bright sky ocean blue
moments, poetry gives voice
to my soul's delight
written by cgl 5/20/2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Saturday, May 28, 2011
"The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" - Gil Scott-Heron
"The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" is a poem and song by Gil Scott-Heron. Scott-Heron first recorded it for his 1970 album Small Talk at 125th and Lenox, on which he recited the lyrics, accompanied by congas and bongo drums. A re-recorded version, with a full band, was the B-side to Scott-Heron's first single, "Home Is Where the Hatred Is", from his album Pieces of a Man (1971). It was also included on his compilation album, The Revolution Will Not Be Televised (1974). All these releases were issued on the Flying Dutchman Productions record label. In 2010, the New Statesman listed it as one of the “Top 20 Political Songs”.
The Revolution Will Not Be Televised
You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip,
Skip out for beer during commercials,
Because the revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox
In 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon
blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John
Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat
hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by the
Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie
Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.
The revolution will not make you look five pounds
thinner, because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.
There will be no pictures of you and Willie May
pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,
or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
or report from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being
run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy
Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and
Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.
Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville
Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and
women will not care if Dick finally gets down with
Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people
will be in the street looking for a brighter day.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no highlights on the eleven o'clock
news and no pictures of hairy armed women
liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,
Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom
Jones, Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink, or the Rare Earth.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be right back after a message
bbout a white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in your
bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl.
The revolution will not go better with Coke.
The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath.
The revolution will put you in the driver's seat.
The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised,
will not be televised, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.
Gil Scott-Heron passed away in Manhattan yesterday, May 27 at the age of 62.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Constant
With all that can change in the moments of the days
There is this one thing that will never sway
An adoration so sincere
It makes me grin from ear to ear
Your mouth like honey oh so sweet
Warms my body down to my feet
My passion for you now an unquenchable fire
'Cause Baby you are all my heart desires
written by cgl march 28 2011
There is this one thing that will never sway
An adoration so sincere
It makes me grin from ear to ear
Your mouth like honey oh so sweet
Warms my body down to my feet
My passion for you now an unquenchable fire
'Cause Baby you are all my heart desires
written by cgl march 28 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
The White House Celebrates American Poetry
The President and First Lady welcomed accomplished poets, musicians, artists and students from across the country to the White House yesterday for a celebration of American poetry and prose. Mrs. Obama kicked off the White House Music Series in 2009 with a Jazz Studio, and has since hosted events to promote music and arts education through the celebration of Country, Classical, Motown, a Fiesta Latina, a salute to Broadway, Music of the Civil Rights Movement and a dance tribute to Judith Jamison.
Yesterday afternoon, Mrs. Obama hosted a workshop for students from California to New York. Designed to educate and inspire talented young people, students will work with the evening’s performers. They also heard from the First Lady and Melody Barnes, the Director of Domestic Policy Council, who highlighedt a new study on the importance of arts education. See yesterday's live event which was posted on www.whitehouse.gov at 2:25 PM EDT. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVIOKLXK9uYRead the original white house blog post here:http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2011/05/11/celebration-american-poetry-white-house
Obama hails White House poetry night with prose | Top of the Ticket | Los Angeles Times
Obama hails White House poetry night with prose | Top of the Ticket | Los Angeles Times
“When young people are involved with the arts, something
changes in their lives.”
Champions of Change: The Impact of the Arts on Learning, 1999, arts education Partnership and the President’s Committee on the arts and the Humanities
About the PCAH:
The President's Committee on the Arts and the Humanities (PCAH), founded in 1982 by Executive Order under President Reagan, advises the White House on cultural policy and collaborates with the three primary cultural agencies, the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA), the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH), and the Institute for Museum and Library Services (IMLS). PCAH also works with other federal agencies and the private sector to initiate and support projects in the arts and humanities. The First Lady serves as Honorary Chair of the Committee, which is composed of both private and public members. Private members appointed by the President include prominent artists, philanthropists, entrepreneurs, and state public officials who have a demonstrated commitment to the arts and humanities. Its federal public members include the Chairman of NEA, the Chairman of NEH, the Director of the IMLS, the Librarian of Congress, the Secretaries of the U.S. Departments of Interior, State, and Education, and the heads of other federal cultural institutions, such as the National Gallery of Art, the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, and the
Smithsonian Institution
Monday, May 9, 2011
Happy Mother's Day
In honor of Mother's Day, we want to highlight the following poem by Nikki Giovanni
Mothers by Nikki Giovanni
the last time i was home
to see my mother we kissed
exchanged pleasantries
and unpleasantries pulled a warm
comforting silence around
us and read separate books
i remember the first time
i consciously saw her
we were living in a three room
apartment on burns avenue
mommy always sat in the dark
i don't know how i knew that but she did
that night i stumbled into the kitchen
maybe because i've always been
a night person or perhaps because i had wet
the bed
she was sitting on a chair
the room was bathed in moonlight diffused through
those thousands of panes landlords who rented
to people with children were prone to put in windows
she may have been smoking but maybe not
her hair was three-quarters her height
which made me a strong believer in the samson myth
and very black
i'm sure i just hung there by the door
i remember thinking: what a beautiful lady
she was very deliberately waiting
perhaps for my father to come home
from his night job or maybe for a dream
that had promised to come by
"come here" she said "i'll teach you
a poem: i see the moon
the moon sees me
god bless the moon
and god bless me"
i taught it to my son
who recited it for her
just to say we must learn
to bear the pleasures
as we have borne the pains
Mothers by Nikki Giovanni
the last time i was home
to see my mother we kissed
exchanged pleasantries
and unpleasantries pulled a warm
comforting silence around
us and read separate books
i remember the first time
i consciously saw her
we were living in a three room
apartment on burns avenue
mommy always sat in the dark
i don't know how i knew that but she did
that night i stumbled into the kitchen
maybe because i've always been
a night person or perhaps because i had wet
the bed
she was sitting on a chair
the room was bathed in moonlight diffused through
those thousands of panes landlords who rented
to people with children were prone to put in windows
she may have been smoking but maybe not
her hair was three-quarters her height
which made me a strong believer in the samson myth
and very black
i'm sure i just hung there by the door
i remember thinking: what a beautiful lady
she was very deliberately waiting
perhaps for my father to come home
from his night job or maybe for a dream
that had promised to come by
"come here" she said "i'll teach you
a poem: i see the moon
the moon sees me
god bless the moon
and god bless me"
i taught it to my son
who recited it for her
just to say we must learn
to bear the pleasures
as we have borne the pains
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