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Columns > Dan Alford - Audio Files

Published: 2003/03/25
by Dan Alford

World Peace

As always keep in touch with comments, contributions or suggestions.
Also, keep an eye open for Audio Files B&P offers on the Tape Trade Board. An offer for recent Soulive shns was made last month and a new offer will be up soon.
Thoughts: With the grim state of affairs in the world, largely due to our own war mongering, I want o skip the music reviews this month and share a poem by Pablo Neruda. Of course, music can also be a healing force, so put on some Bob Marley (10-31-73), or Sector 9, or Garaj Mahal (who have a number of songs of protest including World Peace and Weapons of Mass Destruction) and help send out some healing vibrations.
Quick Picks From the Disc Changer:
Phish, 2-21-03, Disc 1- DWD
Phish, 2-22-0, Disc 1- Piper > Groove, smooth as ice
Garaj Mahal, 8-10-02- Berkfest set, best set of the weekend
Grateful Dead, Dick’s Picks 26, Disc 2- A long time favorite; psychedelic 69 at its finest
Eric Krasno and Friends, 3-5-00, Disc 1- more on this next month
Discman: Sector 9, 2-18-03, Disc 1- Excellent quality recording. Just popped it in.
Ode to the Chair
By Pablo Neruda
One chair, alone in the jungle.
In the vines’ tight grip
a sacred tree groans.
Other vines spiral skyward,
bloodspattered creatures
howl deep within the shadows,
giant leaves drop from the green sky.
A snake shakes
the dry rattles on its tail,
a bird flashes through the foliage
like an arrow aimed at a flag
while the branches shoulder their violins.
Squatting on their flowers
pray without stirring.

Our feet sink
the black weeds
of the jungle sea,
in clouds fallen from the forest canopy,
and all I ask
for the foreigner,
for the despairing scout,
is a seat
in the sitting tree,
a throne
of unkempt velvet,
the plush of an overstuffed chair
torn up by the snaking vines-
for the man who goes on foot,
a chair
that embraces everything,
the sound
ground and supreme
of repose!

Get behind me, thirsty tigers
and swarms of bloodsucking flies-
behind me, black morass of ghostly fronds,
greasy waters,
leaves the color of rust,
deathless snakes.
Bring me a chair
in the midst of
a chair for me
and for everyone
not only
to relieve
an exhausted body
for every purpose
and for every person,
for squandered strength
and for meditation.

War is as vast as the shadowy jungle.
A single chair
the first sign

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