is playing a jig on a fiddle
as the fog rolls in
everything has its own theme music
from the fog rolling in
to the celestial bodies
rolling across the firmament -
See the rest of this poem at sidebar.
" The many great gardens of the world, of literature
and poetry, of painting and music, of religion and architecture, all make the point as clear as possible:
The soul cannot thrive in the absence of a garden.
If you don't want paradise, you are not human; and if you are not human, you don't have a soul. "
Thomas Moore
"The human soul has still greater need of the ideal
than the real . It is by the real that we exist:
it is by the ideal that we live"
VICTOR HUGO
