This, this work of yours, here, is why i read you. Life is work. But if you get with the syncopation of it, you may find a bit of justice along the way. There is no grand finale, just the experience.
Wonderful musings, Bret, impossible to disagree with any of it. But I must say that the $300 Bose headphones I was gifted last Christmas have helped me discover things in the music of Cecil Taylor and Van Dyke Parks (to name only two) that I never would have heard otherwise. So there’s that.
I thought to myself yesterday that I missed your posts on FB. Reading this, and all your other writings I am glad you’re on Substack where I can read your work. This writing in particular resonates with me. It was enlightening and cemented some much needed answers. Spot on and eloquently stated. Thank you. Don’t know what made you share this, but I am glad you did. ⭐️⭐️⭐️
This, this work of yours, here, is why i read you. Life is work. But if you get with the syncopation of it, you may find a bit of justice along the way. There is no grand finale, just the experience.
My favorite writer, Ben Hecht, was once asked if he had any secrets about life. The only thing I know he said, is how to keep going.
Thank you Bret. Your favorite writer was, truly, simply, profound.
Wonderful musings, Bret, impossible to disagree with any of it. But I must say that the $300 Bose headphones I was gifted last Christmas have helped me discover things in the music of Cecil Taylor and Van Dyke Parks (to name only two) that I never would have heard otherwise. So there’s that.
It's amazing what you can hear with some good headphones.
Indeed. Levels of detail, intonation, structure and ensemble empathy and even intimacy can be mined
I thought to myself yesterday that I missed your posts on FB. Reading this, and all your other writings I am glad you’re on Substack where I can read your work. This writing in particular resonates with me. It was enlightening and cemented some much needed answers. Spot on and eloquently stated. Thank you. Don’t know what made you share this, but I am glad you did. ⭐️⭐️⭐️
Thank you Bret. This one hit me right in the gut and into the apex of where I am today.
You nailed it!
The only possible response to this is a poem I wrote twenty years ago. It's called "Prophet".
Art Rosch
Oh lord, oh lord,
what has befallen me?
That which I hoped to make straight
only becomes more twisted.
That which should be understood
only becomes more strange.
How did I come to this unexpected shore?
And what am I to make of the walking wreck of myself?
I can still think, still work,
still speak in poems
in the sleepless time of the night.
It is a mixed gift, this life, it is hard
to feel so completely lost
in complexity I don’t know how I made.
I wanted to be a radiance
but I am more like a garbage can
tipped by a raccoon in predawn hours.
I pick myself up,
I sweep my contents
into a tidy pile,
but each time I think to rest,
I am again overturned.
I speak to you, o lord,
like the wounded Jew,
like the baffled bloodied prophet,
like the broken fated sage.
I take help from any quarter,
even those with dangerous denizens.
I take comfort with the scorpion,
I sleep with diseases,
I marvel and lament
at my scattered state,
at my continued surprise that I am alive,
that I move my limbs with some dim purpose,
that I have any faculty left to cry out to you.
Oh lord, what has befallen me?
You see, I have nothing but questions.
My life could be much worse, I freely admit.
It could be much better,
I ruefully entreat.
Pieces of me have gone numb.
Whole continents of my psyche have been submerged,
drowned, forgotten.
I am the world I have made.
I am a man, dreadfully incomplete,
unwilling to meet the terror,
reluctant to behold the fire,
shrinking always from the worst case,
taking the hand of any wiser being,
like a lost child who needs to be led home.
I shall try now, lord, to snatch a bit of sleep
from the bottom of the night’s cup.
I’m glad we had this little talk.
I thank you, uncomfortably,
like one who has opened the wrong gift
at the wrong party.
Oh, is this for ME?
I’m not quite sure it fits,
I’m not sure how to use it.
I’ve broken it a little
but it still works. See?
I’ve tried, I’ve hopped on one foot,
I’ve danced insanely.
I’m still here,
waiting for your soft voice
to bring me peace.