Archive for October 2012

Rufus Montreal Oct 26- 2012-Beyond Words-

October 27, 2012



it’s 4.12 in a.m here but have been trying upload pix one hour.
I have seen and know an awful lot bout music
But Rufus’s show tonight was sans pareil-
I went bec. i was comped and hoped to hang later w/
Musicians.
BUT
The show was out of this world
3 and a half hurs of seamless magic void of egos
1600 people mesmerised in a giant old Québec church
Tho’ I wrote first part after getting back
from wine soaked get together
I’m now awake and sober and I can truly say that show was unbelievable
If James Brown were alive
He would have to cede
his moniker of
The Hardest Working Man in Show business to Rufus
This tour is coming to an end
and those of you who have seen it will know what I mean
Mother of God, that was one for the ages
-30-

campbell

Montreal in 30 odd snaps

October 25, 2012



Nothing much shaking here
Impending Darkness
Maybe Doom
One wonders if Life at The Equator
Has no highs or lows
Linda T sang a song at Pounie’s wedding called
The Dimming of the Day
I only heard it that once-
but Linda & I became Friends
Celtic Meshpuchah
Crikey !
I Believe to my Soul
The Blau Angle
is knocking at My
Heart soul door
And You ?

Semi new post- McGonagall on autumn- world’s worst poet y’know

October 7, 2012

AN AUTUMN REVERIE
by William McGonagall

Alas! Beautiful Summer now hath fled,
And the face of Nature doth seem dead,
And the leaves are withered, and falling off the trees,
By the nipping and chilling autumnal breeze.

The pleasures of the little birds are all fled,
And with the cold many of them will be found dead,
Because the leaves of the trees are scattered in the blast,
And makes the feathered creatures feel downcast.

Because there are no leaves on the trees to shield them from the storm
On a windy, and rainy, cloudy morn;
Which makes their little hearts throb with pain,
By the chilling blast and the pitiless rain.

But still they are more contented than the children of God,
As long as they can pick up a worm from the sod,
Or anything they can get to eat,
Just, for instance, a stale crust of bread or a grain of wheat.

Oh! Think of the little birds in the time of the snow,
Also of the little street waifs, that are driven to and fro,
And trembling in the cold blast, and chilled to the bone,
For the want of food and clothing, and a warm home.

Besides think of the sorrows of the wandering poor,
That are wandering in the cold blast from door to door;
And begging, for Heaven’s sake, a crust of bread,
And alas! Not knowing where to lay their head.

While the rich are well fed and covered from the cold,
While the poor are starving, both young and old;
Alas! It is the case in this boasted Christian land,
Where as the rich are told to be kind to the poor, is God’s command.

Oh! Think of the working man when he’s no work to do,
Who’s got a wife and family, perhaps four or two,
And the father searching for work, and no work can be had,
The thought, I’m sure, ’tis enough to drive the poor man mad.

Because for his wife and family he must feel,
And perhaps the thought thereof will cause him to steal
Bread for his family, that are starving at home,
While the thought thereof makes him sigh heavily and groan.

Alas! The pangs of hunger are very hard to hide,
And few people can their temper control,
Or become reconciled to their fate,
Especially when they cannot find anything to eat.

Oh! Think of the struggles of the poor to make a living,
Because the rich unto them seldom are giving;
Whereas they are told he that giveth to the poor lendeth unto the Lord,
But alas! they rather incline their money to hoard.

Then there’s the little news-vendors in the street,
Running about perhaps with bare feet;
And if the rich chance to see such creatures in the street,
In general they make a sudden retreat.

Thanksgiving in Canada-

October 5, 2012

Morris Island Autumn Long Ago

Morris Island Autumn Long Ago


Thanksgiving in Canada isn’t what it is in America but
all through and all over the Northern Hemisphere
we see the falling of the light
The dying of the day
The crops are in
And we eat apples
And Marvel at nature-
A Time of reflection
Contemplation and Such-
In My dappled choirboy youth
we sang a hymn
“We plough the fields and scatter
The good seed on the land
But it is fed and watered
By God’s almighty hand”

It’s an impossible hymn to sing
the range is multi octave
But the words,well the words
Give a sense of wonder
Nascent Hope before the looming Darkness
Of Ishmael’s November of the soul
Look at the Darkness below

Morris Island Autumn dark

Morris Island Autumn dark


There’s Plenty of Darkness ahead of us all
Till that Winter Solstice
I’ll be with anna dane janie, kyle, daniel
and janet my mother, age 88
I just wish each and every one of you who reads this
A good thanksgiving
And if yr lonesome- Get in touch
I’ll at least make you laugh
So I wrap myself in a plaid blanket
nigh on 100 years old
Oh Dear Friends
I have no siblings
But we have each other
That’s good enough for me
yr old friend
Campbell

October 5 1972- A bit Premature But that fits

October 4, 2012

Around the corner from this school

Around the corner from this school


Well Dear Friends, tomorrow shall mark the 40th anniversary of me losing my virginity.
I hope we all observe 10 seconds of reflection , which is twice as long as it took.
I want to send thanks to Sheila Carey wherever she is today.
Nixon was up for re election and I was 19 years old
It was the so called sexual revolution and I was scared
so very very scared
Sheila Had been my Girlfriend I guess, in Montreal in 1969
I lost track of her and I don’t know how I got in touch with her
No internet and Long distance was prohibitive
It must have been ink pen paper (still the best way to communicate)
I write this in October in my 60th year to Heaven (Pace Dylan Thomas)
And the years have come and the years have gone
And time has flown by
But I’ll never forget Sheila’s kindness
and understanding
There have been dozens and dozens of lovers since then.
I remember few of them
But I remember Sheila Carey
In October
In Massachussets
A month of noble rot
and harvest of emblements and memrories
I also bought my first Jimmie Rodgers records at the Harvard Coop
It started me on this musical journey
That is far more important than losing my virginity
Sheila made me feel good about myself-
I figure that’s what we are here for.
Making people feel good about themselves.
It’s not Nobel maybe not even Noble
But it’s something
love as ever
Campbell