Saturday, March 16, 2013

Monday, March 11, 2013

Sugarman's Blog about Rodriguez

Published below today at the following link on Sugarman's website:

Entry #:4175
Entry Date: 2013-03-09 18:37:22
Name:Joy Leftow
When did you first discover Rodriguez?: The movie Searching For Sugarman
Where are you from?: Washington Heights, NYC
Visitor Comments: This music and of course Rodriguez, who created it has so much meaning for me, and I cried while listening and reading the lyrics. The point of why he wasn't famous? Think about it. The 70's were Donovan, and Dylan singing these type songs, but neither of them could turn a phrase like Rodriguez, a poet through and through. A few examples to bring my point home:

I make 16 solid half hour friendships every evening
give a medal to replace the son of Mrs. Annie Johnson
I set sail in a teardrop and escaped beneath the doorsill


Genji taught Orion
Sea-purple harmony
While Kogi hit secrets into seashells
And even the ocean laughed
beneath that celestial canopy

Rodriguez is the only one to make poetry inside his lyrics in this manner except for myself of course, and I felt he is a kindred spirit.

I was so touched by the entire story and by his lyrics, I had to reach out to touch his burning embers because love comes in all colors.

Below is another great lyric quote from Rodriguez:

"I opened the window to listen to the news but all I heard was the establishment blues"  Rodriguez from This is Not a Song, It's an Outburst: Or, The Establishment Blues.

Like myself, many people disliked Rodriguez's message because they felt his work was too sad. It took a long time, but Rodriguez has finally arrived world wide and like Rodriguez, I will find my South Africa too.

Saturday, March 09, 2013

Random Energy

At night, my life’s energy burns through my skin. I try to sleep but fitfully wake up, kicking covers off until the moisture dries, and cools me with tranquility. I toss nightly sleeplessly awakened by the pitter patter of relentless rain dripping steadily on my A.C.. The weather of my insight has changed. The days grow shorter, sun up to sun down, yet feel longer. The storms won’t abate. Although the wind is gone a steady rain remains like the leak in my heart. I’m bleeding out and can’t say when. Only it’s not blood, it’s the leaking of love and spinal fluids. I can’t hold them back. I know it’s going to rain again today.

I look out my window. In spite of the quiet the rain falls like a silent cellophane sheet blanketing my world. Consumed by tireless passion I consider my options. As though hearing my thoughts, a breeze awakens outside my window whispering to me about the loss of his mother, Rainbow Warrior. I console and entreat him, “try again once more.”  He foreswears off the grain alcohol. Thunder and moonshine light up the sky.

Growing more isolated, observing puppets in the grander scheme of events, aspiring, trying and expiring.

Out of sight out of mind.

He said, “You have bedroom eyes.”
I asked, “What does that mean?”
“They’re very sexy,” he said haltingly.
“How lame!” I exclaim, “at least you could comment on the color or say something about how the blue green color is unusual.”

Wind whispers words only I can hear so I listen to see if I fear the answer.  My thoughts and the wind have moved on. I hear a car barking down the street. The sound of the city whistles and my ears ring.

The days pass in a swirl of appointments looking out at views through strange windows.
Stringing along, smiling and singing a song;
A pawn trying to escape with no superpowers or magic cape.
The moons gone astray and my minds lost all day.
No one’s home minding the store.
I stay to finish, day after day, between four walls closed in yet so far away.