Better to Burn Out than to Fade Away

There are plenty of songs I love, even prefer, to hear in acoustic. Neil's "Hey Hey My My" just isn't one of them. It doesn't get much better for my money, folks. . .

The crowd's rockin in this version if I ever saw a crowd rockin. . . check for dude with the rad sunglasses around 2:30.

By the way, have you discovered pandora radio yet? You create stations based on favorite artists or songs, and the site plays other songs they think you might like that include similar musical qualities. So far only a few of the channels have gone south with the recommendations (The Mamas and the Papas, for example, because all I really wanted to hear was "California Dreamin and I ended up with way too much Paul Simon); most keep me jammin through free time in my school day. My Neil station is bringing all kinds of forgotten favorites back.


Poetry Friday (early!)

I know, I can't believe it either. Though I'm not a real rhyming poetry lover, this week it's Yeats. The first poem I love because it makes me wonder who the women are he's talking about and how each came into his life. Maybe you've already read extensive biographies of Yeats and know all about each one. For me, it's a mystery. The second, well, maybe you've read it a thousand times. Maybe you hate it. Maybe it's kind of a downer of a choice with Valentine's Day on the horizon. But for me, it's all that one line--"loved the pilgrim soul. . ."


Now must I these three praise
Three women that have wrought
What joy is in my days:
One because no thought,
Nor those unpassing cares,
No, not in these fifteen
Many-times-troubled years,
Could ever come between
Mind and delighted mind;
And one because her hand
Had strength that could unbind
What none can understand,
What none can have and thrive,
Youth's dreamy load, till she
So changed me that I live
Labouring in ecstasy.
And what of her that took
All till my youth was gone
With scarce a pitying look?
How could I praise that one?
When day begins to break
I count my good and bad,
Being wakeful for her sake,
Remembering what she had,
What eagle look still shows,
While up from my heart's root
So great a sweetness flows
I shake from head to foot.


When you are old

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.


Not Defunct

You hear that? Not defunct. I've got so many things to blog about but am so tired I can barely see straight when I get home. And now I'm sick. I'll be back to normal soon.